As my friends and family have a wide variety of opinions and beliefs, I knew there would be some people happier about my relationship than others. Some surprised me with just how supportive and happy they were, others surprised me with how horrible they thought it all was.
It’s incredibly painful to have someone tell you there is no way you can be who you are and love God at the same time. It’s hurtful to be told the gifts and passions driving your life were never meant to be expressed. We are one body, one with God.
“Bye-bye Deyah. Bye-bye Deyah.” According to Gil, my one-year old niece went around saying this all day after spending a weekend with her mom and I at a retreat.
How can so many people write off such a huge segment of our humanity because of a label? This can be applied to race or gender or any number of characteristics, but none of the labels can ever begin to describe the soul, that eternal light and energy that is so breathtakingly beautiful to behold.
Looking around me, I can see that sometimes we get so wrapped up in our business, we lose ourselves. The wind comes, our branches shake, and we forget to grip the earth with the roots God gave us. We don’t remember who we are and why we’re here, we feel ungrounded and become blind to what is most important.
I sat across from Sue at one of my favorite places to eat breakfast – the meal I most enjoy sharing with a friend. Though a work day, Sue had the day off (mostly) and I enjoy… Read More
The river was quiet and the night cool. From my vantage point standing in the back of the boat, I peered through the darkness trying to spot any trees or rocks poking above the surface — clues there was far more hazardous material lurking underneath needing to be avoided. During a night practice, it is not an easy task. Though the lights of the city illuminate the slough to some degree, it’s not enough to make the dangers obvious.
Within the beautiful scene of deer grazing in a sun-drenched meadow where the wildflowers sing in chorus, it’s hard not to notice God. But I wonder — what about in the unlovely? What about in the unpleasant places, the old and the abandoned? Is God in the dirt, in the garbage, in the scenes where hope seemingly has no place to go? I’ve seen so many beautiful places but have never stopped to look in the grime of the gutter. Can God be just as present and noticeable where we never stop to look?