Skip to main content

easy

My news feed lately has been more political than usual.
I get most of my news from Facebook or John Stewart so I rarely feel like I can jump in.
But there is too much in the last week to ignore.
Confederate flags coming down.
Rainbow flags going up.
And for the most part, people supporting those decisions.

Four or five summers ago I got an email from a friend in Peru who had just had her heart broken. By a girl. And I think wanted me to make it hurt just a little bit less.
Sometimes I have good words. But this day, my words only made the wound so much worse.
Her heart ached from rejection, but more than that.
She thought that maybe this was god’s punishment. That she would never get to have her heart stitched back together because maybe something inside her was wrong.
She asked me flat out if she would ever be able to get married.
And the question was less about the law that banned it, but her faith that often made people avert their gaze when she took her place in the pew next to them.

It is one thing to feel rejected and heartbroken by someone you love.
I have experienced that.
It physically hurts and makes you not want to get out of bed or shower or listen to anything but terrible love songs. But I can’t imagine the ache that she was feeling because it was so much bigger than the damage one person can do to your heart. I knew she wanted me to say that of course God wanted her to get married…but more importantly that she was not wrong. Or broken. And that like my favorite Psalm says that she was "perfectly and wonderfully made". 
Instead I crafted what I thought was a beautiful response on heart brake and threw in a few Air Supply references that I am sure she didn’t get because she is younger and cooler than me.

She didn’t respond. For a week. 
And when she did she was not encouraged, she was pissed. 
I had told her that this was her issue and her fight and that I had plenty of my own issues to sort through. 
Pretty much in those exact words.
Words that I wish I could take back. That I thought had been spoken in love, but were really spoken in fear. I was afraid of condoning what I wasn’t sure of. Of wrestling along with someone else.  She eventually responded and said “if people like me were not going to stand up for her, who would?”
I guess I was hoping that someone wiser or braver would do it.

Her hurt taught me something.
You can not love someone fully if you are not willing to stand up for them.

There is fear in fighting for people who aren’t like you.
There is fear in being mistaken for the other.
I am not nearly as wise or brave as I would like to be, but I have heard that “perfect love drives out fear”.

A few years ago I briefly changed my profile picture to a red equal sign and I hated that I hesitated before doing it. That I worried what other people were going to think or say or judge. (and they did).
Me with my husband, 2 kids and a dog.
Me with all my health benefits and I only get funny looks at PTA meetings because my shirt is on inside out.
Me with clean water, more food than I can eat and white skin.
Me with all me easy and advantage and fear.

A few months ago I emailed some of my friends. Friends whose toast I gave at their wedding….(which is now finally legal!)…and I asked, what can a busy straight girl do to love your family better…because I am starting to think that my faith calls me to do that…not the other way around.

Her answers were surprising.
She didn’t ask me to put a rainbow sticker on my car or march in a parade with her.
She said things like let your kids play with my kids, talk to families like mine at church or school events. Especially if no one else is. Actually, I’ll use her words because they are better than mine, “Make sure your kids know that there are all kinds of people and families in the world - girls who like boys, boys who like boys, girls who like girls, families with a mom and dad, with two moms, two dads, (two moms and a step-mom...lol), etc. Ask them what they think about that, if they know any families like that, etc., just keep TALKING to them and don't be afraid of it. If you're not afraid of the subject then they won't be either.”
That’s it.
That is all she wanted.
That I could "do something just by being a safe and open person to talk to.”

Sometimes we make it hard.
But it isn’t.

Love it turns out is pretty easy.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

multiple choice

As I write I am procturing a test ( yes on a Saturday, and no I am not getting paid for it.) The room is silent. The only noises I hear are pencils scratching on papers and pages turning. If I listen closely enough I swear I can hear their brains turning. I have always been a good test-taker. I would still regularly brag about my SAT scores if it wre socially appropriate to do so(or an actual indicator of anything meaningful). There is something comforting about multiple choice. (well as long as you don't have the crappy all of the above or none of the above choices...just the classic A, B, C, D variety). There are parameters. Multiple choice means you have options. The right answer is right in front of you, and all you have to do is find it. Even if you don't actually know which one the right answer is there are usually clues, it can be narrowed down or worked backwards. Even a blind guess is likely to be right 25% of the time. These aren't bad odds. All you have t...
Post a Comment
Read more

Turning the question

My school has been sending me to some inquiry training. The “i” word has been thrown around since my education classes in college. It is one of those things that is really good as a concept but kind of hard to pull off in the classroom well. For lots of reasons. But the big one number is because teachers are reluctant to let go of the control. To let the kids loose with a concept and see where they end up. Let them discover, own it and share out all on their own. Without intervening. Then push them a little bit further and clear up any misconceptions that they are holding onto before they slip out your door. This is supposed to be the most meaningful way for a kid to learn. For them to discover rather than memorize. One of the other problems with inquiry and science is that kids have stopped learning how to ask questions. My son bombards me with whys all day long. Why are owls nocturnal? (which comes out a lot more like “not-turtles”) Why do I have to take a shower? Why ...
Post a Comment
Read more

what we mostly forget

Think back. Long and hard. Ten Years. Longer. At least twenty. Twenty five. Thirty. If you are old like me. And what do you remember? If you are like me a lot is fuzzy. Things that stand out aren’t exactly the kinds of things you find in photo albums. My earliest memory is being hit in the head with a pick axe by my cousin. I swear I heard my skull crack. But it couldn’t have been that bad in real life because I don’t even think we went to the hospital. Fast forward a bit. I remember my first grade teacher making me cry because I got my greater than and less than signs backwards. I remember being punched on the playground in second grade. If I sit here long enough and try more memories will trickle in. And some of them are good and happy and wonderful. But most of them aren't. I’m sure I played lots of games of chase and at popsicles and go plenty of smiley faces on my papers. I’m sure I made new friends and wowed them with my wit and strawberry shortcake dolls, but mostly I rememb...
15 comments
Read more