One of my least favorite phrases is, “There's no point in arguing with people; they never change their mind anyway,” and its close cousin, “protesting doesn’t really change anything.” I’ve heard these words countless times over my life.
Sending you all the love, compassion, and appreciation for sharing so much of yourself with us. Thank you. I appreciate all of it. Especially the parts that must be difficult. Because they show the humanity the most.
Not a smidgeon, not a whiff of self-pity in your tale about your labor of love, dear brother.
People do change their minds when they, of different minds, meet on common ground. Your story begins there, having discovered the common ground shared on both sides of a picket line. But that is just an appetizer in this entry. The main course follows. Like any delectable meal, I needed a break between courses.
But I was aware of the need to pace myself only when I was midway through details about the third baby cooking in mama's oven on 'the night before the proverbial Christmas' of ordination, and you felt ambivalent, wondering if you might better call things off. The ambivalence was a loud bell. Right? Isn't it confusing how we can remain in motion without little more than fear to feed on? The inanity of not stopping to ask why you felt ambivalent must now give you pause.
The best moment for me in your entry was you striking a pose with the Pussy Riot champions, who years earlier had pissed off Queen Vladimir and her evil sister Princess Kirill. The photos of you with these heroic Pussy Riot women, without you layered in brocade fabric surrounded by smoke before the altar, reminded me that every presbyter needs fresh air to breathe Jesus.
You had spent a good ten years, huffing and puffing up the Church's Sisyphean slope while rebreathing the oxygen-depleted air you had exhaled. The spiritual acid of the cardon dioxide you rebreathed made recovery for the next run up the same mountain harder. Eventually your will gave out, saving your heart from sure death after having been starved of oxygen.
What you had believed was who you were fell like a house of cards. At this point in your story, I felt empathy and more. I experienced love for the person you had become and would emerge in your experiences of honesty and genuine theosis. I see this emerging self through the mists. That the fact that all I can see is misty and obscure tells me the way has been dark for you. You have been tempted by despair. But let me say I give thanks to the Lord of life that you are writing the truth in the light. I am deeply moved by your work of the selfless self in your crafting of words.
Wish I could hold you in my arms and hug the stuffing out of you and tell you what a completely beautiful person you are. You have walked through a fire I'll never really know and come out with grace, kindness and love.
Thank you for sharing all your truth. I had such arrogance in my youthful religion, and it's painful and embarrassing to recall that. Those moments when you came to realization and took action, those are inspiring.
While reading your story, I found myself thinking about your family. I appreciate that you don't tell their story too, as it is not yours to tell, and that's something I rarely remember to honor in my own life. But I would love to hear them tell it, you know? I think Tashina's story must be beautiful too. ♥ (God I hope I remembered her name right)
Thank you for your honest, raw, heartbreaking tale of growth and hope. May you forgive yourself along this journey and take great comfort in knowing how your tale of growth both resonates and inspires the same in others. I send you great love.
Thank you thank you thank you. For not giving up, for fighting, for asking for forgiveness. You've become a wonderful man and I'm endlessly grateful we have you here, fighting the good fight: the only fight that matters, the one for love. I'm so glad you fought for yourself, for a way back to the you who never before got a chance to stand up in the light. You stand with us for all those of us who haven't, for those who never can. That's the secret I think: forgiveness comes in loving and living for those we lost. Those who can't.
Thank you for this message in particular. I really hope you keep showing your 'warts and all' as we need all the examples that it's human to be imperfect that we can get out there. Our past is important but not AS important as what we do *now.* What we say and do matters, and *this* matters. Every human needs to have space held for change, we aren't actually very static creatures.
May we build more on-ramps to love than off. May our fires continue to catch.
Bless you, dear man. I'm about the furthest we can get from the church you left, and that's why I say this. Welcome, and blessings to you and yours (especially your wife. I love her and her name dearly but I'm gonna keep your info private starting now. Your story is yours, you DEFINITELY tell it better anyway, hahaha. But as a bisexual polyam free spirit such as herself I think about her a lot, wishing her well too.) Keep on keepin' on, please please. Please. This matters now more than ever. I love that you lost your literal voice, sometimes we're very very lucky and get signs clear as that one.
De-escalating all conflict not with the enemy is now one of my main goals, as part of holding space for growth. It sure as fuck ain't easy, but knowing I'm in good company such as yourself helps a lot. Knowing those we hold space for where is very very difficult to can turn our like you makes it an easier thing to do. That matters.
Sending you all the love, compassion, and appreciation for sharing so much of yourself with us. Thank you. I appreciate all of it. Especially the parts that must be difficult. Because they show the humanity the most.
Truly beautiful. Thank you for sharing your story. It is inspiring on many levels.
Not a smidgeon, not a whiff of self-pity in your tale about your labor of love, dear brother.
People do change their minds when they, of different minds, meet on common ground. Your story begins there, having discovered the common ground shared on both sides of a picket line. But that is just an appetizer in this entry. The main course follows. Like any delectable meal, I needed a break between courses.
But I was aware of the need to pace myself only when I was midway through details about the third baby cooking in mama's oven on 'the night before the proverbial Christmas' of ordination, and you felt ambivalent, wondering if you might better call things off. The ambivalence was a loud bell. Right? Isn't it confusing how we can remain in motion without little more than fear to feed on? The inanity of not stopping to ask why you felt ambivalent must now give you pause.
The best moment for me in your entry was you striking a pose with the Pussy Riot champions, who years earlier had pissed off Queen Vladimir and her evil sister Princess Kirill. The photos of you with these heroic Pussy Riot women, without you layered in brocade fabric surrounded by smoke before the altar, reminded me that every presbyter needs fresh air to breathe Jesus.
You had spent a good ten years, huffing and puffing up the Church's Sisyphean slope while rebreathing the oxygen-depleted air you had exhaled. The spiritual acid of the cardon dioxide you rebreathed made recovery for the next run up the same mountain harder. Eventually your will gave out, saving your heart from sure death after having been starved of oxygen.
What you had believed was who you were fell like a house of cards. At this point in your story, I felt empathy and more. I experienced love for the person you had become and would emerge in your experiences of honesty and genuine theosis. I see this emerging self through the mists. That the fact that all I can see is misty and obscure tells me the way has been dark for you. You have been tempted by despair. But let me say I give thanks to the Lord of life that you are writing the truth in the light. I am deeply moved by your work of the selfless self in your crafting of words.
Wish I could hold you in my arms and hug the stuffing out of you and tell you what a completely beautiful person you are. You have walked through a fire I'll never really know and come out with grace, kindness and love.
Thank you for sharing all your truth. I had such arrogance in my youthful religion, and it's painful and embarrassing to recall that. Those moments when you came to realization and took action, those are inspiring.
While reading your story, I found myself thinking about your family. I appreciate that you don't tell their story too, as it is not yours to tell, and that's something I rarely remember to honor in my own life. But I would love to hear them tell it, you know? I think Tashina's story must be beautiful too. ♥ (God I hope I remembered her name right)
Thank you for being you. ♥
Thank you for your honest, raw, heartbreaking tale of growth and hope. May you forgive yourself along this journey and take great comfort in knowing how your tale of growth both resonates and inspires the same in others. I send you great love.
Thank you thank you thank you. For not giving up, for fighting, for asking for forgiveness. You've become a wonderful man and I'm endlessly grateful we have you here, fighting the good fight: the only fight that matters, the one for love. I'm so glad you fought for yourself, for a way back to the you who never before got a chance to stand up in the light. You stand with us for all those of us who haven't, for those who never can. That's the secret I think: forgiveness comes in loving and living for those we lost. Those who can't.
Thank you for this message in particular. I really hope you keep showing your 'warts and all' as we need all the examples that it's human to be imperfect that we can get out there. Our past is important but not AS important as what we do *now.* What we say and do matters, and *this* matters. Every human needs to have space held for change, we aren't actually very static creatures.
May we build more on-ramps to love than off. May our fires continue to catch.
Bless you, dear man. I'm about the furthest we can get from the church you left, and that's why I say this. Welcome, and blessings to you and yours (especially your wife. I love her and her name dearly but I'm gonna keep your info private starting now. Your story is yours, you DEFINITELY tell it better anyway, hahaha. But as a bisexual polyam free spirit such as herself I think about her a lot, wishing her well too.) Keep on keepin' on, please please. Please. This matters now more than ever. I love that you lost your literal voice, sometimes we're very very lucky and get signs clear as that one.
De-escalating all conflict not with the enemy is now one of my main goals, as part of holding space for growth. It sure as fuck ain't easy, but knowing I'm in good company such as yourself helps a lot. Knowing those we hold space for where is very very difficult to can turn our like you makes it an easier thing to do. That matters.