Everything Has an End, Even Sadness (?)

I so despise Thursdays. They are now my Friday at work, but they still represent more than that. I end them feeling alone, empty, wished to be forgotten. Maybe it's the place I'm in in particular. But every Thursday has its downs. 

I Don't Feel it Anymore

Oh take it all away. 

Gracefully Cursed

Hola!
It's been awhile, my imaginary .com friends.

So DOMA has been for the most part repealed, Prop 8 has been deemed unconstitutional and with that 13 states containing over 30% of the American population live in states where same-sex marriage is legal.  Battles have been won--astonishingly major ones of late--but the fight continues on.

This past weekend I attended two of my very good friends' wedding.  It was full of laughter and joy and ridiculousness, and love.  The fact that it was two women getting married was of no consequence.  Just overwhelming love and a really great party!

Now a lot of people might be getting really tired of hearing about gay marriage, conservative bigots, the "gay agenda" so to speak.  I can see where you're coming from.  Sometimes it just seems like an awful lot of noise.  But it's moments of "finally" like watching my friend boogie down the aisle to "Cupid Shuffle" with her dad that make all the tug of war games these groups are playing at worth it.

One figure that I'd like to imagine is less prominent than he probably is would be Mr. Pat Robertson.  He's always pretty blatantly honest about how he feels about The Gays.  Why just the other day he reigned down from his version of Christendom that if he saw a picture of a same-sex couple kissing on facebook he "would punch vomit, not like" were the option available to him.

To Mr. Robertson I pose this question:

It's rhetorical.

Hearing the interview with dear old Pat and the remarks he makes, I can't help but think of this monologue from the film Prayers for Bobby.  And with that I'm just going to let Sigourney Weaver speak for herself.  I mean, it's Sigourney Weaver, c'mon people.

"A child is listening."  Amen.

If you want to explore this a little bit more with me, or if you have some extra time, then I would encourage you to watch the following short film.  Blogger Rachel Held Evans posted about it last week and stated:

The film is meant to be provocative, of course, so not everyone will like it. But it reminded me of one important, reality-based fact: Most people begin to recognize their sexual orientation when they are just kids, when they are young and vulnerable like this little girl. So when we, in the Church, discuss homosexuality as though it were an issue faced by “other people” who are “out there,” when we resort to stereotypes and language about hell and judgment and damnation, we may be doing serious damage to the most precious and vulnerable among us. Even our casual conversations with one another can be picked up by little ears and internalized in destructive ways. We must never forget that there are kids struggling with the implications of their sexuality in our pews, in our classrooms, and at our own kitchen tables. I am reminded of Jesus’ strong words about having to give an account for our careless words and about the consequences of making any of these little ones stumble.

With all of this in mind, I pray for strength for the journey that we are all on.  One more video, I promise.  Because I think Bette Porter said it best of all when a mantra is needed to buffer against any kind of intrusion of self and ordained worth.

We out.

Devil's Thunder

A high school student from West Side came in to the Cuda the other day.
We had a conversation that I still can't quite shake.

I hadn't seen her since I'd been asked to step down, let alone spoken to her.  She's one I've known since she was in fourth grade, one of "my girls" whom I was a Trainee and camp counselor for.
After exclaiming a greeting to her from across the orange front counter, I told her I missed her and asked how life was.
She said all was well and she missed me too--that she never saw me as I didn't come to Fuel anymore.  Just like that.  Just like it was a choice and I simply didn't want to attend these past five months.

I don't know.  Maybe I'm taking too much of this for more than its worth, but it bothers me that any of the students would think that I didn't want to be there, that I didn't want to see them, that I had any choice in this for that matter.

We're reading a book for our small West Side Bible Study on this.  For the more curious, it's called The Gay Gospel? How Pro-Gay Advocates Misread the Bible.  A friend asked me today how the reading selection for the week was going; my unrestrained, immediate response:  soul crushing.

I'm so exhausted by this.  At least the other members of the group are all amazing, patient, thoughtful, open people and we seem to be accomplishing some things.  This book just seems to be destructive to where we've come at this point and discouraging.  Even if I was a straight person reading this, I don't think I'd be able to finish it.

Hopefully the meeting tomorrow goes well.  I know this was a random, semi-stream of consciousness update.  Perhaps someday soon I'll write a more thought out entry about the actual positive things happening in my life.

Until then, you're better off looking up tweeted pictures of goats.  All the cool kids are apparently doing it.
-KL

Blue Jeans

Everything seems to be a waiting game lately.

Waiting for decisions to be made.

Waiting for my mind to change.

Waiting for you to come home.

Waiting for the next day.

And the next.

The next.

What's next?