A prayer for GC 2019

It's here. A day I've been simultaneously waiting for with baited breath and dreading for the past three years. A million miles away (more accurately a few thousand) strangers, friends, and siblings in Christ have gathered, are currently discussing, and will decide in fewer hours than I'd like how full a member of my church I get to be.

I have been assured by clergy and laity alike that regardless of the UMC's decision today, the mission of PNW churches won't change, even though our name might. So all told, my daily life and the work I do as a queer Christian person will remain very much the same. My norm, locally, will stay consistent. And yet my anxiety remains.

Because this isn't about me. This is about something so much bigger.

Humanity needs a win. It needs power to take a step back, and recognize that it has the privilege to make change. The United Methodist Church has enough of both to be that win. We, as a body, have the ability to be a force that recognizes hate and oppression, not just against queer folks, but all marginalized groups in our midst, and rejects it. We, as a body, have the privilege to call out our own systemic bigotry, and apologize for the harm it has done. And I pray that we, as a body, have the grace and compassion to hear hurt when our siblings tell us they are hurting. And the humility to recognize that reconciliation is healthier than denial. And the love for our fellow humans that can lead to that reconciliation.

We need a win. We need oppression to speak to power and for power to hear it, really hear it, and recognize the wrong that it has done the oppressed. We need Jesus' real teachings, the ones about love, and peace, and being light in the world to outweigh legalistic understandings about who is worthy of that love.

Please be that win. Please let this General Conference be the one that we can proudly proclaim lifted up the lowly and and hurt and broken, and put the needs of others before the misguided prejudice of power.

Ending the silence

According to my post dates it has been 2 years, almost to the day,  since my last post. There have been many reasons for that, time, general laziness to write, forgetting the internet was a thing. But my meditation these last few weeks, and particularly my time as an observer at General Conference, have led me to break the silence.

For those of you not in the United Methodist know, General Conference is a meeting of members of the global UM church body, both laity and clergy, for the purpose of hearing and voting on petitions to change the book of dicipline. In non-church speak: United Methodist members and pastors from across the globe meet to change our rule book.

To give a bit of context, because it will be important later, the United Methodist Church is worldwide, which means we have members and leadership in Europe, Africa, the Philippines, Asia, and just about everywhere in between. It also means that changing church doctrine is a long, arduous, and not always loving process. Not to mention that getting any body of people from that many contexts to agree on controversial issues is basically impossible.

You also need to know that in 1976 the church body voted in language to our book of discipline that states that 'the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching'. Which means that while I am woefully underpracticed, my church family holds, and continues to affirm, the belief that I am incompatible with something I have believed and professed my entire life.

Oh, you should probably also know that I'm bi.

It feels weird to type it, because in the almost four years since I finally started living authentically I don't think I ever have. I don't really even say it that often anymore. I did for a time, as I slowly let my friends, siblings, local church community, and (a week ago) my parents know who I really am. Amazingly, not one of those groups of people has been anything but loving. But then, I'm from a fairly liberal part of the country, or at least I live in one now, and the people I choose to surround myself with generally believe in loving people despite of and because of our differences.

And I think that alone is why watching the  General Conference committee process go down the way it did hurts so much.

I come from a tradition within the UMC that believes that we are first called to love and at no point called to judge. Do my parents understand in anyway why or how I am the way I am? Nope. Do they agree with it? No, but I think we can make some progress in that area. Because regardless of their views on my orientation, I am first and foremost their daughter whom they love, which was made very clear to me last week. I'm sure we will have conversations, and I'm sure they'll be hard, but the fear that kept me from sharing my full self with them for 4 years no longer weighs on me.

So I went to Conference knowing that even when people disagree there can be love. Now I'm not so sure.

Because in the midst of beautiful and authentic worship, young people sharing the amazing work they are doing around the world because of their connection to the church, and bishops who called for the church to fully accept all people and not exclude a single group because they can't understand us, every single petition to remove or change hurtful language from our book of discipline was voted down. And I am hurt and frankly disheartened that in a time where my state, my nation, and the Pope have declared my rights as a person valid and beautiful, my own denomination that raised me to see good in all people can't seem to do the same.

I've gone back and forth about posting this. Because I'm honestly not sure how well being out outside of Seattle and my family is going to go.  Because if the wrong people read this it could hinder my ordination process. Because my heart still hurts from words that weren't directed at me, just people like me. But then I think of all my LGBTQI family and allies that I stood along side in protest of being silenced during the conference, and I think 'How can I not?'

So here it is. I'm queer. I'm proud. I'm beloved by God.  And I'm willing to educate those that are willing to listen more than they talk.

In my post from 2 years ago I talked about being listless, but not lost. Well I'm not listless anymore. I have always known that my call was to call the church into action and positive change, and I have never been more clear on what that change is than I am now. And I declare with a faith that can move mountains, and is going to have to, that we will be a denomination that lifts up all people as holy and conpatiable with Christian teachings, if my generation and our queer family and allies of all ages, nations, and creeds have to drag the rest of you kicking and screaming. 

And with God as my witness I will live out my call to be an ordained United Methodist minister because Love wins, and God's will, and not anyone else's, prevails.

Not all who wander

So it's been awhile.

Not as long as it could have been. I've had some random musings here and there.  But nothing all that substantial. I've been a little gun shy about posting for a bit. But I think I'm finally starting to get back to my old self.

Personal update before I jump in. My second show with the children's theatre I work with just closed. I stage managed again and if I do say so myself, I rocked it.
I'm taking a year off from classes,  transferring to Seattle U next year to complete their Masters in Teaching program which should couple well with the year of experience I'll be getting being a paraproffesional at an autism/typically developing integration school starting in September. I still feel called into ministry, and I still want to be a pastor, but my path has become somewhat cloudy, and I need a better way than theater to pay for school (go figure) so this seems like a logical step.

Which brings me to the point of this post.

Today I left my house en route to nowhere  in particular for the first time in 6 months. I just wanted to go be somewhere that wasn't attached to my computer. So, after making a pit stop to drop off the paperwork for my new para job I wandered to U Village to get some starbucks, (I have a ton of gift cards from the wonderful parents of my Grease kiddos) and wander. And inevitably, even though I really shouldn't be spending money at the moment, I found my way to Fireworks.

I have an odd way of finding inspiration when surrounded by things I like or by being in places I find comforting. Disney Land/World has always been good for it, and so has Fireworks. Walking in today I just kind of knew that I was going to find something to clear the fog that is finally starting to lift on my life.  And I did.

The attached picture is of the pendant I bought today. It goes on a bracelet I received from a good friend the day I finished my official internship at the church I used to work at. The pendant that came on the blue leather band reads: She took a leap of faith and grew her wings on the way down.  And if you know me you know how true that statement is. The one I bought today is more of a reminder.

Most of you who know me, know that depression has been a part of my life since high school. Fewer of you know that it's the reason I almost didn't graduate from undergrad and fewer still know that I've been barely functioning for months. Barely may be a bit of an exaggeration,  but I've definitely been on auto pilot. I hang out. I go to work. I did school till I could convince myself I didn't have to anymore. And all the while I ate, when I remembered, because I had to and slept because I had nothing better to do.

The hardest part was that I noticed how bad I was getting. I just didn't care. Caring was too hard. Getting better was too hard. I was barely afloat as it was, pitching water out of the boat just didn't seem worth it anymore. I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. My school no longer matched my beliefs, my call was out floating in the aether somewhere and I was jumping from one theater project to the next with no direction, second job, or clue what I was doing other than quasi existing on a daily basis. And I didn't want to know. Didn't want to make decisions or care or take care of myself. My life was sinking so slowly no one was noticing and all I wanted to do was let it.

I'm in a better place now. Counseling and good friends and a pastor who cared enough to both notice and take the time to talk to me about it have seen me through the worst of it. I still have more shitty days than good ones,  though that's evening out more and more. And I'm still wandering. Sure, I have at least a short term plan now, but my major direction is still a mystery. I know I'm called to help the church change, and I know I'm meant to be a big part of something. I just don't know what. And as daunting and scary of an idea as changing an institution as big as God's family is, I feel weirdly ready. It's not where I'm being led right now, not directly, but as I wear my new reminder i can proudly recognize that I may be a little listless at the moment, but I'm definitely not lost.