He'll meet you wherever you are

Last week was not an excellent one.  There was one day in particular that just got started off on the wrong foot. I was tired, grumpy and generally not feeling like I was exhibiting my best self.  I'm sure none of you are shocked by this, but I think it's important to be honest about the state I was in.  This carried on through the better part of the day and I was SO looking forward to going home as soon as I helped the last person in front of me.  My plan was to get Alaina from school and let her watch as many cartoons as she wanted while we snuggled on the couch.

I imagine that God likes to laugh a lot at the plans I make.

As I was helping her, we were talking a bit and I could tell that a heavy burden was being carried.  I listened to her telling her story and my heart broke at the same time my brain was wondering how she was managing to get up every morning.  The counter between us seemed like a ridiculously large barrier so I walked around it to stand next to her.  As she continued talking, I felt very strongly that she wasn't the only one speaking to my heart.  God's voice was right there, telling me to pray with her.

I am firmly rooted in my faith and have no trouble whatsoever expressing my beliefs.  I also have a firm grasp on the fact that not everyone believes what I believe.  The office is not a place where I feel the need to speak to people about the Romans Road or ask if their name is written in the Lambs Book of Life.  Asking a complete stranger if I could pray over her while standing in the front office was not on my list of things to do.  Ever.  But that is the thing about being called by God; He doesn't so much care if it was on your to-do list.  He knows you better than you know yourself and He is going to use you exactly where you are.

I had to dig the words deep from my gut and force them out.  But I asked her if I could pray with her and she said yes.  I have no idea what I said, but it didn't matter.  If God could use me as a vessel, He could make the words tumbling out be what she needed to hear.  I am very sure that there were some very surprised co-workers who were wondering why the lesbian girl that is sometimes a little rough around the edges was crying and praying in the front office.  One of them asked who she was...I responded honestly that I've never met her before in my life.

I am so, so imperfect.  I make mistakes and less than loving decisions often.  But I cannot, CANNOT ignore very clear convictions about something I am being called to do.  Even when they don't make sense to anyone else.  Even when they don't make sense to me.  I don't know why I was called to pray with this woman on this day, but I walked away with a renewed sense of wonder at the awesome God we serve.  We live in a world that loves to judge and tell people that aren't "good Christians" that God hates them.

THAT IS NOT TRUE.

Just like an earthly parent, God wants nothing more than to lavish you with love and joy.  He may not always think you're making the best choices, but He NEVER stops loving you.  He NEVER stops listening if you want to talk.  There is ALWAYS room in his lap to curl up and let yourself be comforted.  So wherever you are, please hear that today.  Tune out all of the noise around you from other imperfect people and listen to the voice of the One who matters.

Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord - Romans 8:38-39

Why I Believe in Pride

This coming weekend is the Pride celebration in Atlanta.  I have attended before, but this is the first year that I will be marching in the actual parade.  I am a little anxious about it just because it is a big parade and I don't want to trip and fall or otherwise embarrass myself.  I have absolutely zero reservations about the reason behind the parade.  Which is quite a long way from where I was a few years ago.

For a long time (and sometimes still on my bad days) I was terrified that someone would learn my secret.  But then I started telling people, one at a time.  The more people I told the easier it got and the happier I became.  Little by little the weight of living a lie lifted off my shoulders.  When I stopped treating it like something to be ashamed of, people stop acting like it is something to be ashamed of.  When I stop worrying about other people's reactions and just speak to the fact of it - this is the person that i am spending my life with - it gets a little easier.  Somewhere in there I realized why people want to know other people's secrets.  Because it gives them power.  It is something to hold over another person's head, a way to control them.  That is the beauty of transparency and authenticity.  It removes the weight that someone should discover your secret because there is no secret there.  There is no need for a secret because I am not ashamed of any part of who I am.

I think that there is a sort of misconception about pride.  I am not proud that I am a lesbian - the part of pride that I think there is confusion around.  I am no more proud of being a lesbian than I am of being a blonde, of being 5'6", or of having blue eyes.  They are not things I chose to be, nor is this.  I am however, proud of how hard I work at my relationship.  I am proud of the fact that I am a good mom and I am raising a wonderful, loving daughter.  These are things that I am proud about and the reasons that I am going to walk in the pride parade this weekend.  Furthermore, they are the reasons that I will never lie about who I am dating.  I am proud of the fact that I am an honest woman, living an authentic life.  And that is something worth celebrating.

My faith is restored

So many times there are things that cause my faith in humanity to falter a little.  Or a lot.  This includes the general ugliness of people around me as well as more specifically targeted hatred towards the LGBT community.  Hop online for longer than five minutes and you will be bombarded with stories in which people are discriminated against and belittled because of their sexuality.  It is nearly impossible to remain naive to the controversy that is happening in Russia, as they have somehow managed to regress instead of moving forward.  It is incredibly disheartening that the worst of the damage so often is coming from the very people that proclaim God's love.  The basics of the message are horribly twisted.  God loves everyone - unless you are LGBT and then God hates you.  What?  You're gay?  Nope, no mercy for you!

Thank goodness that thicker skin I special ordered came in already, because it's going to come in handy.

In light of all that, it is so difficult to remain positive and optimistic about the changes that are happening.  But today, I came across this incredible website that has restored a little bit of my faith.  Inspired by the It Gets Better Project, the NALT (Not All Like That) Christians Project has been started.  The goal of this project is to tell the LGBT community that not all Christians are like that.  There is love and support out there.  Spirituality and sexuality are not mutually exclusive.  So many videos have been uploaded already and I am beyond certain that there will be more to come.  I strongly encourage anyone reading this to go check it out for yourself and then tell everyone you know to do the same.  It won't be often that I really passionately speak out about something like this, but I welcome the opportunity to do so today.  

Now I am off to do the same as I only made it through a handful of videos before I had to stop and share it and I am dying to get back and watch the rest of the them.  Please go check it out.  I have a feeling it will help restore your faith in humanity a little bit too.

Becoming Real

“What is REAL?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit one day... "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When [someone] loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.

"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand... once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real

Over the course of the last few years, I have been on quite a journey.  In the process, I have come to know myself, the real me, better than I could have ever imagined.  As I've traveled through this space, I have hesitated to tell my story because telling the story made it real.  As long as I didn't talk about it, even to myself, it wasn't real.  It was fear of the unknown, fear of other peoples judgement, fear of their ignorance that kept whispering, "No one wants to see this part of you.  They won't understand.  They will think you are ugly and it will never be the same again once you say it out loud."  However, there came a point where I couldn't breathe any longer because this secret was suffocating me.  I began to tell my story.  To own my truth.  To be transparent and vulnerable to those that I hold dearest to me. 

It was during this time that I picked up a copy of 'The Velveteen Rabbit' for my daughter.  It sat on her shelf for the longest time before we read it.  The night came that it was the choice book, and we began to read.  When I came to the section that I have quoted above, my heart stopped and the light bulb in my head switched on.  How could I have ever thought that being real was a bad thing?  When I started to truly love and accept myself, I became real and there is nothing about it that is ugly.  The bumps and bruises, the battle scars, they don't matter.  They mean I have fought for something and that is beautiful.  Tears streamed down my face as that realization dawned on me.  Sitting there in a tiny bed with a toddler on my lap, I had one of the most amazing revelations of my life.  I offered up a prayer of gratitude as I wept at all of the beautiful real life around me.  Sweet, chubby fingers reached up to dry my face as I tried to explain that sometimes mommies cry when they are happy too.  

There will still be people that will not understand, who will think that this real is ugly.  But there are many more who love me so hard, that they have given me the courage to be real.  Those who don't see anything but the beauty in becoming real.  

To those who saw the beauty before I did, I am, and always will be, eternally grateful.