the L word

Trigger warning: homophobia

What's your best friend like?

I don't know a life without Emilee. We've been friends our whole lives.

We've been through it all together. From the moments in our diapers, to age six when my mom smothered us in makeup for a model shoot, through the rebellious high school days recklessly driving in her Beamer, all the way to now when we live 17 hours away in distance but still catch each other up on the latest thanks to Facetime.

Some really hard times too, like when her brother passed away when we were 16 and had to quickly learn what life without him would be like while simultaneously attempting to remain strong in hopes to teach our younger siblings how to navigate loss, too. We had no idea. We were all just babies.

She's been through some shit. She's pretty incredible. She's always been a leader. She could woo her way into anything growing up with her sales tactics that must run in her DNA. She's a creative soul, both in the tangible and in the ambiguous. Whether it be scrap booking and designing a room, or seeing the potential in people and their dreams, she's always got a plan. She's a goal - setter. She's an influencer. And she's lesbian.

You were on track with me until that last one, am I right?

It's okay, please stick with me. I'd like to tell you a bit more about our friendship.

I was 16 when I got the phone call. She explained that she had something to tell me. I don't remember much else about the phone call, but I remember her telling me she was lesbian with some hesitation in her voice and it was in that moment that Holy Spirit grabbed my heart and my hand and whispered in my ear "get ready for an adventure, I'm going to teach you how to love people." And that's been the ongoing journey for over a decade now.

As a girl who grew up in church and attended a private Christian school, I hadn't had too many run in's with the LGBTQIA community. As most are aware, (speaking in generalities) it's no secret that the Evangelical Christian community isn't too fond of LGBTQIA, to say the very least...

When Emilee told me her news on the phone, I remember a split moment where I felt I had a decision to make. For me at the time, it felt like I stood on a fork road where one path led to a destroyed friendship with her, and the other road led to judgment from my fellow Christian circle.

In that moment I honestly don't remember what my verbal response was, but I do remember inner tension in asking myself the all too common question, "what would Jesus do?" Jesus reminded me about love. So, I simply listened and before hanging up the phone we both exchanged "love you's!" just like we always had.

I remember running up the stairs to tell my parents, wondering how they would respond. I remember preparing some sort of speech to "stand my ground" and convince them that we could still be friends and everything would be fine.

I am forever grateful for my parents and their deep wisdom and deep love for people.

When I told them that Emilee was a lesbian, I remember them reacting as if I told them she decided to attend an out of state college. Like, surprised by the discovery, but also reacting to a matter of fact. I remember being overwhelmingly grateful for the response and felt an invitation to be vocal about my inner tension. I remember them bringing me back to Jesus- back to love- and teaching me, along with Holy Spirit, what it's like to love people regardless of choices, experiences, lifestyles or differences.

I. am. forever. grateful.

Emilee recently sent me a blog she wrote for The Redwoods Collective. She wrote about some of her life experiences and her perspective on being lesbian and Christian at the same time.

She introduces the blog by speaking very highly of me (something that brings me to tears). I bring that up because as I read her words from an outsiders perspective, I think "wow this is a really unique friendship." And ours is, in some ways. We've been in each other's lives for forever, and that's not very common. But another thing that makes it unique is she is a lesbian and I'm christian and our friendship made no significant shifts.

Unfortunately, that is uncommon.

I hate that that is uncommon.

I remember when I was 21, Emilee asked if her and girlfriend could come to Bible study with me. For one second, I was hesitant. Mostly for the fact that Emilee's girlfriend at the time was making some poor life choices that affected Emilee. Regardless, in that same moment of hesitation Jesus whispered "love thy neighbor."

I felt deep conviction for judging her girlfriend and responded with,"of course you both can come!"

Why do we hesitate?

I hate that we hesitate.

My dream is for the church to open their doors and open their arms. What if an entire culture felt loved and known by God? What if they didn't have to see "God hates fags" blown up in their faces only to question if that's really true? What if the church woke people up to their worth instead of opening doors to fear and shame? What if we stopped being exclusive and actually lived out the greatest commandment,

"Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love." -1 Corinthians 13:13

That's my ultimate dream. To love so hard that there's restored relationships and building bridges to close the gaps between cultures.

I want to wake people up to the Father's heart. I want to wake people up to how deeply seen, known and loved they are.

It all started with one.

Her name is Emilee.

I'll be posting her words shortly.

Thanks for reading. If you feel conflicted, confused or convicted, first of all, join the club. Second, I highly encourage you to press into it. I don't post this to make light of any particular situation, or to simplify what might be very complex. I certainly don't have all the answers, but like I said, it's been a journey of learning to seek the Father's heart, open the door to His deep love for me, and learn to encourage every person to walk through the same door. Because His love is not exclusive.

If you are reading this and identify as LGBTQIA, my intention of vulnerability and my honesty of questions, inner tension and experiences in learning to love is not intended to harm or hurt, but simply to educate communities at large and hopefully build bridges. I hope that these words are honoring and respectful.