Having Pride

 June is ending. Soon all the corporate logos will be back to their monochromatic normalcy and the world will be a little less rainbow.

I remember when I first realized gay people exist. I don't know how old I was, but the panic over the "gay agenda" was going around church. I remember the pastor talking about it in youth group. And I remember, before I was old enough that adults felt the need to talk to me about these things, being uncomfortable. I remember watching Worst Cooks in America, online, and there was a gay man competing. And of course, they had the episode where the contestants' families visit, and this man's partner came. And I remember wanting to close my eyes because I was very uncomfortable, but I thought that would be wrong. Because even as a kid, I realized that some people are just gay, and it's not okay to be uncomfortable with who people are. So I made myself not turn away when those two men kissed, and I kept making the choice to not look away when I saw homosexual people in media. And after a little while, I wasn't so uncomfortable. 

Obviously that's a very childlike and simplistic perspective. I'm not saying I did things right. I had no clue about the very broad spectrum of gender identity and sexual orientation. But I am proud of my childhood self for at least knowing that it's not okay to fear people.

It was a start.

A few years later, the topic came into my life again in a very personal way. People I love and grew up with, started realizing they're not straight and/or cisgender.

Once again, I was scared. But this time I wasn't scared of a progressive agenda. I was scared for my friends and how others would treat them. I was particularly nervous about church. My family's church had a course about the "issue," which I did not participate in. Everything was very confusing, and everybody seemed to be in a different place on the "issue" and loving people seemed secondary. The conversation was rarely, "How do we as a church reach out and love the hurting and repent to the broken?" it was, "Is being gay an abomination, or just a 'normal sin '?" "Is attraction a sin, or is just a relationship sinful?" "Is any of it a sin at all, or has the Bible been taken out of context for decades?"

Everything was very confusing, and experts, who seemed very qualified, were all over the map on what the Bible actually says and what God actually wants. 

Things were contentious. 

They still are.

Most Christians I know would consider homosexuality, being transgender, etc., as sins. At the same time, a lot of them are loving people who wouldn't/don't otherwise discriminate against others who do happen to identify with one or more letters in the LGBTQIA+ acronym.

And I've found my own position on all these things, which has brought me more emotional and spiritual stability.

All of this said, I've slightly taken for granted, in the past couple of years, that society and the church have been making progress. That we're moving beyond, "Are people sinning?" and on to, "Am I loving?"

And then.

I went with my brother Tristan to my first pride event last weekend. It was absolutely lovely. The whole thing was at a waterfront park in Bend, with live music and lots of booths by nonprofits and advocacy groups and vendors and even churches. Tristan's outfit and Bailey's existence were big hits. They both got many compliments. 😊

I'm really glad I went. 

But I've also felt heavy ever since.

While we were there, there was a protest on the outskirts of the event. A group of "Christians" carrying a sign that said "God does NOT love you as you are!"

My barometer for when a situation is spiritually unhealthy, is when I feel a need to stand up and preach. And wow, I still feel like preaching at people about it. I guess that's why I'm writing. There are so many things I wish I could say. Scriptures, especially. 

Nothing, not any created thing can separate us from God's love.

The greatest expression of love is sacrificing your life, which Jesus did for all of us when we were absolutely undeserving.

He loves us as we are.

No qualifiers to that statement. No ifs, ands, or buts. If God can love me, He definitely loves you. 

I have so many emotions that I don't think I can express myself well. 

If you care about someone's soul, you tell them there is hope.

If you truly receive God's love, you know it's freely available to others.

If you say you love God, but you don't extend love to others, you don't love God. 

All the things these people were expressing, are things that Jesus would call them snakes for. He would say they're being self-righteous and rejecting the very God whose Name they use to perpetuate condemnation.

At least, that's what He told the rule-following believers of His day.

And I wish I was brave enough to say these things to these people's faces. But there was mockery on both sides of the fence, and I saw myself on both sides, and I teared up and walked away.

I wish I could've said, "That sign you're holding is the abomination; not any of the people it's directed towards."

But I didn't, and now I sit at home and feel heavy with all the words and feelings I didn't feel safe to express in the moment.

On the flip side, I still have pride. I'm proud of myself for reaching past another cultural barrier that made me nervous and uncomfortable, and going to pride. And just like my childhood decision to sit with my discomfort until I wasn't scared of people who are different from me, it was so worth it.

I'm also proud of everyone else at the event. I'm proud of the churches that put themselves out there as a safe place. Of everyone who dressed up to express themselves freely. Of the musicians that poured out their pain and their hope and determination onstage. I'm proud of the person who had two lesbian bearded dragons and painted their nails rainbow and was excited to let us pet them. 

Multiple people at the event thanked me for rescuing/adopting Bailey. That's never happened to me before. And it makes me think, how many people have traumatic experiences that they need(ed) rescuing from, for things they can't change? And how could I help? And why won't the broader church help?

I don't understand why it's all so complicated. Am I loving God? Am I loving everyone, including the most unaccepted people around me? If I am doing those two things, I can claim to be a follower of Christ. If I'm not doing both those things, I don't think I can say that I'm truly doing what God wants. There's a lot of craziness and nuance and dichotomy in life, but I truly believe that's what it all boils down to. 

I don't feel so heavy now, so I guess I've written what I needed to write. I don't know if it's what you needed to read, but here we are.

Pride is a mixed bag for a lot of people. One of the musicians called it "Queer Grieving Month" I think. It's a time to reckon with and accept who you are, but also a time that can remind people... that not everyone else will accept them. The subject of identity is firmly in the forefront, and that can be both validating and painful.

Even for me, as an ace person who can very easily just live my life as a "good Christian girl," it's a conflicting time. What happens if I get married? Is that even a possibility? What do I even want a potential relationship to look like?

I don't know. 

I don't have answers for myself, let alone anyone else.

So, while I bumble along and do my best, I will hang onto what I know to be true of God. I desperately love Him for it all. And I will continue to try to extend love to everyone around me.

That's all I know. 

And I hope other people will extend the same courtesy to me. Because this is a difficult world and people can be cruel and uncaring.

Thanks for reading. Happy Pride! And may we all continue to seek God, accept ourselves, and love others for who they are. Even when it's not Pride Month.

Beauty

 "I am going to make a beautiful life for myself, no matter what it takes."

I'm sitting and going through my nighttime routine, but it can wait for a bit.

I'm experiencing a little warm glow of gratitude. And that's worth pausing things to just sit and focus on. 

I've been a bit discouraged lately. When I was in Eastern Oregon, I had my life together, a little bit. My trailer was organized. It was clean a lot of the time, even! 😅 The fact that I maintained things is a really big deal. Given the ups and downs of my health, keeping things manageable and putting them back in order is really difficult to do over any period of time. Often I feel like my life falls apart periodically, and it is so exhausting to pick the pieces back up again, that I often just ... don't. 

It causes me a lot of shame. I hate not feeling able to invite people over. I hate sitting down to rest and just seeing a bunch of "to-dos" everywhere I look. 

It's overwhelming and discouraging, and I hate asking for help. 

It can be hard to tell someone else how to help me. It's mentally taxing, and when my brain is already overloaded by the clutter in my home, sometimes articulating goals isn't possible. And, asking for help means admitting that I'm having trouble. Which isn't a great feeling. Also, for someone to help, they have to enter the mess: the source of my stress and shame and exhaustion. It's a very vulnerable position to put myself in. So I usually don't.

But then I'm isolated in a pile of dirty dishes and laundry and I still need to eat and wear clothes and be with people. So I get depressed and stressed and exhausted, and the cycle continues.

The apartment never really got fully clean after my first few months to a year there. When I moved into the trailer, I purposed to be intentional about what entered this space. I also wanted my things to be limited enough that even if everything were to pile up, I could look around and say, "Give me a couple of good days and it'll all be taken care of."

In Eastern Oregon, that was the case. I had just moved in, so things were organized and fresh. Hannah had helped me with everything, so when it was time to unpack boxes and settle in, I didn't have to explain it all to her. She knew where things were supposed to go. It was a lovely start, and I was able to keep things in that condition. 

After a project, supplies went back to their place. I was using my cousins' laundry room, so I had to be efficient with it, out of consideration. I had people over sometimes, and I never knew when Uncle Leland or one of the boys would need to come in to look at something or fix something. So I kept blankets and pillows piled in cozy corners of my couch, and kept the floor swept clean. 

I think the biggest thing, though, is that I was always around people. Whenever I wanted, I could pop into the house and hold a baby or talk to Aunt Sandra or my cousins. We did life together, and it consistently fed my soul and replenished me. So life in general was easier to manage. Also, the sun shines every day there, pretty much. And it is so life-giving. Even in frigid temperatures, I would walk out to the mailbox or to say hi to the cows, or give a carrot to Ike the old horse.

But then my time there came to an end. All of a sudden, I just knew it was time to come back to the valley. So things were very rushed coming back. Basically, as soon as we were confident that it would be safe to go over the passes, Mom and Dad came and got me! So packing was hurried, and things were shoved into boxes that still haven't all been opened. I think. And the trailer got parked by my parents' house, which was a temporary arrangement. So I was stuck in a liminal state for a few months. (Much longer than I expected.)

Then, finally, my little home got moved to the shop area on the other end of the farm. Right below the apartment I used to live in, actually! I decided I would settle in here, even if it's only temporary. Living in an in-between is worse than potentially packing boxes in a few weeks. And I looked forward to settling in and finally feeling at home again.

But then I kept getting tired. Again. And then I got sick! So some things have stayed in boxes, and other things are just not quite organized. And I was stuck in that cycle of looking around at all the "to-dos" and feeling incapable and exhausted. (To be fair, I was going through conflict with someone I love dearly, so that's where a lot of the sudden exhaustion for "no reason" was coming from.)

But the past few days I've started feeling better. My dishes have been consistently getting washed. My laundry has been getting folded and even put away!

And my pantry is disorganized and there's random stuff just sitting on my table....

Baby steps.

And while I wish I had the energy to reorganize the baking section of my pantry and clean off my table and wash my rugs and sweep and do everything else.... I'm pleased that I have clean dishes and clothes, and that they're not piling up and adding to the pressure. 

And then, today? I bought 3 cassette tapes to test the tape player that's built into the trailer. 😁

And I cobbled together the most lovely little dish set and got some teacups and saucers, since I'm going to give one of my dish sets to Hannah as a housewarming gift when she moves into the apartment. (We're going to be such close neighbors!)

Such cute teacups!!

There wasn't a full set of these blue floral dishes, so I mixed them with these solid blue ones.

My bounty!

And as I was winding down with a glass of kombucha before bed, (don't ask me why, but it works for me, despite the caffeine,) I looked over at my new dishes, and I noticed that I'm playing my cozy playlist for the first time in a little while. And I thought, I'm doing it again!

I am fighting to make a safe place for myself in a very big, exhausting, volatile world. I am investing heavily in the good and the beautiful. Not just investing my money, but my time. My mental, physical, emotional and even spiritual energy. I will continue to do my best. And I will continue to pick up the pieces of my life when they scatter and get away from me. I will put myself in a position to feel safe and secure and loved, so that I can reach out to the next person and honestly tell them that there is good in this world. Because I don't think I'm the only one who doubts and questions that. 

So I invite you; seek the good with all your might. That's where God is. He's with us in the dirty and the broken, but His character and His dream for us is revealed in the sweet and the safe and the strong. 

Brew a cup of tea or a pot of coffee and sit with yourself in a safe place and thank God for being there. Or just be grateful that you're here, investing a moment into something wholesome.

Build something as beautiful as you can out of broken pieces. And if you don't have the strength right now, come to me and I will invite you into my safe, cozy home. And we can have tea in my new little teacups and I will do my best to create a moment of beauty for you. I think everybody needs that sometimes. Or as often as possible, honestly.

Now that I've spent a really long time writing, I'm going to finish my kombucha and go to bed. I hope you have a good day/night, and that you get some time to rest yourself. Life can be exhausting.

-Dolly