...Thankful...
Twenty-eight years ago today, God (along with the assistance of my mother) gave me life, and He's allowed me to live a pretty awesome quarter of a century (and then some) so far. I'm trying to be mindful of all the ways in which I'm blessed, and I am making much more of a concerted effort to thank God throughout my day for all of my blessings, large and small. I still have a long way to go. I am, by far, no perfect Christian (not that such a thing exists), but I'm trying. And while this may seem like a self-reflective birthday post, it's not, actually. I feel compelled to write about something else tonight.
One of my co-workers posted a quote on her Facebook wall this evening, and it has really helped incite me to write tonight. The quote is from Rick Warren, and it states, "Our culture has accepted two huge lies. The first is that if you disagree with someone's lifestyle, you must fear or hate them. The second is that to love someone means you agree with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense. You don't have to compromise convictions to be compassionate." I love this, I really do. Before I expand on this, though, I'd like to give you some background to help you better understand where I'm coming from.
I went to a small, private Christian school, a school that I loved very much. I would change very litte, if anything, about my education. I would, however, have liked to change something about my experience: all of my classmates and I were very similar. There were almost no minority students at my school, and the majority of us were from middle to upper-middle class homes. Not surprisingly, I never had any real interaction with openly gay people until I went to college. I had a friend in high school whom I always felt was "closeted," and I felt awful for him. I don't claim to have been a highly enlightened adolescent; I was still forming my opinions on the matter at that time, so I wasn't sure how I felt about his sexuality, but I knew that I cared for him, and it bothered me to think about him being so uncomfortable and having to hide a large part of who he was. Unfortunately, I did not remain in contact with this friend after high school, but, from what I've seen, I think he's really happy now, which, in turn, makes me happy.
When I went to college, I soon became friends with my first...what do I type here? with my first "gay"? It sounds so ridiculous. I really, strongly dislike defining people by characteristics. Imagine how inflammatory it would sound if I typed the word "black" or "asian" or "fatty" in the place of "gay." I don't think people refer to me as that straight, white chick. Anyway, you get my point here. Back to the topic at hand. I became fast, close friends with someone who happened to be gay...and wonderful and kind and funny. I was going through a really difficult time when I first went to college. I experienced some things that pushed me into a deep clinical depression, but this friend was one of the things that kept me going, and I'll love him forever for that. As we became closer, we naturally talked about our lives, and the conversation turned to sexuality. I asked him what a lot of people believe about homosexuality: Do you feel like it was a "choice" you made consciously or unconsciously? He thought about it for a minute and, without anger or annoyance, looked at me and said, "Why would I choose this for myself? In fact, if I could, I would choose to be straight. Being gay is hard. People hate you. People are mean to you. People don't understand you, sometimes your own family doesn't even understand you." In that moment, I knew. I understood. His answer defined everything I'd been feeling but couldn't put into words.
I became friends with many more boys who happened to be gay as college progressed. In fact, I would say 95% of my male friends from college are gay, and I dearly love every one of them. I will never forget how vulnerable they were when they would talk, I mean really talk, open up, about their lives. I was burdened when they would talk about how they had yet to come out to their fathers or mothers or brothers or whomever because they were scared - scared that person would disown them, no longer love them. I could never imagine being afraid of losing my parents' love. Never. I don't want to know what that feels like. "Why would I choose this for myself?" You wouldn't. You didn't.
As a Christian, someone who's been raised on the Bible, it can sometimes be hard to reconcile these things with my faith. I know what the Bible says, but I also know what it doesn't say. Yes, it is true that the Bible says that man should not lie with another, but there are many things which are considered an "abomination" to God: premarital sex, children born out of wedlock, swearing, gambling, extramarital affairs, impure thoughts, gluttony, etc. Our laws don't actively discriminate against those to whom the previous list applies. I also know that nowhere in the Bible, nowhere, does it say that being gay damns a person to Hell. The Bible does say that the only unforgivable sin is denying Christ. I do know that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Who am I to judge? Who am I to persecute? Who am I to condemn? I do not feel that quoting one verse of scripture enables me to point a finger at another human being in scorn. It bothers me deeply that my precious friends are made to feel inferior, unloved, damned in the name of religion because that's not how it is supposed to be.
We are called to emulate Christ here on Earth so that others may see Him through us and come to know us. Jesus actively sought the "taboo" individuals over the "Christians" many times. He kept the company of prostitutes, thieves, liars, beggars, lepers, and criminals, for goodness sake! He didn't sequester himself in an ivory tower (literal or figurative) and demand that the people become like Him before he would first love and accept them. I do not in any way claim to be an authority on God, the Bible, or Christianity. I still have much to learn, but He is teaching me in His own way every day. I know that God is love. We are called, above all, to love one another. I want my actions to be a light for God.
I know that there may be people reading this who disagree with me, and that's okay. I did not write this to be confrontational or divisive; I simply felt compelled. Maybe I'm wrong. I've considered that possibility. Maybe I'm twisting scripture to suit my own purposes. But I don't think I am. Truly. I've prayed over this many times and asked God to show me if I'm wrong. I voted against Amendment One despite the stance of my parents and many of my closest friends, and something awesome happened when I cast that vote: I did not feel convicted as I walked out of the polling place. I thought I might...but I didn't. I felt peace. I felt happy. I felt love. I hope that no one misunderstands me and feels that I am asking you to change your beliefs; I'm not. I do not have the right to condemn anyone; I am simply writing my own truth. I just never want anyone to feel that God doesn't love him/her, especially not because of anything I've said or done.
When I think of the past twenty-eight years, I am awed. I've lived so many different lifetimes already - each one wonderful and terrible in its own way. I am so grateful that God has brought me to this place. I think of the girl I was, and I'd like to think she'd be pretty proud of the woman I've become.
One of my co-workers posted a quote on her Facebook wall this evening, and it has really helped incite me to write tonight. The quote is from Rick Warren, and it states, "Our culture has accepted two huge lies. The first is that if you disagree with someone's lifestyle, you must fear or hate them. The second is that to love someone means you agree with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense. You don't have to compromise convictions to be compassionate." I love this, I really do. Before I expand on this, though, I'd like to give you some background to help you better understand where I'm coming from.
I went to a small, private Christian school, a school that I loved very much. I would change very litte, if anything, about my education. I would, however, have liked to change something about my experience: all of my classmates and I were very similar. There were almost no minority students at my school, and the majority of us were from middle to upper-middle class homes. Not surprisingly, I never had any real interaction with openly gay people until I went to college. I had a friend in high school whom I always felt was "closeted," and I felt awful for him. I don't claim to have been a highly enlightened adolescent; I was still forming my opinions on the matter at that time, so I wasn't sure how I felt about his sexuality, but I knew that I cared for him, and it bothered me to think about him being so uncomfortable and having to hide a large part of who he was. Unfortunately, I did not remain in contact with this friend after high school, but, from what I've seen, I think he's really happy now, which, in turn, makes me happy.
When I went to college, I soon became friends with my first...what do I type here? with my first "gay"? It sounds so ridiculous. I really, strongly dislike defining people by characteristics. Imagine how inflammatory it would sound if I typed the word "black" or "asian" or "fatty" in the place of "gay." I don't think people refer to me as that straight, white chick. Anyway, you get my point here. Back to the topic at hand. I became fast, close friends with someone who happened to be gay...and wonderful and kind and funny. I was going through a really difficult time when I first went to college. I experienced some things that pushed me into a deep clinical depression, but this friend was one of the things that kept me going, and I'll love him forever for that. As we became closer, we naturally talked about our lives, and the conversation turned to sexuality. I asked him what a lot of people believe about homosexuality: Do you feel like it was a "choice" you made consciously or unconsciously? He thought about it for a minute and, without anger or annoyance, looked at me and said, "Why would I choose this for myself? In fact, if I could, I would choose to be straight. Being gay is hard. People hate you. People are mean to you. People don't understand you, sometimes your own family doesn't even understand you." In that moment, I knew. I understood. His answer defined everything I'd been feeling but couldn't put into words.
I became friends with many more boys who happened to be gay as college progressed. In fact, I would say 95% of my male friends from college are gay, and I dearly love every one of them. I will never forget how vulnerable they were when they would talk, I mean really talk, open up, about their lives. I was burdened when they would talk about how they had yet to come out to their fathers or mothers or brothers or whomever because they were scared - scared that person would disown them, no longer love them. I could never imagine being afraid of losing my parents' love. Never. I don't want to know what that feels like. "Why would I choose this for myself?" You wouldn't. You didn't.
As a Christian, someone who's been raised on the Bible, it can sometimes be hard to reconcile these things with my faith. I know what the Bible says, but I also know what it doesn't say. Yes, it is true that the Bible says that man should not lie with another, but there are many things which are considered an "abomination" to God: premarital sex, children born out of wedlock, swearing, gambling, extramarital affairs, impure thoughts, gluttony, etc. Our laws don't actively discriminate against those to whom the previous list applies. I also know that nowhere in the Bible, nowhere, does it say that being gay damns a person to Hell. The Bible does say that the only unforgivable sin is denying Christ. I do know that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Who am I to judge? Who am I to persecute? Who am I to condemn? I do not feel that quoting one verse of scripture enables me to point a finger at another human being in scorn. It bothers me deeply that my precious friends are made to feel inferior, unloved, damned in the name of religion because that's not how it is supposed to be.
We are called to emulate Christ here on Earth so that others may see Him through us and come to know us. Jesus actively sought the "taboo" individuals over the "Christians" many times. He kept the company of prostitutes, thieves, liars, beggars, lepers, and criminals, for goodness sake! He didn't sequester himself in an ivory tower (literal or figurative) and demand that the people become like Him before he would first love and accept them. I do not in any way claim to be an authority on God, the Bible, or Christianity. I still have much to learn, but He is teaching me in His own way every day. I know that God is love. We are called, above all, to love one another. I want my actions to be a light for God.
I know that there may be people reading this who disagree with me, and that's okay. I did not write this to be confrontational or divisive; I simply felt compelled. Maybe I'm wrong. I've considered that possibility. Maybe I'm twisting scripture to suit my own purposes. But I don't think I am. Truly. I've prayed over this many times and asked God to show me if I'm wrong. I voted against Amendment One despite the stance of my parents and many of my closest friends, and something awesome happened when I cast that vote: I did not feel convicted as I walked out of the polling place. I thought I might...but I didn't. I felt peace. I felt happy. I felt love. I hope that no one misunderstands me and feels that I am asking you to change your beliefs; I'm not. I do not have the right to condemn anyone; I am simply writing my own truth. I just never want anyone to feel that God doesn't love him/her, especially not because of anything I've said or done.
When I think of the past twenty-eight years, I am awed. I've lived so many different lifetimes already - each one wonderful and terrible in its own way. I am so grateful that God has brought me to this place. I think of the girl I was, and I'd like to think she'd be pretty proud of the woman I've become.
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