No you didn't

Today as I sat and ate lunch on the campus where I work, I overheard two male college students discussing the upcoming election. One of the guys was on a diatribe about the media and how he had found the "real" answers via some "unbiased" media outlet. I was doing everything I could to ignore this conversation. I was listening to my dad talk about the steps he is taking to help immigrants to approach legal immigration and to assist lawyers in learning this process; such good work. The contrasting conversation at the table behind me was distracting, though. Ask anyone who knows me and you'll discover that I have a hard time staying on track in public places- I get distracted by the people around me.

I was able to focus for most of what my dad conveyed. I am so proud of the work he is doing. But as he spoke, the young man behind me said, "it's the oldest trick in the book, to say that you've been sexually assaulted and get attention for it. I mean, why wait 10 years?" As he laughed and rubbed the pretend tears out of his eyes he mocked, "I was touched and now I'm sad."

Instantly my hands began to shake and my heart starting pounding. I wanted to turn around and tell him to stop talking or go somewhere else. I wanted to tell him that he should consider that he's in a public place before making a mockery of someone's trauma, especially in a college that has more women than men. That matters, considering one in five women are sexually assaulted while in college.

I was sexually assaulted by someone I thought was my friend in my own apartment when I was 25. Despite the fact that I was first grabbed, cat-called, and chased when I was seven, it took years to admit that I had been raped. It took even longer to realize that it was not my fault. Thankfully no one ever responded to my experience with "no you didn't." No one ever asked me what I was wearing. No one accused me of wanting it. No one asked why I hadn't shared it before or doubted it because years had passed. Because my friends know that these are not helpful questions.

The type of accusation this young man was making about this woman is part of the reason that so many refuse to share their trauma. I am fortunate that the man who did this to me is not running for president; if he were, I might feel compelled to share my story. I'm thankful that I don't have to do this: it's enough to just have experienced it.

To hear a victim share the painful parts of their life means that they are opening up wounds that may never heal. Questioning the motivation behind the sharing does nothing to address violence against women in our culture. I bet this young man would have something else to say if it were his sister or future daughter confessing to these experiences. Someday it might be his wife who confesses to an experience like this. Will he deny her truth?

Regardless of political affiliation, to reduce the complicated structure of politics to media frenzy being controlled by "agenda," especially as it relates to sexual assault experiences, is to deny that the stories being told are more than just news issues for these women. She does not need you to believe her for it to be true. She has felt what is like to have her body be exploited. She will never forget what that hand felt like up her skirt. She will never forget what those words felt like in front of all of those watching eyes. She will never forget the way it felt to be powerless. To deny her story is to deny her human experience.

I bet she wished that her experience was fictional; I know I do.

In God I trust

In light of everything happening in US politics, this section of scripture came to mind. It was a helpful reminder to me that despite the title of president, there is a power greater who shows mercy and compassion. My heart is thankful. 

Psalm 146
Praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD, my soul.
 I will praise the LORD all my life;
    I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
 Do not put your trust in princes,
    in human beings, who cannot save.
 When their spirit departs, they return to the ground;
    on that very day their plans come to nothing.
 Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
    whose hope is in the LORD their God.
 He is the Maker of heaven and earth,
    the sea, and everything in them—
    he remains faithful forever.
 He upholds the cause of the oppressed
    and gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets prisoners free,
     the LORD gives sight to the blind,
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,
    the LORD loves the righteous.
 The LORD watches over the foreigner
    and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
    but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.
 The LORD reigns forever,
    your God, O Zion, for all generations.
Praise the LORD.

Inspiration

“I'm just going to write because I cannot help it.”  - Charlotte Bronte

“But how?" my students ask. "How do you actually do it?" 

You sit down, I say. You try to sit down at approximately the same time every day. This is how you train your unconscious to kick in for you creatively. So you sit down at, say, nine every morning, or ten every night. You put a piece of paper in the typewriter, or you turn on the computer and bring up the right file, and then you stare at it for an hour or so. You begin rocking, just a little at first, and then like a huge autistic child. You look at the ceiling, and over at the clock, yawn, and stare at the paper again. Then, with your fingers poised on the keyboard, you squint at an image that is forming in your mind -- a scene, a locale, a character, whatever -- and you try to quiet your mind so you can hear what that landscape or character has to say above the other voices in your mind.” ― Anne Lamott

“For it would seem - her case proved it - that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.” - Virginia Woolf, Orlando

“I have advice for people who want to write. I don't care whether they're 5 or 500. There are three things that are important: First, if you want to write, you need to keep an honest, unpublishable journal that nobody reads, nobody but you. Where you just put down what you think about life, what you think about things, what you think is fair and what you think is unfair. And second, you need to read. You can't be a writer if you're not a reader. It's the great writers who teach us how to write. The third thing is to write. Just write a little bit every day. Even if it's for only half an hour — write, write, write.” - Madeleine L'Engle

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” - Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

“If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.” - Toni Morrison

“The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.” -Anaïs Nin

This quote...

“If we commit ourselves to one person for life, this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather, it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession but participation.”
 ― Madeleine L'Engle

From the Journal of Elia B.

Last week Mario's nana passed. I don't have the words yet to reflect on all of what that means, but I wanted to share the journal that she kept briefly that I transcribed. I left the text as close to the original as possible because the small things we might see as errors are also little moments that made me think about her. I pray for her family as we continue to figure out what life will be like now that she is gone. Here's what Elia had to say...

From the Journal of Elia B. Zatarian
2/9/99 Here it is Feb. the 9th and I finally feel I’ve got my wits together enough to start this journal (with dad & Sam’s illnesses).
I want to dedicate it to Kelly, my favorite and one and only grand-daughter “in law”. I really appreciate your thoughtful and caring, loving personality. You’re one of the sweetest persons in our lives.
I was really moved to think someone actually cared to know something about me.

2/9/99 Describe your first “crush”. Describe him/her.
His name was Jackie Moran, and we were in the 6th Grade. I remember thinking how cute he was. He had curly light brown hair and big blue eyes & long eye lashes. All the girls had crushes on him, but I was the “lucky” one he walked home from school every day. We walked all the way from Sherman Elementary School 18th & L St. to 2059 National Ave. A mile and a half every day. (holding hands of course). Then one of the girls, Eunice (who had a crush on him too) reported the fact I lived out of the district, so I had to transfer schools and I never saw Jackie again. Needless to say I was heartbroken. Boo-hoo. But I survived. (This was fun, I can hardly wait til tomorrow to do the next one). Thanks Kelly.

2/10/99
As a child, what kinds of sports did you play? What is your favorite sport to watch? Why?
Age 10 we used to play marbles, spin tops, yo-yo’s, and skating, kick the can & Red Rover. We also played baseball. I loved playing baseball until I sprained my finger trying to catch a ball. Then I was afraid to catch.
I learned acrobatics in jr high that was fun. I was pretty good, but my sister Molly was great. She was double jointed & did splits, too.
I loved watching baseball and football in high school. I also enjoyed Pop Warner Football and Little League baseball while Marc was playing. Loved Track when Sammy ran. I loved it because my kids were playing.

2/13/99 What was the first piece of furniture you bought?
First piece of furniture was a hi fi radio record player combination. In 1943 or 44. It was a beautiful cabinet. We were proud of it. At that time the records were 78’s. We had a collection of all the big bands and of course Frank Sinatra. We had every record he ever made.

2/14/99 As a child, what color was your house, your bedroom, your living or family room? Describe your favorite if you lived more than one place.
We lived in so many different houses, I have no recollection of the color of my room or color of houses. My favorite house was the one on National Ave. It was a large two story home with a huge living room, dining room, and a great fireplace. The second story had a balcony and we used to sit out there and sing and look at the stars.

2/16/99 What makes you feel good? Do you have a “comfort food”? What is it?
Sitting out in the warm sunshine. Having my house nice and clean. Being in the company of my family. My comfort food must be chocolate Hershey’s kisses and Snickers Bar. I especially feel good when I know everything is going well with my children.

Do you and your mother share an interest in any special activity or hobby? What is it?
My mother lived to the ripe age of 99 was from the “old school.” She was a hard working woman, she enjoyed crocheting and embroidery work. Taught all her daughters to crochet and embroider.

2/22/99 In what kind of extracurricular activities did you participate in school?
I was in the Glee Club at Memorial, also the Drama Club, CSF. I was in a play. I was in the “Blue Bird.” I was A.S.B. President.

2/23/99 As a youngster, what was your favorite dress/outfit? As a youth?
At age 11 I had what I thought was a beautiful red dress with white polka dots. It was made of organza or organdy, A-Line with a full skirt. I felt like a princess in it. At about 13 I had a brown form fitting pant suit (a hand me down, I’m sure) but I felt so svelte and good in it. I wore it for all special occasions. Actually it was the only decent outfit I had. At 14 I worked as a waitress (Whitney dept store). During the summer, I was able to buy all my school clothes. It felt so good to have new clothes to start school with. I kept those skirts and sweaters forever. I hated to part with them.

What are you father’s most memorable traits? Which of his traits do you share?
My father was such a hard working man. My brother Robert used to say, Dad’s like a beast of burden working hard, never complaining, never asking for anything for himself, everything he did was for his family. He always planted a garden so we always had plenty of fruits and vegetables. My parents had quite a few parties and I remember my dad dancing and making everyone laugh, except my mom. She was a very serious no-nonsense kind of lady. Dad was very affectionate with us kids but my mom always put a stop to us sitting on his lap. I never quite understood that. I guess I take my responsibilities seriously as she did.

Tell about the birth or adoption of your first child or a niece or nephew. Tell about births or adoptions of all your children, or tell a special story about the birth or adoption of a child in your extended family.
My labor pains started while sitting in a theater. The poor lady sitting in front of me was getting irritated because every time I got a contraction, I would push on the back of her seat. In the hospital I was embarrassed because the male nurse was someone (Art) from our neighborhood and I had to keep running to the bathroom in those flappy hospital gowns. After 28 hours of labor Jeanne was born. what a beautiful baby. I thought her dad would be disappointed because she wasn’t a boy, but he was thrilled. Her initial stood for Junior Elia Sammy.
With Sammy I labored three days very light at first but the last day was a killer. His dad got leave from the army to be with us, hah he partied every night, even broke the baby bed (some drunk fell on it).
With Marc I started labor at 8:30. I told Ming not to rush home. I had plenty of time. Luckily he ignored me and rushed home. Thank God we just made it to the hospital with only minutes to spare.
With Cory I did a lot of praying because at 3 mos. of pregnancy they couldn’t feel a heartbeat. The x-rays showed just a glob (as they called it). At that time abortion was illegal, thank God, because at about 5 months I felt movement but the doctor was very pessimistic. My mom also prayed to Our Lady of Perpetual Help (Socorro). That’s why we named her Socorro. I had picked the name Andrea but my mom (without my knowledge) had promised that if she was born healthy, I would name the baby Socorro after the saint “Our Lady of Perpetual Help”. Thank God she was a girl!

Are you a good letter writer? With whom do you like to correspond?
I am the world’s worst letter writer. Funny though, during the war I used to write at least 10 letters a week to all my friends in the service, all the kids we’d grown up with. I used to enjoy writing my cousin Lisa in Arizona. Now the only corresponding we do is in the notes we put in our Christmas card. I enjoy hearing from my former neighbors, too.

2/27/99 If you could be an animal, which would you choose? Why?
A cat, because they are so independent and can fend for themselves.
Where would you most like to go on a vacation? Why?
Mexico and see the pyramids. Also La Paz B.C. to see where my mother was born. Also Chihuahua where my father was born.

3/1/99 Do you remember any special feelings you had a child? Describe your fears and fantasies, etc.
I remember hating to come home from school to an empty, dark house. My mother always kept the shades down and our furniture was always covered. At one time I wanted to be a nurse, then I thought it would be fun to be a secretary. My craziest fantasy was I wanted to be a movie star.

1/2/2/01

It has been a long time since I’ve taken time to write in this journal. We are starting a new year, so I promise myself I’ll get with it again.

1/2/01 What is your personal secret to happiness?
This always brings to mind what Lincoln said, “A man’s as happy as he makes up his mind to be.” Or something like that. I have no secret. I just try to make the best of things that happen, of course I stew and carry on when things go wrong. But after all is said and done (ranting and raving), I try to calm down, talk things over with whoever will listen (now that I don’t have Molly). But then I turn it over to God, and trust in him.

Tell about the house(s) in which you lived as a child. Do you remember any addresses or phone numbers?
The first house I can remember was on Franklin Ave. We lived next to the Benekos Family, the Stavros’s, Biancos’, and the Rose family. House #2 was on 17th & Imperial til age 11. I went to Sherman Elementary. House #3 was on National Ave. 2059 National Ave. #4 Market Ave. #5 in Encanto. #6 Kearney Ave. #7 2084 National.

Tell about school: list special teachers, classes, friends, activities, humorous situations, achievements, etc.
My favorite teacher was Miss Love, my kindergarten teacher. She was so sweet and patient. Next was my 6th grade teacher, Mr. Woodruff. He was so positive and encouraging. He wanted me to sing for our class and all I would get out was a squeak. Most embarrassing! Then in junior high, the meanest teacher in school treated me so nice. I got teased and called Teacher’s Pet (and worse). In 9th grade I was a member of CSF (Calif. Scholarship Fed.). As presented of the Student Body (ASB), I remember how I hated to get up in front of the whole school to announce the programs. Why & how I ran and won I’ll never understand. My most embarrassing moment was when I played the part of the fairy god mother in the “The Blue Bird.” As the bad witch (hook nose, hat & all). The lights go off (I drop the witch costume and I have a beautiful white formal and princess crown). My line was, “Am I pretty or ugly?” The boys from our neighborhood yelled “Ugly!” Laughter. I could have died, then the lights went on, and everyone said ah; and applauded. I was vindicated!

1/3/01 Describe the downtown of your childhood at Christmas time.
We could always count on a sack under our bed with nuts, Christmas candy, an apple, and an orange, and one gift. I remember getting a baby doll one Christmas. I must have been 11 or 12. Another Christmas a pair of skates.

List each one of your uncles and aunts and tell one thing about each of them.
Uncle Charles is the only uncle I ever met. He and Aunt Marie (his wife, my father’s sister) used to drive down from Brawley 2 or 3 times a year. It was always so much fun playing with our cousins. Uncle Charles was a big blue eyed German and was very playful. Too playful, he’d squeeze you til it hurt. My aunt was very petite. She always wore spike heels and form fitting dresses. She was built like Dolly Parton. She was so nice and very intelligent. I can remember her and my dad arguing politics. She was a die hard republican and hated F.D. Roosevelt.

1/8/01 What are your favorite foods?
Enchiladas are my favorite food, but none taste as good as my mothers used to. Next is hot fudge sundae and See’s chocolate. I also like Prime Rib from Black Angus.

Where would you most like to live? Why?
I’m perfectly happy right here where I am. But it would be nice to have a place with a view or by the ocean, or river.

Have you ever been camping?
We used to camp quite a bit when Marc & Cory were younger. As soon as they became teenagers it all ended. It was hard for me to learn how to relax, do nothing, and enjoy nature. It was great after I learned to RELAX. The kids always had a ball, especially Marc because there were always more kids his age than Cory’s.

Tell about all of the places you have worked.
At age 14 I worked at Whitney’s as a waitress at the food counter. I enjoyed a lot of my friends used to come in to eat. I bought my own school clothes that year. I still remember all the clothes I bought. I worked at Grand Rapids in the jewelry counter one Xmas season. Worked one night in a penny arcade but quit because I was expected to call out to customers to come play. One day in a jewelry store that wanted me to go out and bring customers in that were looking in the windows. I worked at Glenn’s Drive Inn (that was an eye opener). I saw the seamy side of life some of those car hops (wow). I then worked at a drive in movie theater for a while. That was hard because I was trying to go to a business school at the same time. In 1951, I went to work for Harris & Frank in the Credit Office. Then I worked at North Island as a Dispatcher for 6 years. After I had Marc & Cory I started working for City Schools. Stayed there til I retired.

1/15/01 Describe your mother. Tell about her personality, characteristics, stature, coloring, talents, temperament, family stories about her, the role she played in your home.
My mother was very fair. Most people thought she was German. She was a beautiful young woman but I remember her as a large woman as I was growing up. She was very strict and a no nonsense kind of woman. Her mother died when she was very young. She was raised by an aunt on a ranch called La Bahina in La Paz. She was married at age 13 to a 35 year old man, Sosa. They came to S.D. before 1910. He was involved with Pancho Villa and she helped make flags for “Los Dorados.” They embroidered “Pan, Tierra, y Libertad” on them. He left her for another woman (he was a womanizer). Then she met my dad. He worked on their farm in Gardena. She and my dad and her 4 children moved to El Centro. They traveled by covered wagon.

What advice would you give to those who are younger than you?
Count your blessings. Enjoy every day to the fullest. Don’t fret over what’s past. Enjoy today and have hope for the future.

What games did you play in your house or neighborhood?
We played kick the can, Red Rover, Hide & Go Seek, Marbles, Mother May I?, Jump Rope, Baseball, Tops, Jacks, and as we got older we played “Spin the Bottle” and “Mail Man.”

6/20/02 Describe the philosophy of your parents for raising children.
Definitely “Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child!” They were very strict and no nonsense kind of people. they had to work so hard to survive. I think they were anxious for us all to grow up and get married and out of the house.

10/29/02 Did you go to college or receive any vocational training? When and where?
No.

10/28/02 Describe your wedding dress, bridesmaid dresses, etc. or describe a dress you wore for a special occasion.
Second wedding I wore an aqua knit dress, very popular in the 50’s. My favorite dresses were a ice blue princess style dress, very form fitting and a black drape style dress. Sexy then, not now.

Describe your fears, expectations, anticipation about getting married.
The first time I didn’t have a clue what to expect. Probably romance and togetherness. Ha, what a farce. Love forever. Ha ha. Second time I knew I had a good family man who loved me and my children.

How do you feel about the value of education- formal and informal?
Invaluable.

3/13/04 Tell about your social life as a teenager. Who were some of your friends? Describe some of your favorite activities.
My teenage years were fun. There were a lot of kids my age. There was Mary Lou J. (my best friend), Rosie B, Georgio, Bessie D, Doris H, Joe & Tony F, Sam S., Bud H., Bud D., Jimmie N. I belonged to the C.Y.O. We got to go ice skating, hay rides, picnics. At 14 we moved, and so did all the other families.
The neighborhood theater was very close to our house so we used to walk there. We rode the streetcar to the beach. We used to walk to National City to the swimming pool. We skated and rode bikes, played marbles, Tops, Baseball (in the alley), Kick the Can (in the street), Red Rover, Hide & Go Seek. Good, clean fun.

Tell a courtship story about your parents; how they met, etc. Then tell the same about yourself.
My father worked as a farm hand on a ranch in Gardena, CA. My mother’s first husband was his boss. When her first husband left his four children and my mother. My father felt sorry for her so he helped her raise her children. They fell in love and moved to El Centro in Imperial Valley where we were all born.
I met husband #1 as a teenager. He was part of the kids we all played with. He went with all the girls in the neighborhood before he “fell for me.” Ha ha. Any how I was the “lucky” one.
I met husband #2, Ming, at work. We both worked at Harris & Frank, a clothing store downtown. He was a divorcé with a son and I, too, was a divorcée with a son & a daughter. We were just friends at first saying hello at first, and had lunch in the lunch room. We talked a lot about ourselves and before we knew it, fell in love. He was the nicest, most decent man I’d ever met. So sincere and honest. He cared a lot for my kids, too. He was a wonderful husband and father.

What is the one invention you could not live without? Why?
The invention I would not live without is a car. Without it would have to depend on other people to take me places. I know we have a great transit system here, but it takes too long to reach your destination.

My band has a new logo. And a sticker. This is cool.

So my band, Katie Leigh and the Infantry, is putting together an album. It is a huge goal that we are working toward. And I’m pretty excited about it. You can find us on the web in the following locations:
http://infantrymusic.com/
https://www.facebook.com/katieleighandtheinfantry
http://www.reverbnation.com/katieleighandtheinfantry


That’s all. End shameless plug!

Yesterday the cup Dianne gave me started leaking. Upon closer inspection, a small crack was discovered. Initially I was not bothered by this at all. I figured I could use the cup to hold pens or maybe even to put a little plant in. As the evening passed I could not ignore the sadness that slowly wedged its way into my throat. And as I said the words "I know it was just a cup..." I lost it. I cried and felt the loss all over again.

It was just a cup, but it was the last thing she gave me. And with her gone, there will be no new gifts. There will not be another birthday when she can pick something up for me that made her think of me.

The fact that it happened on her birthday made me wonder if I should be examining the spiritual realm or something. Maybe she knew I had been thinking about her. Maybe she knew that the memories are happy but that there are still sensitive wounds that have yet to heal.

It is hard to let go of things that are important. It is hard to let go of memories that define me because the connections lead me to a sad place. I have a hard time remembering her without wishing that we could have done the other things on our bucket list. Then I remember the phone call and the plane ride and the conversations and the stuffed animal at the front that still kinda smelled like her.

She never would have wanted me to feel so much sadness.

All we need is Love.

What I am about to say may be controversial. And I’m pretty scared to put my opinion out into the web-o-sphere because things are so easily misunderstood and turned into hateful word jabbing fights that end in people de-friending each other in facebook world (which really seems ridiculous) or actually de-friending someone in the actual friendship world. But I know that I am not alone in my thoughts, which is comforting, and I also know that the spirit in which I write is loving.

I grew up in a Nazarene family. Some of you may know what that means. Basically it means I grew up in a fairly-conservative, Protestant church. The church has roots in the holiness movement, which resulted in some strict rules about dancing and drinking, but I never felt like I was a part of some strange separatist group that was out of touch with reality. They believed that those actions/substances led to sinful lifestyles. I guess I should table that aspect of Nazarene-dom as it’s really not what I wanted to address today and it is definitely a hot-topic for my friends who can’t imagine a world without martinis and mambos.

I was blessed to grow up with parents who taught us something that I have never really learned in church, acceptance. I could say a lot about that, and I probably will in my journals, but my heart has been broken recently by the continual lack of acceptance for some of my closest friends. They are amazing people who have fed me when I’m hungry, shared their candles and rooms with me when the power was out, and given me some of the best relationship advice I could have ever asked for. They are amazing friends. They remind me of the fact that we are created in God’s image, which I believe is love. They are my family. And they are gay.

Already I’m sure that someone I went to college with (Nazarene college) is already on edge. I must be a radical because I have gay friends. Or maybe I’m gay? Maybe I’m just trying to be rebellious. If you know me, you know that I am not rebellious. I love rules. I don’t sneak into movies or keep the change if I have been given over what was due me. I’m no rebel. To add to all of that, I am the middle child. I avoid confrontation and prefer to hold my tongue most of the time.

But my heart hurts too much these days not to say something. I read a lot of opinions about homosexual relationships from varying viewpoints and I keep coming back to the one thing that has always kept me grounded, is it loving? Now I know I’m making someone nervous. And there will be those who think “hate the sin, not the sinner!” I agree with disliking sin. Sin is bad. And my understanding of sin has been shaped by many of my theologian friends and my own studies. And my understanding, which constantly changes due to my human perspective in this infinite universe, is that sin is something that separates you from the community of God. The 10 commandments were rules that were given because they are helpful to living in a loving community. If you want to love your neighbor, you can’t steal from him, covet his wife, murder him, etc. It’s something I love about the perspective I have picked up from some of my Jewish friends. The value of remembering who you are as a community and who you are growing to be. Is separating and pushing someone away because they are gay a loving way to care for those in your community?

I know it’s more complicated than that. Because there are going to be people who are uncomfortable watching 2 men hold hands or 2 women hold each other. It is not what that person is used to seeing or even wants to see. It is different. And they don’t understand it. I am the first to admit that I don’t understand what it means to be homosexual. I have always liked people of the opposite sex. I had boyfriends in preschool, long before the sexual urges of puberty set in. And I know it was not because my mom sat me down and said, “You are supposed to like boys.” I just did. And as I have gotten to know friends who are gay, they can say the same thing. So how is that wrong? Is it sinful because 2 parts of the female anatomy might rub against each other in a monogamous relationship? Or male anatomy parts? Is it sinful because they are not married? Now that is a catch-22. I know there are members of the Christian homosexual community who abstain from relationships for whatever reason. And I’ve talked with some straight, Christian friends who seem to think this is the best solution. And this breaks my heart. Most people desire to be loved by a partner. I have dated men who are black and my current boyfriend is Mexican. 50 years ago the church said that was wrong. And I know that there is some clear racial separation that occurs in the Bible. So how is it that it would be ok now with the church for me to marry a Mexican man, but 50 years ago it would not have been a “holy” union? What has changed?

My mind now drifts to the ridiculous argument that “God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” According to the Pentateuch (first 5 books of the Bible/Torah), God created the world with creatures that would multiply. He created male and female. And it was good. And it was and is still beautiful. Because it allowed for creation to grow. (Not getting into the evolution thing here, just so you know). This is definitely something that is important to our existence on the planet. We need reproduction. But for those who believe that love is only about reproduction, or that marriage is only sacred if it leads to children, leave out those who are born without this ability. Does this mean that they have not been created in God’s image? I don’t think that’s true. I am pretty sure that God still sees that part of creation and thinks, “Man, that is beautiful.” And I’ve known some pretty amazing families borne from adoption of children (and even pets).

And then there’s the gay marriage debate. The ever-holy-sanctity of marriage debate. (This is the part where I am really nervous). There is so much to say, but I want to break it down into the pieces that I have been thinking about recently. The kind of marriage we have in the Western world now is not in the Bible anywhere. There is no dating, engagement, courtship, marriage in a white dress, reception with dinner and dancing (or not, if you’re Nazarene :) ) in the Bible. Marriage was a business contract. It was a way to acquire goods. All you had to do was marry off your daughter and, in return, depending on how wealthy the family was, you could get an ox or several oxen (as a female that brings up a host of new conversation points, but I will try to keep on topic here). Somehow when I think of modern marriages now, especially in the Western world, I don’t think of a goat being exchanged for a woman. So when I hear Christians refer to the Biblical value of marriage, I am very confused. Because I’m not interested in the Biblical marriages I’ve read about. I have no desire to marry someone who rapes me. Or to marry my future-brother-in-law if my future husband passes and I do not bear an heir. The context of the story has been lost. And the heart of God’s purpose for us seems to be set by the wayside. God wants us to reconcile ourselves to God. For me, the process of reconciliation involves me letting down my guard to see what I have been doing before I can ask for forgiveness. For my friends who think homosexuality is a sin, they are doing themselves a disservice by coming at the homosexual community, putting them on the defensive, and then expecting honesty. No one communicates effectively that way. Why would it work when it is about something so personal? And why is that something you are concerned with? Isn’t the greatest commandment to love? The accusations seem to separate, and then my brain goes back to the definition of sin: that which separates.

I know I haven’t scratched the surface of what I’m trying to say. Perhaps I should edit myself, come back in a few days, and see what I’ve managed to put together. For the sake of my own heart, though, I think I have to give you the raw version. Which concludes as follows...

I have sat with my friends who are gay and listened to them talk about heartache, dreams, hope, forgiveness, and even God. Being gay does not mean you want to have sex with every person all the time in a way that is careless and selfish. It’s not all about sex. I didn’t fall in love with my boyfriend because I wanted to have sex with him. I fell in love with him because of who he is. There are promiscuous people in both sides of the boat. And why is promiscuity wrong? Because it separates people from the community. Carefree sexual relationships leave people emotionally damaged. Just because someone is homosexual does not imply that they are promiscuous. But even my promiscuous friends are worth loving. If they ask me for relationship advice, I encourage them not to pursue promiscuity because it is damaging. This applies to both hetero and homo sexual people. We should do everything we can to love each other. If not us, then who?

My heart hurts for my friends who love someone and feel like they have to hide it, or even that it needs to be something debated in the place that is supposed to be accepting of all, church. I cannot understand the homosexual perspective, but I want to. Because I want to get to know all parts of God’s creation. And I want to love people no matter what. I will do the loving and let the judgment rest in the One who sees it all more clearly than I ever will. I hope maybe you will try it, too. You may just find that God cares more about love than separation.

Perhaps instead of us, as Christians, thinking we need to condemn those we do not understand, we should sit with others and love them. Perhaps we should talk with people who are gay and see what they think about God or even just what they like to eat for dinner. Perhaps we should come to accept the fact that there are people who are gay, and we should love them as God does. Perhaps we should love the similarities between us and accept that there will always be differences. And I think God thinks they are beautiful.

you have surprised me by being more than i could have wanted. and i'm happy for the first time in a long time. not just because of you, but your smile keeps my heart warm when the temperature starts to cool. i'm so thankful. there really aren't even words for it. it's kind of like watching the sunset on a warm evening with a slight breeze. everything comes together and it's pretty perfect.