A Tale of Two Parents

Ending the year with thoughts about parenting

Sometimes in life, my brain ponders a topic and ultimately it ends up here. Admittedly, it’s been a while since this has occurred! So let’s say adios to 2023 with this post! Here we go.

Parent 1 – A Faith Crisis

Once upon a time, there was a middle class mother who was a hard worker, very family oriented, devoutly religious. Her first son died shortly after being born and was followed by the birth of two daughters and a son. They were raised in the Midwest, followed their mother’s religion, and grew up in what many would call an American dream. When her son graduated college, he joined the Navy and was based in Southern California, where he would meet his future wife. This situation was very distressing for his mother, as the woman was divorced, already had 4 children, was nearly 10 years older than her son, and did not follow the faith that the mother so loved. This did not concern her son, who had long stopped following the basic tenets of his mother’s faith despite being so entrenched in it throughout his life.

The mother was at a crossroads – so much of what she held very close to her heart, her very worldview and understanding of eternity, was being broken by her son. The fact that he no longer participated in the steps of their faith meant that his soul was in peril. The woman he had fallen in love with would lead to a marriage outside of their faith, and eventually their children that were also outside of the mother’s faith, which made his life beyond this world potentially even bleaker. Should she remind him of these facts and double down on her religious beliefs, drawing a line in the sand until her son sees the errors of his ways and gets right with God? Should she remind him in every interaction that she fears he will be closed out of heaven (aka, go to hell) and now she has the added burden of the same fate for his offspring? Should she refuse to meet his wife and their future children because of what she views as his poor decisions? 

Ultimately, this mother chose love. While it is uncertain if she every became close with her daughter in law, she never held back her love for her son, reminded him of the religion of his youth, nor did she ever make her grandchildren feel less than. In fact, she welcomed her daughter in law’s four children into her heart and referred to them as her grandchildren. She was extremely close to her granddaughter, who would attend church with her but never became a member of the religion the mother loved so much. She never hinted to her son or grandchildren that they were going to hell, that she was disappointed in them, or otherwise limited their relationship around any of this. In fact, her granddaughter would often feel that her grandmother held her in the highest esteem on the earth. To this day, over 20 years after the mother’s/grandmother’s death, her granddaughter is impacted by the love and relationship that existed.

Parent 2 – A Faith Crisis

Once upon a time, there was a middle class father who was a hard worker, very family oriented, who became devoutly religious in his golden years after having spent most of his adult life not attending any sort of church services. He married young, had four step children, and was blessed to add two bio children; a daughter and a son. He had been raised in a devout household with loving parents, but forged his own life after leaving home at 18. He was a loving father, made time to bond with and lead his children, showed compassion for people such as homeless veterans, and was very generous with his love.

Many years down the road, the father was at a crossroads – he had since divorced and remarried and had became very involved in a different religion than what he was raised in. His adult daughter had divorced her husband, had married a woman, had adopted children……so much of what he now held very close to his heart, his very worldview and understanding of eternity, was being broken by her daughter. The fact that she was in this same-sex relationship meant that her soul was in peril based on his faith. Should he remind her of these facts and double down on his religious beliefs, drawing a line in the sand until his daughter sees the errors of her ways and gets right with God? Should he remind her in every interaction that he fears she will be closed out of heaven (aka, go to hell)? Should he refuse to meet her wife and their adopted children because of what he views as her poor decisions? 

Ultimately, this father chose religion. For 17 years he refused to meet the children that his daughter adopted when they were 5 and 3. For 17 years he refused to interact with her wife, despite having no problem with her before he confirmed their true relationship. For years when they’d interact on the phone or in person, he would point out that he was praying for his daughter or share that he was worried about her soul. Ultimately, he accused his daughter of being indoctrinated because she claimed to be a member of his religion, which he felt was impossible due to her sexuality and insisted she was wrong. When his daughter’s adult children defended her via text, he accused his daughter of sending them under her children’s names. When his daughter begged him to just be her dad, to just let her be his daughter, and not discuss this topic with her, he refused.  And now because his daughter could no longer emotionally or spiritually handle this, they no longer interact. Nor does he have a relationship with any of his grandchildren. And, ironically, he doesn’t have any sort of relationship with his son, either – who is heterosexual and adheres to the same faith as the father.

Den of Vipers – Part 3

This is based around Mark 3:1-5 ESV

Many Christians today have built their day-to-day dealings and world view around the Bible, or so they claim. Hear me, I don’t think having a Christian or Biblical World View is wrong – I went to a Christian University because of mine – but sometimes we followers lose sight of the real goal in doing so. Too often, we create parameters or definitions of morality and then hold people around us to those standards that they might not even follow. Or we interpret “the rules” we follow in the Bible and treat them as more sacred than God, losing site of the ultimate goal in the first place.

Take the recent push for “religious freedom” laws spreading across the USA. In the name of Christianity (which the USA is not supposed to honor more than other religions), employers and businesses are being given the right to refuse services to people they define as outside their belief system. Most often, these people are homosexuals. So, in some states, a restaurant can refuse service to a gay couple or a doctor can refuse to offer medical treatment to a gay person. Why? “I do not agree with their lifestyle, the Bible says it is wrong.”

When Jesus walked the earth, the Pharisees and Scribes had PLENTY of things they called wrong as well, most of which they based on the Bible. As previously shared, eating with the “impure” was a big no no, and yet Jesus did it and chastised the leaders when they called Him out. “True” Jews followed strict rules, even when they were under the power of Rome, and were fearful of being kicked out of the faith if they failed. One such rule was honoring the Sabbath; the Pharisees already had a run in with Jesus when His disciples pulled grain to eat on the Sabbath, so they were watching for a misstep to give them authority to arrest Him. Here’s how the new situation went down:

Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there with a withered hand. And they watched Jesus, to see whether he would heal him on the Sabbath, so that they might accuse him. And he said to the man with the withered hand, “Come here.” And he said to them, “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. And he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. 

Jesus challenged the Pharisees’ interpretation of the Law because it lacked love and compassion. It made rules more important than people, just like I believe the new “morality laws” under the banner of “religious freedom” do today. The rules the Pharisees insisted on and people today insist on not only are not founded upon love, they do not incorporate the law of love that Paul wrote so much about. Jesus instead did what was good and kind and loving: he met that man’s need in love and healed him – even on the Sabbath. And I believe Jesus would provide food service to a gay couple and medical service to a gay man.

I pray that we, especially those in this country that are Christians, stop manifesting this problem today. May we stop struggling with letting rules be more important than loving people. May we definitely strive to be good and do what is right, but not forget the bottom line of LOVE.

Happy Birthday, Mom

June 17, 2016  would have been my mom’s 81st birthday – 1 month and 1 day after she flew to heaven.  I miss her, but I am so glad my memories are with me and I carry her in my heart. I DO hear her voice sometimes say to me “I still think you’re the best” when I mess up or whatever. I also know she definitely loved me even when I hid the “true Gina” so many years ago, and continued to love me when I began my journey of authenticity.  I love you Mom, and I know someday I will see you again! Thanks for loving ME, all of me. Enjoy your day celebrating in Paradise.

Loyalty

I have been in my “reconstruction” place as I navigate so many emotions and changes and memories, and what nots.  As I’ve slowly come back to “the swing of things”, I have noticed that life and struggles and emotions of others have continued without me.  I don’t mean that in “they went on without me”, I mean it in the sense of “wow, some hard stuff has been going on with people I love.”  So today, I’d like to ruminate on one of those issues.

Everyone wants and perhaps even expects loyalty from those who are in their lives.  Family, friends, even co-workers; the expectation is that they will have your back.  I know in my own walk I try to be loyal, but I am sure there are times when my definition of loyalty has not aligned with the definition of someone else.  But, I think we can all agree that there is a tacit understanding that you should be able to trust, at a certain level, people that exist in your daily life.  That expectation is much bigger for those closest to us, especially the one we love and plan to spend the rest of our life with.  And, I guess that is the basis of this post.

Being LGBT, Deana and I often deal with people who do not accept our relationship – I’ve written about this topic a few times on this blog.  There are several classes of people in this area; those that support us to our faces, but cannot be “out” to allow others to see their support, those who are very direct with their opinions but still hang with us in group settings, those who were direct with their opinions and have chosen to not be our friends, and those who are direct with their opinions and refuse to accept or allow themselves to be around the one we love.  It is the last group I will address today – this group is especially tricky when it involves family.

I have a small but powerful number of older people in my family who do not accept my marriage to Deana.  To cut to the chase, they love me and have sort of accepted the fact I am a lesbian, but they refuse to accept Deana and in fact will not accept her in their homes.  If there is a family gathering and they can control the guest list, she would not be invited.  If there is a family gathering and they cannot control the guest list, they will either not attend if Deana is there or avoid her like the plague.  For my part, this is a tough situation, because I LOVE these family members and I want to be able to fellowship with them, I want to interact with them, and I want to be loved by them.  AND I want them to love Deana.  It is TOUGH and anyone in this sort of situation I have huge sympathy for because it isn’t pleasant.

But here is the deal – I have chosen Deana.  I love her with all my heart.  I have pledged my life to her, in sickness and in health, and we have married each other (aka “become one”). She is so important to me, I have been legally and spiritually linked to her.  I esteem her so much that I live with her, I dream with her, I plan with her, and I will grow old with her.  She is my WIFE.  The Bible says that we leave our parents and cleave to the one we marry.  And I will add, whether or not you agree with same-sex marriage or accept the spiritual or even the legal link involved, I have raised Deana to a level that in all acceptable circles (especially if this was a heterosexual relationship), she is the #1 person in my life.  NUMBER ONE!

So, if I am in a situation where I am invited to a family gathering and Deana is not invited, that is an affront not only to Deana, but to ME!  We have become ONE, and yet a piece of me has been relegated to not even be esteemed enough to be invited, no matter what pretense is offered as a reason for the exclusion.  Because of that, I do not entertain the idea of going without her, because doing so adds credence to the fact that our relationship is somehow shameful.  That are relationship is deficient.  That our relationship is inferior.  And that is not fair.  Further, I love Deana so much that I would NEVER, EVER choose ANYONE over Deana, because my loyalty is to her first.  I have been invited to Christmas gatherings that I have not attended because Deana was not invited.  And believe me, that was hard, it was painful, but it was right.  Because, Deana is my family, and to leave her behind would be leaving a piece of me behind and it would be a dagger to her heart.  I would be just as guilty as my family that have overtly rejected her if I went along and played in that game.  I would reject her as well by going.

That’s not to say that visiting said family is wrong.  I love my family and I also respect their choices.  Deana understands that too and gives me room to have them in my life, and understands the importance of their place in my life and the need to interact with them.  I absolutely enjoy spending time with them, loving on them, and being with them.  But, unfortunately, there is a true line that has been drawn that I will not cross, and clearly articulated to my family members that if they do not include my wife (a piece of me) to family gatherings, I will not attend.  I absolutely respect their stance, but there is cost to them if they keep it.  Because, as much as I want to be loyal to my family, being loyal to my wife trumps that.  And I believe it should be that way.

There is a piece of me that resents this is even an issue, because 100% of the exclusion stances are related to our sexuality.  I resent that other people can be jerks and treat said family horribly, but they are welcome because they are straight.  But even in admitting that, I will always stick to being loyal to my wife first.  I pray for others who find themselves in this situation, and I truly pray that they make the right decision when dealing with it.  I have seen too many relationships torn apart because loyalty gets sideways.  And I understand the pain and struggle when you’re caught in the middle.  But try to remember, LOVE should not make you choose.  But if you have to choose, choose the one you will grow old with.  At least, that’s the way I have chosen to lead my life.  And know this, I also believe that SOMEDAY, through the Grace of God, there will be restoration to this situation.  Maybe I will write more on that later!  🙂

Ode to my Mother

As you already know, my mother passes away on May 16th.  That transition brought her out of suffering and into the arms of Jesus – I believe that with all my heart.  And yet, I find that this process on MY side of the peace is a bit harder.  I am way more retrospective, I am sad, and of course very thankful that I was able to say what I needed to say before she went onto Glory.

Having said that, I must share without hesitation a truth about my mom, one that I have known for over 20 years, which something I didn’t hold in such regard until recently.  She was someone with tons of flaws (aren’t we all?), but in one area she was always consistent and that was in the area of unconditional love.  She never turned away a person from her home, she never added criteria to extend love to people, and she was someone who found good in everyone.  And, she saved my life.

In my mid-twenties I came to realize that no amount of prayer was going to change the fact I was attracted to women.  By this point I had been married around 5 years and Kirstie was about 3.  I had spent agonizing hours crying out to God to heal me, to change me, and nothing had happened.  I went to seminars at my church to “build my faith”, I attended women’s conferences to become more “A woman of God”, I constantly asked for prayer coverage and I certainly laid this before the Lord in all transparency and supplication.  I even saw a special “spiritual” person who was famous for their ministry of cleansing the “sins of the fathers” so that it would not carry forward into our own lives.  And yet, I felt as though I was so steeped in some sort of sin or lacked faith or was not important enough because of some failure in my life for God to heal me.

And I wanted to die.  I honestly thought being on the earth was damaging those around me the most, especially my daughter.  I felt I was doomed to hell anyway, so what would the final straw of suicide matter?

So I ran away from my life, not sure I could go through with suicide, but determined to rid the filth that my very existence from the presence of those I loved the most.  Because, at that time all I wanted was to be love by God, be whole for Him (aka, be straight), and I knew I was failing.  So I ran from my life and somehow ended up at my mom’s house.  Without saying much, other than some story about dealing with “marital issues”, my mom knew something was hugely wrong.  And she didn’t pry.  She didn’t corner me.  She just loved me.  She made me coffee.  She cooked for me.  She sat and talked to me as she smoked her Marlboro 100’s and showed me the stray cats that ended up staying with her and her roommate.  Even as I existed with these pieces of comfort, I was not peaceful – I still struggled and determined in my mind that I had to do something drastic, and all roads lacked any sort of hope.

Then one day, I remember sitting on the curb outside her house, contemplating just walking until I could not walk one step further………and she came out and sat next to me.  She didn’t say a word, she just sat there.  She smiled, I think she even touched me.  But she didn’t speak.  And before I could realize what I was doing, I said to her “Mom, I think I am gay.  No, I don’t think it, I know it.  I am gay.”

It felt good to get it out, to say the words, because at that moment what I was looking for was to have someone outside of myself validate the fact that I was this horrible, shameful thing that needed to disappear.  I needed that one push to get me from this stagnant uncertainty of despair and get me to action.

I remember Mom not reacting.  Her fact didn’t change.  She looked at me and said, “Okay.”  I waited, I am not sure how long, and then she said, “You are Gina.  When you were just a small baby, you hated dresses with ruffles and frills.  You would cry until I changed you.  You were so different from your sister in that way, you wanted plain and functional dresses to wear.  So I dressed you differently.  You always loves playing outside and were so athletic, you still are, and you even taught yourself to ride a bike without anyone’s help.  You have always stood up for the underdog, even if the bully was twice as big as you were – remember that time that boy punched you in the mouth when you were protecting your brother? –  and you always like to sit and talk to Grandma and other people who are older than you are.  Not many young people like that.  You are a wonderful mother and a wonderful daughter and I am so proud of you.  I can understand that you might think it is bad that you’re gay, that it changes you somehow.  But I don’t think that is the case.  You are Gina.  You are my daughter.  You are so many things that are wonderful.  Nothing you can say will change any of those things.  I love you.  I will always love you.”

I remember staring out to the street, replaying those words through my head for several minutes, trying to calibrate what had just happened.  I was a bit mad at first, thinking even in my expectation of her reaction, I was way off base.  But as the words replayed over and over, I understood what my mom was trying to say.  That it was okay.  That I was okay.  That maybe I was not an abomination.  That even if I was gay, I was still something that could be loved.  That should be loved.  That there were pieces of me that brought value to the world, that not everything was measured against my sexuality.  That she wasn’t going anywhere, even after I told her the horrible truth, and that in itself made me thunderstruck.

I honestly don’t remember what I said back to her.  The days after that moment are somewhat of a blur to me.  My life was still kind of a mess and it still took me almost 10 years to tell others I was gay and 15 for me to come out and accept it truly for myself.  But in that moment, for the first time since I was about 13, I stopped hating myself.  I stopped wanting to end or damage myself.  I stopped feeling as though God hated me.  I still prayed that He would heal me, but I didn’t picture His angry face and pointed fist directed at me.  And it all started with my mom, who I knew LOVED ME, period.  I am so thankful that she gave me life, twice, and taught me in not only word but in deed how to love unconditionally.  I am sorry that it took me so long to share this memory with others, though I am glad she knew what a huge impact it has had on my life.  I love you, Mom.

lgbT

The latest hot topic regarding transgenders and bathrooms has created a lot of political and media fodder.  It is NOT my intention to discuss this topic nor debate it, but the fact remains – because of this new focus by many, new questions have been raised with me and Deana.  These have NOT been mean natured, judgmental, or within the “bathroom” realm of questioning.  Instead, people who have never really considered the “T” in LGBT have begun to seek to understand.  This is always a good thing and we welcome and applaud the idea.  However, it also opens up the need to clarify a few things – and that is the basis of this post.

First, let me get the harder part out of the way, and this is not so much because people have asked us this, but because it seems to be a prevalent correlation when the topic of LGBT comes up in general; just because someone is LGBT, does NOT mean they are a pedophile.  While I am sure there HAVE been occasions where a pedophile is gay, I believe statistically there are more straight pedophiles abusing children, based on the fact there are more heterosexuals in our population.  So pedophilia is NOT a lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgendered issue – it is a societal issue.  (See this medical research for info on that, so you know I am not just spouting my views).

Now, for more interesting questions.  We have been pleased that many of our friends have been researching transgender information and trying to understand people who identify as transgender.  I will be the first to tell you, I have walked down the same path of inquisition.  We have a few very close friends who are transgender, some we only knew as the gender they identify with, and some as they transferred to their identified gender.  In both cases, I can’t tell you honestly that I wasn’t just as confused as you may be.  I mean, just because I am a lesbian doesn’t mean I totally understand what these children of God are going through.  And that is the first question I’d like to address in detail – Deana and I are NOT Transgender; we both identify as women and we both feel attraction towards women.  Of the two of us, I am definitely more androgynous and am more drawn to things that society has deemed more “male” in nature.  I like baseball caps, sports, cargo shorts, etc.  Sometimes, the clothes I wear were made for men, but not because I want to be a MAN, but because the style fits me better.  However, the majority of my clothes were made for women.  When my kids were younger and Mother’s Day was approaching, I’d get so irritated that the mothers were given a “tea” at school while the dads got to play in a tennis match.  I am not much of a “tea” person EXCEPT when I am in England and then look out, I am totally down for finger sandwiches, crumpets, and the like.  I really don’t like to shop nor do I prefer to wear frilly clothes that flow and swish.  But really, there are MANY women, even straight women, who are similar to me.  Deana, well she fits the more feminine mold for sure, likes to wear platform shoes and long necklaces, but can play basketball with the best of them and can intimidate others with her hispanic attitude…..and that’s okay too.  But neither of us wants to be male.  I enjoy many things that society has labeled as “female”, and pretty much I have always felt female.  Neither of us have any desire to change that.  That’s NOT to say we’ve not had those theoretical conversations where we’d say “it would have been SO MUCH easier if one of us was a man”.  But that’s a different topic.

So, that leads to the “B” in LGBT, signifying bisexual.  While it is not my intent to get too graphic on this site, nor do I want to expose details that should remain private, I often get asked if I am bisexual given I was married for 16 years to a man.  I feel it would be unfair to ignore this question.  I loved my husband and never felt an aversion to being a wife to him.  My goal, when we were married, was to be straight and to be healed of my attraction to women – it was never my intention to allow my attraction to women to develop further than the secret pull that was within me.  Other posts have shared some of the struggle I went through during this period of my life, so I won’t go too deep here.  But, I want to be clear – my heterosexual marriage was not torture for me.  HOWEVER,  I was conforming to what I felt society, my church, my family, my everything was demanding I be – a heterosexual woman.  After spending my entire post-puberty life (and 16 years with my husband), I knew I was lying.  That began my present journey that ultimately lead to meeting and marrying Deana, whom I’ve been with for 13 years.  So, despite my marriage to my ex-husband, I do not identify as bisexual.  I identify as a lesbian; I am attracted to women and feel completely fulfilled within my marriage with Deana.

Now to “G”, signifying gay.  In general terms, gay is associated with homosexual males, whereas “L” is associated with homosexual females (or lesbians).  You will see I sometimes use “gay” to describe myself.  I have shared the technical definitions, though in my own life, lesbian and gay are used interchangeably.

Now to “T”, transgender.  This is someone who identifies with a gender that does not correspond to their biological gender.  And, let me start by saying……..that’s hard for me to understand.  As someone who has always felt and liked being a female, it is hard for me to truly absorb feeling differently.  (Wait…..disclaimer…..I resented that I could not go topless on a hot day when I was about 8.  My brothers were allowed to “because they were boys” and that did tick me off.  Ha.)  It seems “weird” for me to consider feeling like a man when I was born a woman.  But, in a small way, I can see aspects of it in my life.  I mean, when I was little I resonated more with my male friends, wanting to play with hot wheels and throw a football.  I NEVER wanted to play dress up, put on makeup, etc.  And I knew, without anyone telling me anything, that I was “weird” and shouldn’t probably act that way.  How much more would the pressure be if my very MIND told me day in and day out that my body was totally wrong?  What if, as I began going through puberty, the breasts that began to develop was a significant affront to the fact I felt like a man?  (Which, side note, had I been born transgender this would not have been an issue since I was Olive Oil until after I had Kirstie!  🙂 )  In any regard, I don’t understand why people are transgender, really I don’t.  I have just as many questions as you probably do.  But I do know this – those I know and love are honorable people.  They struggle and pray and cry out to God, and they are humans and have feelings.  Not one of the transgender people I know have changed their mind, thinking “Oh shoot, I am really female (or male) after all!”.  Every one of them truly wishes they were born with the correct biological bodies so they didn’t have to struggle to align what they feel inside with what shows outside.  And every one of them feel whole now that they have started or completed their transition.  And, every single one of them are Christian.  That’s not to say ALL are Christian in the transgender community, but neither are those in the heterosexual community.  And I feel compelled to share – for those of you who are Christian, Christ calls you to love EVERYONE, even your enemies……even transgender people.  And many times, you may not even realize the person you are interacting with IS transgendered!  And that is the truth.

So, all that to say, Deana and I are not experts on transgenders.  We probably have more acceptance for them than many do.  We still shop at Target, and again……I don’t really like to shop so I guess I am stepping outside of my comfort zone to “take a stand” for those who were thrown into the limelight and I am not even sure WHY they are there.  I encourage you ALL to “seek to understand”, as Mr. Covey tried to teach us with his “7 Habits of Highly Successful People”.  Sometimes, seeking is the most important part of this thing called life.

Edify

Yesterday, my wife received a “loving message” from a friend.  This message was kind in that it clearly said, “it is absolutely up to you to live the life you see fit to live”.  In essence, this person “accepted” that Deana has decided to live her life married to a woman, though the implication was that her lifestyle is a choice.  Deana, like me, knows that is not reality, but we don’t argue the point often.  But, the message didn’t end there.  The woman, “in love”, said that she would be praying for Deana as she believed Deana’s choice will ultimately lead to a premature death, which made the writer of the note very sad.

I am obviously and admittedly reacting to this interaction in a way that is not my desired M.O., though I will do my best to do it logically and calmly.  However, I think it is important to break through the barriers and be real about aspects of our lives that exist.  Deana, for her part, reacted in grace to this “friend” and sent out love in return.  I commend her.  But I am going to be super real here for a moment and share some intimate reality with you.  This message made both of us cry.  This message, for a moment, made us wonder why we try so hard to love others, who AT LEAST EVERY COUPLE OF WEEKS reach out and do nothing but condemn us (different people, randomly).  As the tears roll down our faces, we audibly wonder why we fight so hard to remain in the Christian community.  We sit and, as we cry, feel guilty for the rage that begins to stir in our guts, praying to the Lord to please, PLEASE, lead us in His path and help us not to react in the flesh.  But, even with the shame we feel for the rage that is burning slowing across our stomachs, it is way better than the pain and anguish we feel as the slime of judgment sent by others fights its way over us.  Rage is always my preference to the pain, and yet I know we are called to love.

I ask you seriously……..think hard about this………if I walked up to a smoker and said, “I love you so much and I know it’s totally up to you to smoke.  I honestly don’t have a problem with you smoking because you’re my friend.  But I am praying for you because I know it will probably mean you will die way younger than you should.”……I would probably be somewhat accurate.  At best, their quality of life could be significantly compromised as they aged.  But in doing so, was the relationship that I so obviously have (“I love you so much”) EDIFIED by the interchange?  Do you really, REALLY think that “showing love” is telling someone “you’re killing yourself” really going to make them think about what they’re doing?  Maybe.  I think the interchange builds barriers, throws shame from one friend to another, and doesn’t really change the fact that the one friend will still smoke.  Condemnation will not cause them to stop smoking.

What if it is something that is NOT really a choice?  What if I told you I haven’t had over 1200 calories a day for weeks, that I have been way more active, and I haven’t lost weight?  What if I am just glad that I haven’t GAINED weight, but you tell me I am going to die younger because of my “poor eating habits”?  What if genetics or other health issues are causing this weight issue for me?  What am I supposed to do with your “claims of love” when you take hope and throw it down the toilet with your words?  What if I am at a breaking point, frustrated from my lack of weight loss, and then you come in and put the nail in the coffin of my efforts with your words of condemnation?

I don’t want to be that kind of person.  I don’t want to DIScourage, but ENcourage.  And telling someone they’re going to hell or going to die young is not encouragement.  It is BS.

The Bible is clear that the tongue is dangerous – it can cause fires to burn, hearts to break, and unrighteousness to befall man.  Yet, the same tongue can EDIFY others.  And I contend that the “tongue” of this friend did not edify Deana.  Instead, condemnation was the only byproduct.  And, truth be known, so many follow this supposed “love” formula and I am rather sick of it.  Stop being that way.  It doesn’t do ANYTHING except maybe make yourself feel righteous or caring and that is BS too.  You don’t give a CRAP about Deana and you don’t give a CRAP about the smoker or the fat person, but you may only feel better because now “the blood is not on your hands”.  Well, it never WAS on your hands.  I’d rather you pray for us if you truly feel compelled to do so, because we have faith in Jesus Christ and we actually TRUST in Him.  But I digress.

Ephesians 4:29 ESV says:

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.

Deana was not built up by that message, but was torn down.  She said to me, “The only reason I will not leave the Christian Community** is because of you and (very close friend).  The two of you speak Christ to me, and I am so glad for it.  But today, it is harder to walk in that decision.”

I am writing this blog today for no other reason, from my heart, than to encourage you to think about how you interact with EVERYONE.  Are you building them up?  Do you REALLY believe telling someone they’re going to hell or will die young because of their life gives grace to them?  Think on these things, because I have met hundreds of people who have told me they do not go to church because of Christians telling them they are going to hell, are an abomination, or other hope-stealing comments.  That is not a cop out by some angry lesbian, that is the truth.  And my wife, who loves the Lord with all she is, doesn’t need to end her evening by crying about being told she is going to die young for being married.  FEAR doesn’t work, and if I may suggest, it does nothing for the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  We are better than that.

Thank you for reading.

** This is NOT about losing faith in Christ or rejecting Him.  This is about associating with the very RELIGION and those who walk in condemnation in the name of Christ.

Fury

Today, a dear loved one reached out to me because their parents rejected them.  This LGBT young person has been out for about a year and has struggled with their relationship with their parents the entire time.  Recently, they wrote a long and very detailed email explaining how they reconciled their sexuality with their Christian faith and how they believed the Bible does not condemn them.  This was a very personal email, very open with tons of emotions, vulnerability, and hope.  Hope that, maybe with all the details and the proof that this person has been heavily in the Word and prayer, they would come to understand how much Jesus meant to their child even though they are also gay.  Days had passed and even with the history of a year of anger, rejection, and even torment from this person’s parents, the writer held out hope and trusted; in the Lord and in their parents.

But, instead the parents responded with rejection.  Hatred, and I am not just using a buzzword because “they are standing up for their religion”.  They have condemned their child to hell and used words that I would not use on my worst enemy.  And that, in a word, made FURY rise in my heart.

Love is patient.  Love is kind.  Love does not insist on its own way.  And yet, the response from the parents, in the name of Christ, made impatient demands.  Were unkind.  Insisted that the only way their child could be saved was to adopt and walk in the exact same manner established in their own heterosexual lives.  They said there was no hope for their child, that things would never work out for them.  It was filled with doom and distain.  Disgust.  Love does not do that.

FURY.  I am consumed with it.

They do not trust in their God, for the Bible they so heavily throw about says in Romans 8 that all things work out for those who love God.  I don’t think these parents lack love for God, but if they TRUSTED Him, they’d know that they need not fear for their child who is in Christ.  Yet, I am sure they think their child is NOT in Christ, which is so frustrating as well.  This human is so evidently a Child of God in word and deed, one that sacrifices for their neighbor and loves unconditionally.  In fact, 1 John says if people don’t love, God is not in them.  So, to learn of the condition of their parents’ love brings up FURY within me.  But maybe, based on their own “strong beliefs”, their child could be saved based on the Word and promises of God.  But again, it appears they don’t trust the Word.

And yet, I must take a step back and remember……I trust in the same God.  I know this will work out for this dear one, even though right now the pain is all consuming.  Even though the rejection and the harsh words and the outright condemnation being sent to this loving person is real and painful.  And my FURY, whether based on biblical verses or not, makes me no different than the parents, who used the Bible as a sword against their own child.  I am not like them.  I don’t want to be like them.  I need to LOVE, even when it is hard.

So, I am reminding myself (and everyone else)……

1 Cor 13:4-13 ESV

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant  or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Please pray for this dear one.  Please pray that their heart is surrounded by the Love of Christ, that He removes the bleeding and pain.  Pray that the Lord fills the loss of their parents with many, many more who can assist in this role.  Pray for my FURY.  Pray for the parents, who must believe they’re doing the right thing, and have suddenly lost their child by choice.  And, also, if you think about it……..love people.  Where they are.  No conditions.

Church. The Struggle.

Tonight I read an article that I came across in my newsfeed on Facebook.  I have to admit, it seemed more angry than I personally feel towards the church, at least right now.  Yet, to be completely candid, the article DID bring up some pretty good points, and focused on many of the things I have personally gone through in my own walk as a LGBT Christian.

This article did get me thinking, so I wanted to share something with you regarding “church”.  It’s a struggle for me, and perhaps you may be surprised as to why.

To knock out the obvious, going to most churches is awkward for my family.  More often than not, we can’t just go to a church to check it out.  No, instead we have to vet it out; check out their web page, see if there are any notations about homosexuality on their “what we believe” sections, and I usually email the Pastor and straight out ask if it would be a problem if we attended.  Only about 40% of the respondents indicate “no, please don’t come” (or variations of the context, some not in a mean way though some of which are pretty aggressive about sin, though those happen only about 5% of the time).  45% struggle with what to say, hoping not to offend but still unable to respond in a positive way.  These sound more like, “wow, of course we hope you come over, though we have never had any such people in our church and we are not sure how the congregation would respond.”  Some ask if “we look gay”, wonder if they could meet with us before we attend, and that sort of thing.  10% have been affirming, and 5% have been predominantly LGBT churches.

I have to say, however, that it isn’t “easy” to go to a gay church, really.  I mean, our kids aren’t gay, you know?  And, in relation to OUR experience, more often than not when we attend the 15% gay or affirming churches, they are less conservative.  And, really, we like a more conservative, non-denominational church.  But the more conservative churches that are around are apt to not want us there.  So, can you imagine the struggle?  To sum it up, we really don’t fit into either church.

But even beyond that, what I REALLY, REALLY wish for is to just be able to go to church with my family.  Period.  I would LOVE to not even have to talk about the fact that Deana and I are LGBT.  In BOTH scenarios, we just want to worship our Lord and Savior, get into the Word, be fed and recharged with brothers and sisters in Christ, and not have this layer of “us” that truly just gets in the way.  It’s like having an extra layer of clothing on each time we go to church that makes it difficult to enter into the holy of holies.  It’s like walking with a scarlet letter on our lapels and everyone focuses on that letter instead of what we really are attending church for……and that just seems so wrong.  So, personally speaking, I avoid that.  Because it just seems like a circus to me, in both types of churches. And yet, when I do that, my very spirit suffers for it as I remove myself from fellowship.  From worship.  From what I believe I was created to do.  So I attend and work though it, but the cycle continues.

So, my heart of prayer often says, “Lord, let me be authentic, yes.  But can’t it just be about You?  Can’t we just assemble and BE?  Can’t we just kneel and sing and pray and listen and encourage and interact and follow?  Can’t it just be about learning to be more like You?”

So, in most ways I’ve tried to forgive, yes.  I don’t sit here hating evangelicals or wave my fist at those who condemn me to hell.  It hurts, I won’t lie, but I don’t despise the ones who say that so much today.  But what I miss, what my soul yearns for, is to just be able to worship.  Without asking.  Without wondering if my presence is offensive or bothering someone.  Without thinking the LGBT brothers and sisters with me are more interested in getting more churches to accept us.  Without even thinking about sexuality.  I yearn to just see the face of Jesus, to hold the hand of someone hurting as I pray with them, to laugh at a Pastor’s anecdote during a sermon, to cry with joy as I consider the vast love that God provides you and me for each moment of our lives, to be more like Him, and to do it not as an LGBT anything, but as a sister in Christ.

And, well, I am still praying.

Processing the Hurt

Deana and I laugh sometimes – we have, I don’t know, four thousand anniversaries.  No joke.  The day we “got together” (aka, professed our love), the day I asked her to marry me, the day we became domestic partners, the day we reunited after a small break, the day she asked me to marry her, the day we held a Commitment Ceremony, and the day we legally married.  Well, I wrote that but I am sure I am missing at least 10 more…..but you get the drift.  Some of these dates we absolutely celebrate, others we mention and maybe stop to hug one another, and some we sometimes miss entirely and laugh when we realize it.

Ah, but I digress…….

In November 2009, after years of being “in the closet” as a couple, we stood in front of family and friends and committed our lives to each other.  Our children were in the ceremony, Deana’s Mother and most of her siblings attended, as well as tons more family and friends.  It was an amazing day and an amazing night, it was foundational to so many aspects of our relationship just as a wedding would have been, and it warms my heart just thinking about it.  As a side note, we legally married in a courthouse in New York in December 2011 as well.  Boom!

But here is the thing – in the past, when I’d think of our Commitment Ceremony, there was always a residue because of those who were not there.  Not people who couldn’t make it due to distance, health, or other issues, no……the residue was related to those who chose not to be there.  Those who said they loved us, but didn’t believe in our lifestyle choice.  Those who said – in love and in whatever other adjective you can insert – that they believed we were walking in sin or at least outside of the will of God.  And, in all transparency, THIS residue covered everything for me.  I could look at videos or pictures, reminisce about some great times……but always this piece would touch every inch of happiness like an oil slick on the ocean.  It hurt me, and even with the super jolt of joy I would feel and when I’d consider how grand my life has been because of my wife……I would be this hurt person that always – always – ended up hurt.

Some people like being a victim, actually get energized by processing negative emotions.  I suppose I can be a drama queen, I am Italian after all, but I can’t say I am energized by it.  In fact, I prefer to find resolution, to implement peace and solutions and change and love and……..hurt messes that up.  Yet, I was the one who seemed to live there in key areas of my life, especially my very important relationship with Deana.

So, today I was reading an open letter a gay man posted online to his parents.  His parents had refused to attend his wedding three years ago.  I only read the beginning, because it was so filled with hurt and feelings of rejection that I reacted strongly to it.  I know you must imagine I resonated with it, and if you do I don’t blame you.  Actually, I stopped reading and immediately prayed that this man’s hurt be covered, washed away, so that he can feel the peace that Deana and I felt.  As I was doing that, I seriously stopped dead in my tracks (picture a cartoon character shaking their head violently as if to say “what the heck?!?!!?!”), and said out loud “What are you talking about?  PEACE???”

But it’s true, I have felt peace towards those close friends and family who overtly or nicely rejected our relationship.  And I hadn’t even realized it until today.  That’s not to say there is reconciliation; oh no, there are still some who refuse to see Deana or who will not add us to FB or send veiled “we are praying for you” notes that we are sure imply they are praying we each somehow find a good man to love and marry.  But I do mean that, more often than not, when I think of these people my heart melts with love for them.  I find reasons to extend empathy to them…..maybe they are too old to understand the whole LGBT thing, or maybe they don’t mean to reject us per se but they sincerely believe we are doing wrong, or whatever.  And, truly the shock of all shocks, I enjoy seeing them when I can and love interacting with them EVEN THOUGH they are missing out being around some pretty amazing people in my life.  As a byproduct, those who HAVE decided to be part of our life and all the many related memories of our interactions BLESS ME and no longer have the residual hurt that once was everywhere.  The old memories and new memories are free and clear and bring amazing joy to our hearts.  Today, realizing all of this, I was just amazed and needed to share with you, my 2.78 readers.

You see, Deana and I are not activists, though we realize some assume we are just because we are lesbians.  But we truly don’t live to convince anyone to believe what we believe.  Everyone wants to be accepted I suppose, or at least not rejected by the ones they love, but Deana and I don’t really have axes to grind.  However, today’s revelation made me see with my heart that all things DO work together for good for those who love God (my bad paraphrase of Romans 8:28).  And, I’m reminded that – had I or Deana gotten in the faces of those who we saw as rejecting us – I am pretty sure we would not have any relationship with them at all.  And these are people that we love and want a relationship with, not random people who leave anonymous packages of condemnation in our mailboxes.  But, most importantly, I thank the Good Lord that he has removed the hurt that I held so long towards those I love and pray that others can find this peace in their own lives.

For those in the LGBT Community who have been rejected by family and friends, please don’t lose heart.  I GET IT.  I KNOW how it feels!  “It gets better” is not just a catch phrase.  Feel free to reach out to me if you need to vent, have questions, or need to know more about how God truly loves you.  There IS a way to process the hurt, I promise.

Oh and Deana, Happy Anniversary Babe!  🙂