A lonely, tattered, rusty chair in beautiful British Virgin Gorda
Belonging is powerful. I have mentioned in previous posts the relationship challenges we have had with our Christian community, only after we came out in support of LGBTQ people. People have disappointed us, and we have disappointed them. I have done much soul searching as I try to understand what my relationship with God looks like now. I think I was quite a codependent, and perhaps my identity as a Christian was more about being in the right group than actually standing up for what I believed in. When you don’t belong where you once did and when the previous comfortable community has left, it really does make you think about what you believed and why you believed it. I know deconstruction is a term that is loaded, but it has been a helpful concept for me. I mean, if God is who we believed him to be, he will hold up under it, right?
I still feel hope in my gut that God is real and there is love and joy and peace and patience, kindness, gentleness, and self control, that reflects a soul that is god filled. And one of the reasons I feel hope of that is the church, or Christians. So here is another side of the “Dear Church” letters that I am happy to share.
I have a job supporting foster families. Many of them are Christians. I watch them day after day care for kids who are not theirs. They manage difficult behaviors with grace, and they love kids for days, weeks, months, and years. And then they often have to give them back, sometimes with grieving hearts but committed to having no strings attached. They surrender hearts full of fear for outcomes they can’t know or control. It is a constant toll, but they keep doing it until they cannot do it anymore. They do it, because something calls them to it–something or someone. Watching these people choose to do this hella hard work is bringing healing to my wounded soul, because this love… doesn’t make sense.
I have been attending a church for a few years that is small and still finding its footing. Its members are few. Most are hurting from a variety of church wounds, many in the LGBTQ+ community. But it remains a church- a place of faith in the Christian God. It looks different from any church I had previously attended. There is much hope, but zero judgment. Some in the church say they may not be alive were it not for the support they received there. I joined a Bible “restudy” the other night where I heard very different interpretations of Bible verses. Remaining open to the possibility of the reality of God gave me the desire to attend this sweet space where questions and imperfections were allowed. This has brought healing and hope to me.
My daughter’s family has been attending a church in their area, and I have been joining them when I am able. It feels more like “church” than the other one, for better or worse. Sometimes I don’t know if I can honestly sing all the songs. But when they sing Brandi Carlile’s Highwomen’s “Crowded Table” https://g.co/kgs/USQWGw6 I try to belt it as I tear up. They have been feeding hundreds of local houseless folks breakfast every Sunday morning for decades. They are an ecumenical church and very diverse. I was singing about God’s love while there recently, and I felt a very real warmth. Maybe it was simply a feeling, but it seemed like something in me was healing.
I really do not believe I can know if there is a God or not. I cannot be sure if my experiences with spirituality are from God or coincidence. I have feelings, but they may just be feelings. But I am open to the possibility. I think that is a place I would choose to be–more open.
Dear Church, Thanks to those of you who are able to care for the children who are displaced by things outside their control. It isn’t easy. There are people of faith and not of faith loving these kids, but most of the you I engage with are people of faith. And all of the you who do it seem to be called by something or someone. Thank you for sharing with me this healing love as I see you loving your kids.
Dear Church, https://missiongathering.com/mg-bellevue/Thank you for making a safe space for those who have been wounded by religion. Thank you for being aware of each potential trigger, and thank you for training people to be emotionally in tune with themselves and one another. Thank you for creating a very safe space for curiosity and healing love.
Dear Church, https://www.urbangrace.org/Thank you for pushing through hard seasons and sticking together. Thank you for feeding the needy in your city. Thank you for singing songs about God’s love, and creating a space where this love is able to be felt. Thank you for welcoming my kids. Thank you for showing me another kind of church that eminates a love less stringint or dependent on conditions.
Dear Church, You have helped me not give up this search for understanding God. This love that you show is a beautiful part of life where I want to belong. Is it just about the community? Am I just codependent? Perhaps. But it seems proven that people need each other, and it seems a reality that we were made to belong. Belonging and God can still be in the same space for me, thanks to these fine folks :).
How did so many people, many claiming to be Christians, give a person like Trump such a big win?
I have been listening to commentators that should have prepared me for this, but I was not prepared. I thought I was prepared for a slight win, but I sure was not prepared for such a significant one.
I feel a deep heaviness in my chest. It is hard seeing people I love celebrating someone who is factually a rapist, a thief, a liar, a cheat, a racist, who uses disgusting language in reference to women and communities of color. I do not understand how people who say they take the Bible so literally can excuse this. I have never felt so heavy for our nation. I have never felt so overwhelmed by “the sin of the land.”
I feel confused and wonder if I am having big feelings that may be the same kind of feelings that these people had 4 years ago. I have a family member who was scared when Biden won in 2020, and he told me things like “families will be divided similar to what happened during the Revolutionary War.” I saw the fear that drove people to post mean things about people they knew nothing about. I told myself they were just afraid. I tried to give them understanding.
But now I am afraid. I am afraid of those scared people. Those scared people who have been duped by a masterful manipulator. I remember, as a kid, being so afraid of being under the power of “the antichrist.” He was going to mesmerize us all into an army of robots to do his evil bidding and bring down truth and goodness. I don’t believe the Bible as literally as I used to, but if I did, I know I would still be confused and wary of the resemblance.
I am trying to tell myself that fear is never a good reason to act. So I will practice meditation, prayer, breathing, processing, etc. to keep myself calm. However, I am scared…maybe like that family member was 4 years ago. But my fear feels founded on a reality that our nation seems to be conned by a master manipulator. A nation is “calling evil ‘good,’”with this leader. I was warned about such people, and now those people who warned me are celebrating exactly such a person.
I am confused, because I had hoped we had a majority who would not empower someone like him. What does this say to our kids? How will it affect a population of LGBTQ+ folks who just want to live their lives and be left alone. Could this be about abortion? Really? Because the research shows that we have made much progress and abortion has decreased significantly over the last decades. Changes have been made to help make that decision less necessary. Is it possible that issue that has improved so significantly could be the reason to bring such a leader into power? It doesn’t make sense to me that Christians are celebrating this person. Oh, also, he is pro choice.
Perhaps it’s because of his stand against immigration. But that is not a Christian stance either. I believe many Christians are under a spell- the spell of a very, very bad man. I get that they may think he can lead our country toward a better life for them. But is their “better life” worth all the harm that may be done? I don’t understand. These are not reasons, according my very Christian upbringing, to vote for such a person. I do not get it.
I don’t know what to hope for. I know I want my friends and family who are scared like me to know that I am a safe person, who will be here to protect their freedoms. I am here to stick with those who are interested in showing love to all our neighbors, eat with strangers, be generous with those who don’t live or look like me, and stay strong to protect the vulnerable. May we see clearly and not be blinded by fear, but may we be supportive of all who may need it these next 4 years.
“Consider others more important than yourself.” This verse I learned as a little girl has shaped my life. It is a phrase that, to me, describes what respect means. Can it be taken too far? Of course, I believe it can. However, it has given me a perspective that has been one of my aims in life. It helps my ego not feel too weighted in relationships.
I remember wondering if this phrase could apply to parenting. I admit it is a pet peeve of mine when I see parents “talking down” to their kids. (I probably have not respected them very much :).) What might it look like to consider my kids more important than myself? It could look like celebrating their accomplishments or cheering them on when they’re down. Maybe it looks like giving them freedom to make mistakes and grow, being proud of them through it. What if I assume they will do the right thing, verses expecting them to fail? Respect definitely includes celebrating who they are instead of trying to force them into the “mold” of someone I imagined they would be.
What does it look like to consider my partner more important than myself? It could look like doing things that I know are meaningful to them. Or maybe I could let irritations go and celebrate all the parts of who they are, even the parts that are difficult for me. It could mean making time in a busy schedule to be with them or listening to them talk, because their words are important.
Respecting a coworker may mean sharing positives about them with the rest of the team or supporting them through highs and lows at the office. Taking a moment to share a smile and a “How was your weekend?” is respectful, as well as, paying attention to their interests and engaging around what you have noticed they care about.
Can I consider a family member who has differing beliefs more important than myself? I could avoid letting politics get in the way of a growing relationship with them. Maybe I remember their birthday and celebrate their kids’ milestones. Respecting them values taking opportunities to connect with them, even if it’s awkward; because life is short and they are more important than the issues we disagree about.
Who else might I have opportunity to “respect?” What would it look like to show respect to the guy with the cardboard sign at the end of the freeway ramp? How about the neighbor who has a Trump sign on his lawn or a Kamala sign? And the neighbor who has a pride flag hanging on their house? Consider a trans coworker? What about the person who doesn’t have their lawn as manicured as you’d like or who takes your parking spot at the gym or your pew at church? And the person who cuts in front of you in the Costco line? Do you respect the homeless person in the downtown doorway who’s high on drugs or passed out and smells like urine?
Who do we think of as more important than ourselves? Anyone? Everyone? In my most depressed moments, I think everyone, but I usually operate from the bubble of my own importance. To be clear, I don’t believe that respect requires a loss of myself. Respect of people includes a respect of myself. Prioritizing my own needs is important, so I have capacity to respect others. But respect doesn’t have to cost much. It can simply be a shift in thought or a surrender of a judgment. It may be free, but it is not abundant. On the contrary, it currently feels like it’s in short supply.
We are all people, each unique, who are incredibly complex, with different gifts. Respectful curiosity is something I need more of, and I wish it was more of a reflection of our society. Is there a person that comes to mind that you deem not “respectable?” What would respecting them look like? I have people that are not easy for me to respect. I am not suggesting turning a blind eye to people who have been abusive. However, I really hope to more generally practice “curiosity before criticism” and think about what considering others more important than myself might look like.
I am interested in your thoughts! Do you think “Considering one another more important than yourself” is a path of respect? Does that track?
This year is the third consecutive year I got to join the Seattle Pride festival in order to offer “mom hugs” to the LGBTQIA+ community. Some months ago, a dear friend texted me and said she wanted to join me this year. She has recently experienced very similar challenges with friends and family since her daughter has come out, and she wanted to show her support as a mom. I was so happy to have her along, because she has played a special role in my life. I would love to tell you more about her.
Kathy is a person who personifies welcome. I met her many years ago now at my very first Kindlingsfest. Kindlingsfest was a very unique experience. It was a gathering on Orcas Island that brought together Christians, artists, theologians, and intellectuals who were able to have hospitable conversations about God, culture and why it all matters. I credit my experience at these festivals with my ability to have kept my faith at all, because they gave me a lens that was broad and beautiful and free.
I honestly don’t remember the year, but Chris had discovered this “ministry” through a relationship with Kathy’s husband, who founded this Kindlings experience. We lived in Indiana at the time, but Chris eagerly signed us up for this first Kindlingsfest. I had become a listener of the podcasts that were the foundation of the ministry, “The Kindlings Muse,” and I was excited to attend as well. Chris ended up having to do a work thing that week, however, and I invited my sister in law to join me. I was nervous about what this experience would be like, but I did not need to be. Kathy was there, and she welcomed my sister in law and me immediately. We were not as important as many others in attendance, but that did not matter to Kathy.
That year was the beginning of a solid friendship that has never wavered. I also have grown close to one of Kathy’s daughters, and their family is one that is refreshing and fun and real. Being near them has been one of the best gifts of living in the Pacific Northwest. They are a model of curiosity and kindness, while they pursue the hope that we are created and loved.
My first trip to Orcas Island after Cailin came out, I was in a shop downtown. Orcas is a small place, and it was not the first time that Kathy walked in to find me visiting her island unannounced. We were happy to see each other, and she did what she always does. She started eagerly asking me about the kids. Cailin was in college, and Kathy asked, “Is she dating anyone?” I am not a good liar, and Kathy totally read my hesitancy around how to respond. “Is she gay?” she excitedly asked with a huge smile.
That moment is one I have remembered often. It was such a gift in an extremely lonely time. I was on the cusp of a very difficult season of relationship loss, and I was dreading the inevitable. Her enthusiasm for my kid’s uniqueness breathed life into me that has continued to be a source of healing.
She quickly understood that I had complicated feelings, and she said, “I am sorry. This is probably hard for you. Let me give you a hug!” She hugged me and told me about these two friends of theirs, guys who were married with two little boys. She showed me the adorable pictures, and her celebratory tone brought trust. She and her family would remain friends on this long journey we were embarking.
It brings tears as I write, these 6 or so years later, on the other side of so many friendships that are no more. But Kathy and her family are friends who have remained. And in June I attended her daughter’s wedding to an incredible lady; and she also is experiencing some of the pain that we have, because she fully supports her; and I now have the opportunity to remain a friend who is excited for her kids.
And this Seattle Pride Festival, with all of its colorful people, got to experience my friend’s deep well of love and support as she hugged them tightly. I hope it’s something that can happen many more times. Because more people need Kathy’s in their lives.
When Kathy wasn’t dealing out hugs, she was supporting our church by handing out stickers and getting to know people.Ready for Pride 2024
I thought I would share a reflection I was invited to share at church today. Thanks for reading.
When I was asked to talk today about resurrection and transformative love I considered what I would share. There are a variety of things I could share. Life is full of dying to an old way and living into a new way. I hope that my life will reflect millions of those patterns, exponentially as I get older. But I thought I would share three significant seasons that helped me become more open to these regular resurrection moments, big and small.
Love in my Spirit
The first “awakening” was back in my very evangelical time of life, about 20 years ago. My husband Chris was a huge C.S. Lewis fan at the time, and he had gone to several C.S. Lewis conferences. He really loved his times at these conferences, and so we decided to get childcare for our 3 very little kids and attend one with his parents. The conference was titled, “The Imaginative Worlds of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein.” I had never experienced anything like what that conference was. I remember Fernando Ortega was the resident artist, and there were speakers who were intellectual and also poetry readings. I kept thinking that I had never experienced a Christian conference where I did not feel like I needed to “work on something” or “repent”. I felt grace abound in the content, and it did awaken something in me. I literally wanted to engage with every person I met, with curiosity, love, and wonder at the creation that they were. I was not the same. I had become aware that there was a new kind of Christian event that made me a better human, without the guilt and shame. I began then to lose interest in the dogma that had kept me focused on my own limitations and shortcomings, and I wanted to press into the flow of humanity that invited the beauty of growth. The connections this group gave me contributed significantly to why I still have a faith in God today. The friendships that began there showed me a different kind of Christian community; and if I hadn’t experienced it, I think I would have attached all of Christianity to the rigidity of the fundamentalism I had known before. I am grateful to have had this experience that moved me from a world of shame to an openness to other God perspectives that keep me interested in Them.
Love in my Body
The second season I wanted to share was about 9 years ago. While the first experience was more spiritual, this was more connected to a personal, bodily awakening. Robin Williams had just passed away, and many were sharing about depression on social media. At the same time, a leader of a fundamentalist movement I had been involved in as a youth was exposed for thirty something sexual harassment allegations. Also, I was on a worship team and the leader was asked to resign due to indiscretions with another team member. The world as I knew it, my present leaders, my past leaders, and a respected celebrity had brought some clarity. There was much wrong with the world, and Robin’s quotes and stories about him helped me become aware that loved people can still have mental health challenges. I realized I was depressed and had been for some time. I decided to start seeing a therapist (which was very scary for me). We discussed my story: who I was, what I wanted, etc. I was made aware that I did not know the answers to any of these questions. I only had known how to be who others wanted me to be. I had grown up in a world of conservative religion where I thrived in being the person that did more than I was told, did things before I was asked, and worked hard to consider others more important than myself. That got me success in those places, but in reality I was very out of touch with my own self. The two big leaders being exposed made me realize I had lost myself in service to others and I had become a victim of a toxic system. I had learned to behave, submit, and be as completely selfless as I could manage; but I hated myself and could do nothing outside of someone else’s need. I was anxious, depressed, unhappy, and realized my “joy” was limited to being happy when others I helped were happy with me. My time in therapy has helped me grow in love for me. I can be alone with myself and enjoy it, which was not possible before. I have grown in understanding of who I am, what I like, and what I don’t like. I still sometime struggle with boundaries, but I am getting better. I am realizing what is appropriate and celebrating my likes and dislikes. I have left the old mindset of who I was, and I feel more comfortable honoring my needs so I can live in love for myself, others, and the world. My new love for myself allows mistakes, realizing growth comes through victories AND challenges. The important thing is to remain open to learning in all of life, not expecting perfection but humanness.
Love Discovered Through Practice
The last experience of awakening and transformation was more of an active practice. Many of you know that a friend and I walked across Spain about a year and a half ago. It was 500 miles done in 32 days, and was super impactful. People have asked what it was that was so “life changing.” There isn’t an easy answer, but it has something to do with the grounding practice of walking 15-22 miles for 29 of 32 days, WITHOUT a giant AHA moment. The plodding sound of our feet. The beauty of the landscape surrounding us. The sound of cow bells as cows literally were herded along beside us. The taste of red wine, poured out of a pitcher at our nightly dinners. The groans that come from sore muscles and joints. The conversations and laughter with fellow “pilgrims” at the hostels and along the path. We walked through the rain, got blisters, ate not great food most of the trip, and many days were just plain boring. Walking into the city of Santiago at the close of our journey was pretty anti-climactic with no fanfare for our huge accomplishment– just a few photos, a hug from a couple we had met along the way, and a long wait in a line to receive our certificate. However, in the days after, as I processed the trip, I realized how it had changed me. It was a concentrated life experience that mirrored reality. It was not cluttered by entertainment, duties, expectations, or any other of life’s distractions. It was simple but significant. All we had to do those 32 days was walk from where we were to our next destination. All day. Every day. We ate, we walked, we slept, and we fellowshipped. But we also walked 500 flippin miles across Spain! The mundane, yet intentional movement got us a hella long way.
I think that transformation is inevitable. It does not have to occur through excessive productivity or success in the world’s terms. Transformation and awakening by love might just as likely come from a partner making you coffee in the morning, a child relaying something that is important to them, a chat with a friend, or a morning walk to get your body moving. I used to thrive on people pleasing and acquiring kudos by overextending myself. What other’s thought or needed was the drive that kept me going, and if I didn’t have approval, I sunk into despair. These old ways still occasionally show up, but I can spot them more quickly now. I also am way more comfortable with the boring day to day, doing what I enjoy and trying to care for my needs and help those close to me. I make daily mistakes but try to keep an attitude of forgiveness for myself and others. I am no longer focused on fixing everyone else, preventing problems (of mine or others), or performing the way others think I should. Instead, I am more comfortable admitting I have needs and working to prioritize those needs. I HAVE been awakened by love and am open to letting it transform me. I am slowly breaking free from the old bondage of the past, and pursuing a more sustainable, peaceful, life of love.
It has been awhile since I initially wrote the thoughts below this paragraph. The original words came from a place of recent, deep hurt. So, I have given it lots of time and rereads. I also have REALLY appreciated the encouragement I have received from my last post. Many have reached out in love and kindness, and that has provided healing to my soul. Lastly, I realize that ALL of the church is not responsible for all harsh treatment of the LGBTQ+ community. There is a spectrum that goes from “shunning” or “turning over to Satan in hopes for repentence” on one side and moves with many stops all the way to some that are in “full celebration and inclusion of the LGBTQ community.” Many are somewhere along that spectrum and are really trying to understand how best to love this community that is different than they are. I really appreciate this spectrum, and I hope this post is helpful. It is only my personal experience, but I will be as honest as I can be.
Previously written post (edited)
At the risk of overwhelming, I add this post. I wrote this a few months ago after a very hard interaction with old friends. The previous post I shared has been written (except for the last bit) for about a year or so. I struggled to know if I should just share that one or this one, or both. If it is too much, forgive my humanity. I share with hopes that it will create curiosity, context, and compassion.
Have you ever had thoughts about people who have left the church? Have you ever looked up and realized they were gone, and wondered why? Or maybe you have known why, and shook your head in disappointment. There are many reasons people may leave a church, and I am not suggesting that pursuing those people is always necessary. However, it might be nice to consider whether they are hurting. I remember having judgmental assumptions of people who had been hurt by the church before I became one of those hurt myself. Judgments such as: Those people were weak in their walk with God, easily wounded, quick to embrace a bitter spirit, etc. And those people were definitely on a slippery slope. I am sorry to admit that these things ever crossed my mind, but they did, especially when I was much younger.
I have now become those people I used to judge. I have never been hurt so deeply as I have since coming out in support of my daughter. Actually, “we” because my husband has experienced it too. He used to be pretty oblivious to emotions, even his own. His dad has a funny story about him wondering aloud why emotions were even necessary. In our marriage, I have had more than enough for both of us. But, this journey has been really tough on some of our most precious relationships, and we’re continuing to navigate these emotions as the conflicts and confrontations never seem to completely stop. (Yes, I realize that posts like this may encourage more confrontations :)).
I want to re-emphasize that almost all of our family is willing to be with us at gatherings. They seem genuinely interested in our lives and our kids’ lives, even though things have changed. We have become more “liberal,” and I imagine that can be tough for some of them to accept. But I am grateful that they have not let us go or “turned us over to Satan”. We feel loved by them. However, I cannot say the same for some of our past closest church friends.
I do not mean to whine. This has been the hardest piece to share, because it feels so whiny. However, I know this is a common experience for queer people and families who support their LGBTQ kids. I believe something needs to change! I really hope that my experience will help those who are respectfully curious to have a deeper empathy for what people in their congregations may be going through. Or maybe some will have a clearer understanding about why people connected to this issue have left their churches. And that leads me to this most honest letter.
Dear Church,
Why do you assume YOU KNOW how people should live their lives? Based on our experience, why do you not allow us to support and celebrate our child’s beautiful life? “But the Bible says,” you may say. With respect, do you fully understand the Bible? And if you’re taking it so literally, do you practice everything it says? Or does “the other” just make you uncomfortable, because it’s not something you’ve experienced?
“God said it. I believe it. That settles it?” “I let the Bible dictate my life?” Here are a few challenges that took me about 5 minutes and admittedly are shallow examples.
Do you eat pork? Do you submit to your husband? Do you love your wife as Christ loved the church? Do you sacrifice a perfect lamb on the alter every year for your sins? Oh, Jesus fulfilled that need? Ok.
Jesus’ words come to mind actually:
Do you “Let those without sin cast the first stone?” Do you first remove the log from your eye before pursuing the speck in your brother’s eye? Do you “Judge not so that you will not be judged?” Do you, “Love your neighbor?”
There are 6 verses in the Bible about “homosexuality” (Actually, that word was not used until the more modern interpretations, beginning in 1946– see the film 1946 when you get the chance). Many believe (myself included) that those verses are not addressing being gay in a monogamous, committed relationship. There are many scholars who believe that those verses are addressing something very different than a monogamous, committed relationship. If you are willing to explore, their arguments are compelling. For resources, see this post https://respectfullycurious.com/curious-about-knowing-part-2/
In light of the fact that many don’t agree in this area,
Dear Church,
Your treatment of this people group and those who celebrate them is an arrogant position and causing harm.
Hard words to take
Here are some things that have felt hurtful that have all come from Christian “love”:
1)“I just need to let you know, I don’t agree with you on this. ” 2)“You don’t believe the Bible.” 3) “You are living in sin, and until you repent, you are out of fellowship.” 4)“You can continue to lead your small group, but if anyone in your group has a child dealing with this issue, we would ask you to send them to our elder board instead of discussing it with them.” 5)“I honestly don’t know what to do with you.” 6)“We are concerned for you.” 7) “God still loves you even if you find yourself off course.” 8)“We wish you would have told us earlier what you were going through, so we could have prayed for your daughter to have a change of heart.” 9)“I had to reach out, because I didn’t know if anyone was telling you the truth— that you are in sin.” 10)“God has been leading me to write this for years, and I finally had the courage to share it with you.”
Additionally, we have experienced an enormous amount of ghosting. Maybe that just happens over time, but it’s been a whole lot of people. Also, you may read some of these and wonder why they were hurtful. All I can say is, these are the comments that have created feelings enough to remember them. I am sensitive, and I could flush out the context of these comments; but I won’t take time for that here. I am happy to chat about it if you are respectfully curious. Just know that they were hard to take in the moment. This also is not an exhaustive list, but they include sentiments that are more common responses from church friends.
I have known those who have not experienced any harm from religion. I am a bit jealous of them. I sometimes feel I am grasping onto a faith that I want to trust has more to it than the people who claim to belong to it. Because the truth is, they are the source of hurt for us, not healing. Our journey with our own kids, it turns out, has been the easiest part! The “punishment” we have received from those who would have claimed to be our closest friends is the much harder part.
I know there has been much great work done by Christians through the years. However, often if you dig a little, it is easy to uncover tremendous power mongering and harm. Many organizations are run by the walking wounded, as podcasts, documentaries, and personal experience affirm. Some want our country to be a Christian nation, with a Christian leader, Christian beliefs for laws, etc. I believe our country should remain a place for all to live freely. Some sects of Christianity are not comfortable trusting people to explore and understand God in ways different than their own. Exploring different perspectives and shifting one’s belief comes at a cost in these communities. That has felt very real these last few years to Chris and me.
Dear Church,
I understand now when Jesus said to Peter, “No, to forgive 7 times isn’t enough. But 70 times 7. “ Because the harms will come and come and come. And forgiveness (the process, not the quick fix) does bring freedom. It seems He knew that we would have to keep forgiving.
Dear Church,
Please stop believing it is your job to save people. Please stop believing it is your job to police people’s life choices. It is not. I believe it is your job to shine your light in dark, hopeless places, as Christ said, “A city on a hill cannot be hidden.” It is not your job to convict. It is your job to love people, even if they don’t agree with you. “Loving” them by telling them they are wrong is not love. Loving them by refusing to associate without reminding them they are in sin is not love. If you know a grown person who is behaving a way that you don’t like, too bad. If you have children, you need to learn this before they are adults; or you will learn it the hard way after. Grown people are responsible for their own actions and beliefs. Only they and God can change their beliefs. They likely have reasons for their beliefs. Trust them. If they are wrong, they will learn without your “encouragement.” Every confrontation, controlling comment, and quiet gossip for the “prayer chain” is immature, manipulative, and pushing them farther away from you and God. You become unsafe, and they will not come back.
I am grateful now to belong to a church that doesn’t claim to know how people should live. They do claim to love people. And ALL are welcome. Yes, Liberals, Evangelicals, Buddists, Jesus lovers, Queer people, Republicans and Conservatives, and SO many more. ALL ACTUALLY MEANS ALL at our church, and I love that about it. And there are beautiful rainbow people to be in community with, so you can grow in empathy for people different than you.
Forgive my rant. I am licking very recent wounds of heartache and loss. I am learning better boundaries, and I am learning to leave people who are keeping to themselves alone, even if I miss them. I also try to remember that they are all doing what they believe is right. I remember I used to behave in similar ways, but I never want to again. When you experience the pain, you know.
Words that heal
These are words that have blessed us on this journey. They are ALMOST as impactful as the hurtful words. When I get a little more mature, I’m sure they will be WAY more impactful :).
Dear Church, and others,
Thank you for your kindness and grace. Here are a few things you have said that have blessed us.
1)”I want you to know, I stand with you in support.” 2) “Congratulations!!!” 3) “How is Cailin doing?” 4) “How can we show love to Cailin?” 5) “I can’t know what I would do if it were me.” 6) “All we know is we love you all.” 7) “Let me give you a hug.”
On those healing words, I will end. Thank you to those who spoke them to us. Hopefully a little will be learned here, but I know it is not my job to change the church or anyone. I hope my experience is helpful. May we have compassion for each other in these challenging times.
I imagine if you are at all invested in my blogposts and if you are at all affiliated with the church, you may feel like sitting ducks. Believe it or not, I am the last person that would want to be the cause of that feeling in you. I wanted to take this breather between “Dear Church” posts to say that while I have been busy, I have not been in a hurry to put that next post out. I typically prefer to behave myself, and sharing the next post feels a little like talking back to my Mama. And that didn’t fly in our house! 🙂
I am a bit of a chicken, but I also think it is OK to sit on my feelings for awhile and consider others. Man, emotions are SO heightened these days, and it is easy to want to react versus sit and take a minute. We are so quick to jump into whatever camp we feel most comfortable in, instead of leaving space for the challenges that the folks on the other side might be going through. So, I have been mulling over how my post might have been difficult for some. I also wonder how many will even read another post. But it really does not matter. I put these thoughts out in case they are helpful, and I hope they are. It does take courage, and courage takes time. That is probably the main reason for the delay. This is not the next scary post, but a pause for additional thoughts.
My sincere hope is that anyone willing to read would know that my intent is not to be mean or hurtful. It is hard to have someone accuse you of wrong, especially if you feel like you are sacrificing what feels good to do the right thing. I know my generalizing of the church may have been hard to take, because of this truth. Ironically, I completely understand and have also felt this sentiment. It was not my intent to generalize or assume that all church attendees were in the group that was causing harm. My hope, though, is to reach some people who are curious or don’t know, who may be open to discover what is hurtful and what is not.
Thoughts within thoughts
One thing I have found interesting is this. I suspect that if I had been quiet about my position of support for my daughter and her wife, I would have experienced something very different from the church friends. My daughter could be herself, and live her life; and I could probably even be in wedding photos. I feel fairly certain that it is the “loud” support that has created problems for myself. I really struggle with this reality and would like to be wrong about it. I understand that celebrating sin is not cool. I would never celebrate a murder or abusive behavior. Some may feel that my support is the same as doing that. That is an extreme example, but I think many communities I have been a part of would equate my support with supporting a heinous crime.
One of the books I read in my journey was God and the Gay Christian, by Matthew Vines. I read the last chapter where the author, who had same sex attraction AND loved the Bible, pleaded with those willing to support to support loudly. I felt compelled to do so, though it took me awhile. Courage takes time. He really felt the pain of not being allowed to serve in ministry and not even being able to darken the door of some churches, due to his honesty about who he was. Would he have been welcome to serve if he had stayed closeted? Most definitely.
This is similar to the conflict I encounter when I am open about my support. If I kept it secret, I would be welcome in all my old circles of friendship and service. But my integrity keeps me from those relationships. This is really something, isn’t it? I don’t feel it makes a lick of sense. But it is what it is.
Ok, I’ll try to get my nerve up to share my now VERY edited letter to the church :). I know it won’t be as cool as Peter or Paul’s. Take a deep breath, church people. And remember, I love y’all! AND when I am not out of town, I still go to church :).
The Church in Leon, Spain. Just one of many cathedrals we saw on our Camino journey last year.
Traveling across Spain on foot gave lots of time for taking in the amazing cathedrals. They were awe inspiring with their grandeur, and I found myself curious about the unbelievable time, talent, and treasure that had been invested in these works of art.
I found myself wondering why? Were they concerned that God would not be pleased with anything less? Did they want to show the power of religion? Were they wanting to make sure that this cathedral measured up to the one down the road? Or why am I judging? Maybe they just wanted church to be fantastically beautiful to invite in the hurting, giving them hope that something that grand had to have power to heal. I know seeing a church as we crested a hill at the end of a long walking day, kinda gave me that feeling on my Camino.
Whatever the reasons, am grateful for the time, talent, and treasure invested. Walking through the vast time capsules that were these cathedrals was nothing less than a gift to me and others, these centuries later. They are stunning.
I imagine that modern church leaders discuss the nature of church buildings in similar ways. They may need them to have a big stage with fog machines, or they may focus on the practical with chairs that connect easily. I expect they want to be more inviting than austere, feeling warmer with their coffee shop vibes.
I like inviting. I was part of a church that I loved dearly where the pastor said that he wanted the atmosphere to be comfortable until you were in your seat. Then he felt the church leaders were responsible to work with God to bring transformation, which is not often comfortable. I appreciated this sentiment at the time. I felt I needed transformation, and assumed everyone else did too.
Another past pastor of mine used to say that he wanted people to be glad, at their funeral, that he was their pastor. He also clearly felt responsible to guide others on the correct path. I also feel this responsibility too, if I am honest. I think growing up a preacher’s kid gave me this sense of needing to help people toward the blessed life.
I wonder what it feels like to attend one of these cathedrals. Is it comfortable? It is a place of transformation? Is it the responsibility of the pastors and priests to invite us into comfort or conviction?
I used to believe so, but after some curious thinking I am less sure.
It must be a tremendous burden to feel responsible for all of those people. For the corrupt person, it could also support a tremendous feeling of power. Is this what being “called” looks like? Teaching people how to live? I wonder if there are things that are missing or even wrong in this structure called “church.” There seem to be lots of things spoken that are not demonstrated, things like “the greatest of these is love,” or “how can he say to his brother, ‘let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the while he has a plank in his own eye.” It can be hard to reconcile, and I understand all too clearly the challenge.
My family has gone through stuff. We have traveled the lonely path of being very involved in a church, then subsequently embracing a life of loving and fully supporting our lesbian daughter. Our daily life probably looks similar to any other privileged, white family. I try to love others well and live an intentional life, caring for myself and those around me; yet this has been a season of grief and loss of nearly all of our early church community.
I remember the echo chambers of the large, albeit beautiful cathedrals. I remember being in my modern echo chamber of a sanctuary and nodding my head, feeling so accomplished in my Christian successes. My husband was a Sunday School teacher, and taught challenging and thoughtful lessons. I remember our last Sunday there, before we moved away. I remember individuals in our class recounting all our valuable traits that they were going to miss. They mentioned the example of our lives, and how much they appreciated our friendship. We poured so much into that community, and loved them all so much.
I have always wanted to write a letter to them. I wonder why we have not heard much from most of them, since our daughter came out. We had a journey, that was not easy, of tears, searching, confusion, etc. as we navigated how to respond to our precious child. It would have been really nice to have some of those old friends reach out in support. When we did hear from them it was in urging us to change our position. That added shame to an already difficult time.
I know time also can affect relationships. We have all traveled a hard road through a pandemic and the divisions that came because of a vaccine. And amidst the sickness came some powerful moments of pain, as we saw again and again, Black people dying unnecessarily by the force of racism. And all of it is made political, including how to handle the LGBTQ community. https://respectfullycurious.com/did-covid-steal-your-relationships/
It has been 4 years since we were honest about our position on embracing the LGBTQ community. Time has been kind for those we have kept in close proximity with– our family and a few dear friends have been able to find a way to love us. But for many of our early church community, time has not been kind. It has allowed assumptions about who we now are and how we now live to fester. When we have revisited those friendships, we have felt the toxic void of proximity.
Next I will share my hardest post yet. My body fears it. It is not a theological treatise, but my heart’s response after yet another recent, deep wound from those who used to be our closest friends.
Dear Church,
Please consider the damage. Perhaps it is time to move from our austere places of worship, inviting or not, to life on life, with respectful curiosity and humility.
This is at the Seattle Pride Parade about a month ago. Do we look happy? We are. We have been through the backlash of shifting our perspective, and we have survived. We have more grey hair; our bodies are rounder; but we are not looking back. This picture was taken after I hugged approximately 100 people who are part of the LGBTQ+ community. I wrote a post about it last year as well https://respectfullycurious.com/do-you-have-a-superpower-are-you-using-it/. I do not know if there is any exercise that feels more spiritual than giving these marginalized people a huge squeeze, while telling them that they are loved and celebrated. It is a huge privilege, and I do not take lightly that these folks are open to a hug from a random mom.
But now back to the story.
Family
After Cailin came out to her siblings we decided together it was time to “come out” to the extended family and friends. We called our parents and siblings. We live across the country, so in person was not an easy option. In hindsight, we probably made many mistakes in this space; but we did the best we knew at the time.
I’ll never forget that day. Having all of those conversations was really hard. We empathized with our family members, remembering what it was like to be “on the other side” without having reason to explore anything different. Our ability to consolidate the previous year and a half of prayer and processing into words was limited and lacking I’m sure. I imagine they felt a bit blindsided and disappointed that we did not give them opportunity to contribute more to the process. However, we had navigated it the only way we knew how. We were not willing to compromise Cailin’s privacy, and it had been a really challenging season for us. We only had capacity to hunker down and work together, just us and Cailin and God. Too many voices in that space is overwhelming, and we were overwhelmed already. If ya know, ya know.
For the most part after that day we felt loved by our families. I am very grateful for the kindness our family has shown us, and we have few negative memories of those conversations. I’m sure we mostly survived them. I do remember we ordered deep dish pizza for dinner and watched “Derry Girls” that evening. We wanted comfort food and something funny to lift us out of our feels.
Since that difficult day nearly 4 years ago (it was Labor Day, 2019, I think), we have been through many challenging interactions with well-meaning people. After our initial communication, we had a number of responses that were difficult, including phone calls, letters, emails, etc. Some of the things that were said to us we will never forget, because they really hurt. We have had ups, like the above picture at the parade; and we have had downs, each time we have someone reach out with “concerns”. We are constantly learning and growing, hopefully in love and grace and forgiveness. But it is not always easy, and we are trying to remain respectfully curious.
I will write one more post (I think :)) on this topic. Adding to this one would make it too long. Thank you for reading. I hope my experience encourages you to be more respectfully curious about the humans in your world.
After the Pride Parade! Drinks and snacks with some of our favorites!
These photos are from August 19, 2019, thanks to http://www.danilalondephoto.com/. I remember how special they were, as it felt like an important time to capture how we were all doing. Cailin was planning to come out publicly soon, and we were wanting to publicly share our support of her shortly after. The first step was for her to come out to her siblings. Chris and I were very nervous.
I remember the day well. It was a Sunday afternoon in early August. Cailin invited Jaron and Bethany to go get Starbucks with her. Chris and I sat in the living room, with the lights off, dreading the possible outcomes. We discussed in trepidation how we thought it might go. This was the most weighty conversation for us, even though we were not part of it. If you are a parent, you know the desire to see your kids getting along well. The anticipation of a possible lifelong rift felt terrifying.
Chris and I often reminisce about that day, remembering what came next. The kids were gone for a short time, maybe 20 minutes. We heard the car pull up, and we were dying to know how it went while also dreading it. We sat in anticipation, looking anxiously at one another. The next moments were like going from the forest of doom into a field of flowers accompanied by a choir of angels! Seriously, it was dramatic! We heard our kids laughter as they walked up the steps to the front door. We smiled at one another. We exhaled. The biggest hurdle was done.
Once Cailin had left, we talked to Jaron and Bethany separately. We felt it was important to check in with them and let them know that they did not have to agree with the position that we had come to. We were willing to navigate the challenges of disagreement within a family. Let’s be real, it is likely to occur over and over, so why not start now? But no need yet. Jaron and Bethany both had precious responses when we asked them what they were thinking. They both said something similar to, “Well, we are definitely not surprised, as Cailin has never been interested in boys. And we do not claim to know all the reasons why she should or shouldn’t live a particular way. We love her and don’t have a problem with it.” This was music to our ears for so many reasons. We are so proud of our kids and grateful for the gracious people that they continue to be.
I think the above picture is a really good indication of where my relationship with Cailin was at this point. It felt a bit awkward. It may appear like I just jumped easily into the affirming camp with my newfound knowledge, turning off all my previous beliefs. That was not the case. As I mentioned in my last post: https://respectfullycurious.com/curious-about-knowing-part-2/ I am a people pleaser. My mom would tell you I was a very compliant child, and I liked “behaving” my way into approval from everyone. But that was all getting ready to fall to sh*t!
But also, the awkward feelings were real, because I had never been so close to a gay person before. And not just any gay person, this was my daughter! Even after a year it was a passage for me to learn how to love her. I wish I could say it was natural to embrace Cailin fully. I think especially because of my need to fit into the “approved of” space, it was hard. I expect she felt that. We need a new photo 😁.
This photo seems less awkward to me, but I have not asked Chris if he had similar challenges to mine. I doubt he did. He is less inclined to let as much bother him, and I am grateful. Our little family was intact, and that was the most important thing for us. I would get past my awkward phase.
The next “coming out” would be a big one for us, and would be costly.
