Church

Nashville...

Nashville...

In a religious culture that taught me I was a worm, a wretch, a sinner undeserving of God's love, compassion, and forgiveness, I had no problem believing that, when God looked at me, all God saw was my filth, my brokenness, and my utter irreparability. I was shit, and despite my best efforts, that was never going to change. 

Home...

Home...

Moment after moment, my YES became louder, stronger, and more resolved. I did not go to Synod with many expectations. I certainly did not anticipate the Spirit opening me up in the ways she did. Nor did I anticipate the overwhelming experience of being loved and welcomed that came my way. But this is who God is, and this is how She works. 

Laying down arms...

Laying down arms...

In two of my classes last week, the topic of sexuality came up. One professor, an ordained United Methodist Elder, openly shared his belief that the denomination's stance against ordaining partnered queer persons and celebrating their unions is absolutely and completely wrong. Still vulnerable and weakened from events of recent weeks, I nearly lost it. I crossed my arms, avoided eye contact, and retreated internally. One of my classmates, an ordination candidate in the United Church of Christ, pointed out three categories of people involved in this controversy.

Those who feel called to stay and who do so...

Those who feel called to leave and who do so...

Those who feel called to stay, but for whom the burden of that call is so unbearable that they leave...