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.