unconditional 

To know the gift of unconditional love is to become one’s true self without fear. This is a milestone and my heart is happy.

My dad called last night. We had that talk about me being bisexual. I had wanted to be able to sit with him and discuss things in person, but according to him last night, he had something “weighing on his heart.” He just came out and asked me after prefacing it with how much he loves me and how he’d never stop, also stating that no matter who I am, I am his child first and his love for me will never change. 

Him being an Episcopalian preacher has no hierarchy over his love for his child. He also said that he’d known for years but didn’t know how to approach the subject, but he’s glad that I was open with him last night, that I shared myself at my full capacity. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, it was like a casual conversation. I’m grateful for that. I believe, this will open up new doors for us. Expressing how this makes me feel has no words. I don’t think they have even been invented yet.

We all have our skeletons. I am happy mine are out of the closet. 

But, what of the end?

endoftheworldart
Courtesy of CBS News/End of The World Images

Will it come with fire and brimstone?
Fearful children running alongside their parents–
Threatened to be charred while in motion.
Can we expect it as if in a blink of time?
A piece of history chewed up, swallowed, and spat
Back out to us dripping with disdain?
A deluge, a monsoon, a tsunami wrapped into one
Cast down from the heavens above,
Drowning us into oblivion.

The end will come with hungry mouths
Burdened by fangs–blackholes for bellies
Unable to fill.
It will come without us knowing,
During a moment where love
And destiny meet.
It will come with hopeless wings
Shy of flying and a soul fraught with pain.

The world will crumble,
Break apart, turn into dust,
And find its way jarred and placed
On God’s shelf as a reminder of
What he should not have done.
What of the end?

Can we rely on it to be on time?


Sometimes, I have to write my way out of a funk–out of the pain and sadness that I feel for this world. There is so much we can do if we work together, if we loved each other more. There are so many ways that we can contribute to making our world a better place. I wish… we did so much more of what we need to do.

Please, Don’t Shove Your Hatred Into God’s Mouth

 

IMG_20181230_090131
I have this tattooed on my arm to remind me that I am here to love all people no matter what. That is my goal. That is what God wants from me, of me. This is what God wants from all of us–for us to love one another. PERIOD.

It pains me that I am here before you now, sharing yet another piece by a great, solid, empowering Writer by the name of James Finn via Medium. Not only is this wonderful man an advocate for the LGBTQ community, but he also lives and breathes the work that he shares–this is his life. It has become mine too. What I am going to share with you is appalling, graphic in nature, and displays that this world is still hellbent on hate yet calling it God’s love. How? How can one fix one’s mouth and refer to any acts of hate, fear-mongering, and total disdain for the differences in others God’s love?

I will remind you, it is not.

His post, Conversations with a Homophobe is catching fire via Medium (as it should), and it details his conversation with a follower on Twitter who is Catholic and from what I can ascertain, firmly believes that heinous acts against those of the LGBTQ community are well-warranted and righteous performances of what God expects. According to him, we are to be weeded from the garden, cast out, dwindled down in lesser numbers, and all with God’s approval from the Catholic church. I will be the first to tell you of my upbringing– a Southern (based on region) Baptist from a family that was and is devout in Christianity. For thirty years, I trapped myself, kept myself in the closet, knowing full well of who I was well before I knew the term, the label, the explanation of how God crafted me to be. Yes, GOD made me, so he knew who I was before I became this flower of a person, this person who I love so much more now knowing that I am finally free in my own skin.

Being gay, a lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, queer, etc is STILL BEING HUMAN. Where is humanity? Reading Jim’s article, it goes on to explain the reason for his post on Twitter was to bring attention to that of a young man who had been hacked, sliced & diced with  machetes because he is gay and followers of the Roman Catholicism branch of faith took it upon themselves to make an example of this young man. He will probably die.

The young man was attacked because people found out he’s gay. He says they screamed at him about God and sin as they butchered him. They’re all faithful Catholics. They believe what their Church teaches about gay men being evil and depraved. They acted on that belief.”

From the Catholic Catechism:

“Homosexual persons are called to chastity. By the virtues of self-mastery, they can and should gradually and resolutely approach Christian perfection.”

Hmm. “Christian perfection.” No one is perfect, but God. We will always be flawed, and if we attempt any such advancements toward perfectionism, something we cannot obtain, we will be further reminded of our humanness–of our flaws. I love my faith. I love being a follower of Christ. I love God. What I do not stand for, what I do not love, is hatred toward any human being made by the hands of God. I do not care about the source, the whys, the hows, the whats–I do not stand for it. If you are a child of God, if you call yourself a follower of Christ, in any branch of the religious world, you are to love others as you love yourself and you are to do so according to the word of God.

GOD IS LOVE.

Please… Please stop shoving your hatred into God’s mouth. He doesn’t speak hate. He never has. He never will. Jim has asked that his article Conversations with a Homophobe be shared to all social media outlets. Facebook has deleted his posts. Twitter has done the same. Why? Because he is speaking against a major religious figurehead and for some reason, around the globe, but especially in the US, we are not to point fingers at those who believe they are on some sort of pious pedestal. I don’t mind pointing fingers, especially if you are wrong. Especially if it hurts people. And most especially, if it kills them. I am not on Facebook. I do not have Twitter. Soon, I will no longer have Instagram. Social media is not my bag.

But, I have a voice, so I am sharing this here.

Conversations with a Homophobe

I am blessed that I have a mother who was fighting for me without my knowledge when family members were sharing their thoughts of who I was or who they thought I was going to be. I am blessed to have a mother who still fights for me. Brothers who have all stated that they are waiting for anyone to fix their mouths and say something against me that is not of their approval. Friends who still stand by my side. Coming out a few months ago was hard to do, but I am more than happy that I did it. As a reminder, you can be religious, faithful, and devout–you can be all of this and not spout hate to those who are in some way, different than you. God is love. Anything else is not of God.

“Love one another.”

“Go Tell It On The Mountain”

mountaintop
Courtesy of Neil Rosentech via Unsplash

You pick. You poke. You prod. I have noticed the change in you and I am of sound mind. I am a whole spirit. I still have my good heart and I thought you had yours, but you are unveiling a side to you that I have never known. And then, we have never been what we are now. Open. Honest. We have always walked on eggshells, scared to reveal our true selves to each other. Yet, there was love.

Yet —

There Was

US.

I will admit, there are pieces of me I now feel should have remain caged, but then this bird would not sing. There would not be a tune to share and ears to hear it as it flows melodiously through the cloudsI am slowly moving forward. I am clearing a way for desperate dreams. I will not deny you the deepest parts of me if you will give me your word that you will keep them safe. And I do not think you will give me your word. I do not think you will trust yourself enough to understand what we went through. What I went through while being with you.

I do not need any more egocentric fools racing to bid on my sanity — how long will I have it? When will I break? I thought, because I want to believe in the good in you than evil, that you would fight to remain beautifulAnd not the type of beauty that’s plastered on magazine covers or as subjects of famous paintings, but the beauty that comes from waking up next to someone who spent thirty seconds gently rubbing your forehead and whispering to you until your eyes opened. Or the beauty that comes from watching a toddler take his first steps, giggling at the momentous achievement.

I wanted your beauty to last so that when I looked at you, I would remember what made me love you.

But like all things that need sweeping and clearing, it did not. We did not. And it started long ago when I confessed to sleeping with a woman. I did not take the time to understand how the newness of the news shaped you. Changed you. Cut you open and split you at the seams. From that day, nothing was the same. There was no going back.

You ran after God, sure that if you caught him, the pain that you felt would dissipate. Prayerful that if you caught him, that I would not be who I am versus who I was. You thought that if you could attack God fiercely and dig deep enough to learn all there is to know of him, that I would change. And there would be another woman and another and then you again. Because you had a part of me that no one else could get.

The mountain in me sloped intensely and I knew one day, you would get tired of risking your life to reach the top. I was selfish then. I wanted what I wanted and could get it without much effort. That is the downside to being young, manipulative, and weak. We do not realize the damage done to others until the same begins to happen to us. Someone said they saw you happy, that you asked of me in a way that sounded more like you wondering if I was finally happy too, rather than truly wanting to know of me — of my life.

I was happy to hear that you settled again. That you are still preaching, leading a flock to fields of endless dreams. You are still chasing God. All the while oblivious to the fact that you had Him in you the whole time.

If I ever see you again, years from today, moons from tomorrow, I would tell you to climb the mountain once more and take special care this time.

She’ll probably let you reach the top.


I’ve got a seed in the ground
That he’s blessing
No more stressing.
I’ve got a seed in the ground
And it’s growing
Now it’s showing.

This is my season, for grace for favor.
This is my season to reap what I have sown.


Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium