Of all the commentaries I've read in the news, on blogs, and even throughout my FB feed, that conclusion saddened me most.
I get it. I get why the writer wants to throw the towel in. I really do. The church is full of flawed, sinful people.
Before I washed and moussed my hair for church, however, I engaged in a challenging FB discussion. Everyone stood their ground, but I surprised myself by sharing part of a story I've long held inside.
It still makes me nervous. But since I've never written what really happened the night an angelic presence visited my room, it's time.
Six months before my first husband, Jason, died, we faced several challenges. He lost his balance on a family trip and tumbled down a mountainous ravine. The scary fall startled us both. With no air conditioning in our car, the force of the wind on our drive home caused a corneal abrasion that turned into a goopy mess when his eye lid stopped closing.
Soon after arriving home, Sammy woke from a nap in tears, having scratched his cornea on his fuzzy blanket. While he proudly wore an eye patch like his dad, I discovered a growth on the back of Nathan's neck. A surgeon removed the fatty cyst weeks later and the growth was confirmed benign. But long hospital corridors tired us both.
Within a week, we dressed for a wedding rehearsal dinner but ended up changing a flat tire, on the side of a major highway, in the rain, instead. When the spare went flat, we called AAA. The next morning, when our car engine locked up a few miles away, we realized the toe truck driver had punctured its oil filter, leaving necessary oil in a puddle on the driveway. The engine recovered after a weekend of rest. But not me.
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| Jason's dad, Nathan, and Sam pouring kitty litter on the nasty spill. |
Within a week or two I dreamed that a friend from high school came to town. I hadn't seen her in years. So when I learned my dream turned to reality I was happy to visit with her.
Our friendship had gone through a major challenge years before after she "had an experience" with a female and asked if I thought it was OK. I cared deeply for my friend, especially since she'd lost her mom in a tragic accident, but couldn't altar my belief system to answer in the affirmative. I tried my best to communicate that I didn't want our friendship to end but over time my refusal to reverse my understanding of scripture created a Grand Canyon divide.
So I was pleasantly surprised when we enjoyed an afternoon together in our home. When she left, however, I found her glasses and agreed to drive them to where she was staying. Thankfully, at the last minute, Nathan asked to go with me.
As I pulled in the driveway, my friend sat half way up a long staircase (that led to the front door) with a CD player at her side. When I stepped out of my car, a Neil Diamond love song began to play. It felt odd. And the awkwardness only grew when Nathan opened his door, followed me around the car, and my friend shut off the music when he came into view.
My fledgling reserves shut down on my drive home. I wasn't sure what had just happened but it stirred a deep sadness that sent me spiraling.
It wasn't just the one incident. The unrelenting series caused an internal melt down that left me grappling with how to go on. My husband was losing neurological skills day by day and it was all I could do to stay above his daily decline.
So as I lay in bed in complete darkness , I cried out to God and He answered in a most dramatic way. A light shone in our bedroom; a floor to ceiling, intensely bright, half circle light appeared from our boys room across the hall. I tried to explain it away, even fought momentary fear. But when Jason and I compared notes the next morning we knew there was only one explanation to what we had both seen.
A divine presence had showed up to remind us one more time that we were not alone.
I want to be clear that I'm not sharing this to shame or damn homosexuals. But since Christians are being labeled "haters" because our understanding of scripture contrasts with popular opinion, I want to honor my story in its entirety. I've written about the angelic visit before, but have left out the part about my friend.
Why? Because I didn't want to stir contempt. But the truth is, I deeply grieved the lost friendship. It rocked my world. I never intended to cause hurt feelings or force a cataclysmic divide. But an irreconcilable chasm formed regardless.
Not all Christians hate. And not all homosexuals refuse to engage friends who don't agree. Labeling either group one way or the other does a major disservice to both.
Not long after the angelic light appeared, I marched around our back yard seven times. My boys followed like armor bearers as I prayed bold prayers, asking for breakthrough. When I finished and walked into my home, the chorus of this song flowed completely from beginning to end. It took me years to finish and record it. But the words set in song propelled me forward and gave me the strength to stay the course.
God didn't promise the hard stuff would go away but He assured me His love was enough to get me through every minute of every day.
So as we celebrate freedom this weekend, may our hearts be overwhelmed by the true freedom that is only ours in Christ. And may we love with the love He died for us to know.
photo credit: The quality of life explained, painting of a table top in a library kitchen, Artist's collection, Mexique, Zona Centro, Guadalajara, Mexico via photopin (license)
photo credit: The Bright Angel Fault via photopin (license)
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