A couple of weeks ago, my neighbor invited me to a healing service at her church. Along with the details of day and time and location, she shared with me that her church was welcoming to ALL. I can’t begin to explain the comfort I got in that little word all. This is a small Methodist congregation that meets at two locations. Since I was aware of the split in the Methodist church, I knew what she meant when she said they welcomed all. So I accepted the invitation.

I have to tell you I was emotional before the service even started. I grew up occasionally attending church with my great grandmother and it was a Methodist church. I got confirmed in the Methodist church when I was 15 and attended regularly after I was married and had kids. And although I attended several different denominations along the way and ended up at a non-denominational church for 20+ years…this felt a bit like coming home.

The healing service was very meaningful. After having several email conversations with the pastor, I decided that I would like to visit this church for a service on a Sunday. I wanted to support them since they are accepting of the LGBTQ+ community. I felt very comfortable going for the first time. Mike and I were commenting afterwards about how it can be unnerving visiting a church for the first time. Of all places, a church should be a place no one should ever feel uncertain about entering. Shouldn’t that be the safest place of all?

I have to say that this was the most welcoming church I have ever been to…and we’ve been to many. We were greeted before we were even able to get out of our car. Everyone was warm and inviting and it felt very genuine. It’s a small congregation and you could tell that everyone felt at home. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and I’ve decided that I will attend there at least once a month. Again…I want to support them because they are accepting.

A few weeks ago at the church I attend regularly, we sang a song called Who You Say I Am by Hillsong. Singing this song brought me to tears. I couldn’t help but think of the people I know on this journey, not to mention my own son, that have been called the most appalling things because they are LGBTQ+. People tell them who they believe they are. Not all of these people are Christians of course, but sadly many of them profess to be so. The part of the song that really chokes me up is this…

Who the Son sets free
Oh is free indeed
I’m a child of God, yes, I am
In my Father’s house
There’s a place for me
I’m a child of God, yes, I am

There have been too many times that I’ve seen my friends in the LGBTQ+ community being told that they can’t be Christian. I recently saw a pole that 50% of LGBTQ+ individuals consider themselves to be religious. Yet many of them don’t have a church that they can call home. In my Father’s house there’s a place for me. God has a place for them, but His people take that away. I know of someone who attended a church where the members started a petition to get them banned. I know someone else who was told by the ushers that there were no available seats in the sanctuary only to see person after person enter after them and shown to a seat.

Yesterday in church we heard about a recent mission trip that some from our church members went on to Roatan. They go to an orphanage called Sandy Bay Lighthouse. Currently they are housing 25 children who have been abandoned or orphaned. The person sharing told us that they sang this song. She watched as these children sang with all their hearts despite their difficult circumstances. I would like to think that’s because the people who run the orphanage have been showing these kids the love of God. We sang the song yesterday as a reminder of what the team witnessed in those children. I thought I cried a lot a few weeks ago. Man it was tough to get through. I was again reminded of all of the LGBTQ+ folks who long not to be “church orphans.” At the same time, I was thanking God for places like the church I visited. I just wish there were more of them.

So…I want to remind anyone reading this of who God says you are…from the song

You are…

A child of God
Welcomed
Free
Chosen
And most importantly…LOVED…and it matters

That’s what the doctor said to me. A doctor I had just met. A doctor that knew nothing about my medical history. A doctor who didn’t examine me or ask me any questions. I was there because I felt something weird in my abdomen area and that was his response. There was no follow up discussion. No…if this is what you have…this is what we will do. I was dumbfounded and quite speechless. I was given a script for an ultrasound and was sent on my way.

I spent the ENTIRE year of 2023 and the beginning part of 2024 chasing this down. In the beginning, I was filled with so much anxiety about it (thank you menopause for a condition I’ve never had before in my life that now was consuming me). I got help to get the anxiety under control (I did EMDR and highly recommend it), but it did not take away the worry that of course someone might have given these words from a doctor.

I literally gave myself a pep talk every morning. I would remind myself that although my primary doctor didn’t know what was going on, he believed I would have other symptoms if it was cancer. I would remind myself that the doctor who said these words did not take the time to get to know me or my history. But then my brain would go down rabbit trails. So in so had cancer and had no idea because they didn’t have symptoms. Or this doctor is a specialist, so he is used to seeing this and I guess this is what most people have when presenting with this symptom.

It took a year and 3 months to get all of the tests done to rule out cancer. It was months of waiting for doctor appointments to get whatever script I needed for each particular test. Then waiting for availability to get the test done. Then months of waiting for follow-up appointments to get said test results. Then months of waiting for next appointment with next doctor and the rollercoaster just went on..and on…and on. It didn’t help my mental state that I know three people who felt something in their abdomen and it was cancer.

My life was on hold…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

I didn’t feel like I could plan anything because…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

I stressed myself out about getting the training done for our puppy because…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

I felt what was in my abdomen every day…and my brain would say, “something terrible might be wrong with you”…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

A year and 3 months later I still don’t know 100% what is going on…but all of the scary stuff has been ruled out. Words matter.

We’ve had this conversation here before about words and how much they matter. So much so, that I may sound like a broken record (I guess that’s a saying that only my readers of a certain age will get). Smile. But as long as I keep seeing people being hurt by words, I will continue to bring it up.

Something that is very frustrating to me is hearing someone that has a platform lie about the community that is so dear to me. What’s even more frustrating to me is the fact that no one will research what these people are saying. They take what they say as the gospel truth. This is so dangerous. Let’s take Tucker Carlson for example. He is well known for his anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric. He had guests on his show that falsely claimed that a particular hospital was performing gender affirming surgeries on minors…some as young as two and three. The night the interview was aired that hospital had a bomb threat. The doctors there received so many death threats that the hospital had to hire extra security. These lies could have had dire consequences with many deaths in their wake. These doctors lives were for sure impacted. Words matter.

Recently a non-binary student in Oklahoma was beaten by several students in the bathroom. They died the next day. The report lists the cause of death as suicide, but there has been a lot of debate about that as they wait for the final medical examination. The chatter I have seen about this makes it seem that the fact this student may have taken their life somehow leaves the students that did the beating off the hook. Unfortunately, this scenario of bullying is all too familiar for the LGBTQ+ community. The attitudes of our leaders don’t help any and I would go as far as to say feed the violence. At a legislative forum that took place shortly after that attack, Senator Tom Woods was asked why the legislation has such an obsession with the LGBTQ+ community (right now that state has over 50 bills targeting them). He responded that Oklahoma is a religious state, a moral state and they don’t want that filth (referring to the LGBTQ+ community) in our state. A religious state. Maybe they have forgotten that we are ALL God’s children. I want to know what Bible has Jesus referring to people as filth. Folks, when leaders have this type of attitude and freely speak about it…it’s no wonder this community is being attacked. Words matter.

As I addressed in my last post Six Days, I can’t imagine the cost these words have on the souls of this community. I shudder to think. I have personally seen the damage it does in the people who are no longer walking this earth because they just couldn’t take it any longer. Perhaps Senator Woods should take a look at Romans 8:38. Maybe his religious, moral state needs a reminder that God loves everyone.

What the doctor said to me in my opinion was very careless. He should have never handled my situation that way. It caused me a great deal of distress for an entire year. But at least I had an end in sight. This was about my physical body that I could do something about. The things that are said about the LGBTQ+ community are much more sinister and damaging. Things like being called a groomer, a pedophile, filth, sexual deviant…the list goes on. These words are about their character, their integrity, their souls. It’s so much more damaging. Studies show that the brain registers, focuses, stores, and recalls negative events much more readily than positive ones. This community not only deals with the fallout of the words said against them…they need to deal with the people who then think it’s ok to incite violence against them.

This month I finally have peace about what’s going on in my body. Those words that doctor said to me have finally faded. Thank goodness! I wish it was the same for the community that I love.

Words matter…let’s make sure they convey love…because it matters.

(I am having technical difficulties and needed to publish this post again. I apologize for the repeat)

I remember I had Good Morning America on in the background as I was getting ready for the day. The kids weren’t back to school yet because their school was under construction and it wasn’t finished yet. Kyle had spent the night at a friend’s house and I was getting ready to pick him up. The television caught my attention when they said a plane had flown into one of the towers. At first, the reporters on GMA thought it was a terrible accident. At this time, I was glued to the television just sick over the poor people in that plane and in that building. I will never ever forget the image of seeing that second plane coming in and crashing into the other tower. It was then that we all realized this was no accident. As I’m sure you have gathered, I am referring to 9/11. As I have been reflecting on that day, I am so saddened where this country is right now in regard to how we treat our fellow Americans. Where is our kindness? Where is our fierce solidarity? Our politicians need to get their act together and learn how to find common ground. We need to stop listening to the radicals on both sides of the fence that are trying to divide us just to get elected again. The lies they spew are unnecessary fuel to the fires that pit us against one another. If you can’t get elected with decency, then you don’t deserve the office you hold onto so tightly. Enough is enough!

That was my Facebook post on the anniversary of 9/11 this year. Since we are coming up on an election year, opinions are loud and the bickering is sickening. It seems that most politicians feel that they need a common enemy with the people in order to get elected. This isn’t new…I just never realized it was so prevalent until I was close to a marginalized group that was targeted. Right now, one of those groups is the LGBTQ+ community with a concentration on trans and non-binary people.

I promise this isn’t a political post. I fear I would be tuned out if I made it political. Instead, this is a post about the human heart and mind.

Did you know that in 2023 there have been over 520 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced in state legislatures. A record number. Over 220 bills specifically targeted trans and non-binary people…also a record. A record 70 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been enacted so far this year. I want you imagine living in a world where your existence is being challenged, fought against, and then put into law to the point where you can’t exist. What do you think that would do to your soul? What do you think it would do to your mind…your heart?

Imagine living in a state that suddenly has a LAW that prohibits you from getting the care you need for your transgender child. Imagine having to sell your house, leave your job and your extended family, to move to another state that doesn’t have said law. For how long? Could that state follow suit? Where does it end? What burden does that child carry because their family had to uproot everything they knew to relocate? What stress does that create in the family dynamic? Oh…but the children…we MUST protect them. Really??

If our government deems it necessary and says it protects children, then it must be true. Right? So that breeds ignorance and people who don’t know anything about the subject matter start fighting for it too…regurgitating what they hear even though most of it is unfounded and damaging…and while this is happening their children are absorbing these untruths and attitudes. What might that look like?

This is one example of what that looks like…A 13 year old child who identifies as non-binary was bullied terribly at their school when their classmates found out. Rumors were spread about them. The kids said things to them like, “No one likes you.”, “What’s wrong with you?”, “Don’t talk to us ever again.” The whole class ganged up on them. The last blow was when their best friend told them to kill themselves. Their parents came home to find them cutting themselves in the driveway and then there was a suicide attempt. It took a lot of effort to keep the child alive. I get that as I too have lived it with my child. Thankfully they have been moved from the small school they attended and after some therapy are doing much better.

I have a transgender friend who has gotten countless death threats on social media. Comment after comment rolls in tearing them down explicitly detailing how the person would like them to die.

Fighting for your existence…takes a toll. Being constantly told that who you are is wrong or who you love is wrong…takes a toll. The words that are carelessly tossed like grenades…take a toll.

Imagine being told your father died of Covid because of your “sin of homosexuality.”

Imagine being told you have “a demon of homosexuality” living in you by your mother. Then imagine her slamming you against a glass sliding door in your house while hitting you with a Bible screaming, “I command you to get out of him Satan!” Imagine your every move is monitored to see if you are thinking of “that wicked lifestyle.” Nothing you do is right or good enough and it all leads to you being gay.

And then there are the faces of the kids that came to my tent at the recent Pride event I did that tell me their mothers won’t talk to them. “Can I please have a hug…my mom doesn’t love me anymore.” How is this ok?? How does a mother look at her child and think that is the right stance to take? You know the saying that people will kiddingly say when they do something mischievous…”the devil made me do it!” Sadly, this disowning of children is coming from people saying, “God wants me to do it.”

I learned about something recently that was really fascinating to me, and at the same time I found horrifying.

IKEA did a public service announcement ad called “Bully A Plant.” It was some time ago, but I had never heard of it. It’s only 2 minutes and 17 seconds long and you can watch it here. In case you think that was a fluke, here’s a middle school girl who did the same kind of experiment. It’s also short and you can watch it here. And in case you think it’s just stupid luck to get the same results, here’s a sciency (yes I made up that word spell check – leave me alone) explanation from actual scientists that also did the experiment:

INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF INNOVATIVE RESEARCH IN TECHNOLOGY Vol 8, Issue 1, June 2021 Deepika Choube, Shubham Sharma Department of Psychology, Doon University, Dehradun, India “Plant seeds under the influence of the positive words had a higher germination rate, and these plants grew taller, larger, and healthier than [those] in the negative environment.”

For those of you who won’t watch the videos, here is a brief explanation. If you did watch them, you can move on to the next paragraph (smile). In all of the instances, two identical plants were put into the same environment with the same amount of light and water. One plant was bullied (students said mean things to the plant), and the other was complimented. The plant that was bullied died in 6 days while the other plant grew and flourished.

Six days and the plant died. Six days. I shudder to think of what is happening in the bodies, minds, and hearts of LGBTQ+ individuals that deal with bullying, discrimination, death threats, and laws enacted against them. I shudder to think of how their souls, their minds, and their hearts hurt each day as they fight to exist. As I stated in my first paragraph, where has the love of our fellow Americans gone? As we fight each side so hard to “make America great again” do we see that we are trampling our very own people in the process. Precious souls created in the image of God. Surely God must weep.

A person marrying someone of the same sex does not hurt you.

A person changing their name does not hurt you.

A person asking to be called by a pronoun does not hurt you.

But…not allowing these things, or dismissing these things, or refusing to do these things just may be killing them. Six days. These kids are our future.

It may be time to put aside how you think someone should live their lives and instead accept them for who they tell you they are inside. If six days can do this to a plant, what must six weeks, six months, six years do to a soul. It’s time to love on the LGBTQ+ community. Their lives depend on it.

And love matters…

I figured since I posted about Lucy here (The very best girl) it would be only fitting for me to introduce our new baby here as well.

It’s been a journey so I wanted to share in hopes that it may help someone else along the way. I have missed my Lucy so very much. I still cry every day with different things that remind me of her. Mike has seen me wandering around the house at times. He would ask what I was doing and I really couldn’t answer him. I felt very lost.

Well you know how Facebook is with their algorithms. I posted about Lucy and suddenly I was getting posts about dogs looking for their furever homes. Lots of posts. So many heartbreaking stories and sweet little faces. But I wasn’t ready for another dog…in fact I didn’t see how I could ever get another dog. I just wanted Lucy back. I also didn’t know how I could ever endure the sadness I felt ever again. Not only that, but I didn’t WANT to feel that kind of sadness ever again.

I have been seeing a counselor for some anxiety that I’ve been dealing with since entering menopause (thank you wacked out hormones!). She told me that I have such a kind soul and have so much love to give that I would probably need another dog, but only I would know when I was ready. Well if you’ve been following me for any length of time you know my parents got me a dog when I was four because trying to hug my bird just wasn’t cutting it. (Does someone need a hug). I knew my counselor was probably right, but I don’t know that I would consider myself ever really “ready” to do so.

One of the posts on FB showed that there was going to be an adoption event at the pet store by me. My counselor suggested that I go and just see what it felt like to see other dogs. I scrolled through the pictures of the dogs that they were going to have there. There weren’t any that were really speaking to me, but there was one picture that caught my eye. Mike came home from mens group that Saturday and he asked what was on my agenda for the day. I tried to go while he was out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I told him what my counselor said and he suggested that we go.

We got there and they had a ton of dogs. They were all different sizes, ages, and breeds. We walked around and stopped at each crate. I spotted the little face that I saw on the internet almost immediately. Online the dog was listed as a male named Spearmint, but this was a female named Peppermint. I found out later that Spearmint was her brother and was adopted before the event started. I circled around again and landed at Peppermint’s crate. The volunteer asked if I wanted to hold her. I lifted her out of the crate and she snuggled right up to me and put her little head in the crook of my neck. I held her for about 15 minutes and she just relaxed with me. Mike asked what I wanted to do and I told him that I didn’t know. I didn’t think I was ready. He suggested that we do some shopping at the store in the same shopping center to see how I felt. We did that and decided to go home. The event was Saturday and Sunday so I told him that we could always come back the next day.

The rescue place took pictures of each dog that was adopted with their new family and posted them on their page. I found myself looking all night to see if she had been adopted. Her picture never showed up. We woke up the next day and went to church. After the service, the first thing I did was check FB to see if she showed up. She did not. Mike asked again what I wanted to do and I was so torn. I decided to go down and see if she was still there and thought maybe we could take her outside and play with her a bit. I texted the kids to see if they wanted to meet her. Even though they don’t live at home she would still be a part of our family. Kyle was taking his boyfriend to the airport and couldn’t make it, but McKensie came.

We played with her for about 40 minutes outside. She loved being out of the crate. She bounced around not really sure how to walk on a leash. She is all ears and legs so she looked a bit like a moose jumping around. We had one of the volunteers with us and Peppermint kept going up to her and flopping in her lap. The lady was amazed at how quickly she had bonded with her given that she had just met her the day before.

After we played, we took her back into the store and put her back in the crate. I stood there for about an hour trying to decide what to do. There were tears. My heart was torn because I didn’t think I was ready, but at the same time I didn’t like the thought of her not getting adopted and having to go back to a shelter. When she saw the volunteer that she had bonded with giving water to some of the dogs, Peppermint started whimpering when she saw her. That did me in. I couldn’t stand the fact that she would be taken away from her, but to a shelter and not a loving home. So…I decided to take her home. Honestly, I’m surprised that they let her leave with us because it was clear I was really struggling.

She was terrified of the car ride home. She had been driven from Texas for the event and I don’t think she ever wanted to see a car again. She had a rough few nights once home, but she has settled in and is showing her “true colors” aka puppy wildness. She even had her first vacation last week as we took her on our annual OBX trip. Having her has not taken one bit of my sadness away over losing Lucy. Like I mentioned the tears still come every day. What having her has done is given me something to focus on, but more importantly another fur baby to pour my love into.

I have had so much support from my friends through this journey. Many of them that I have met through the groups I’m in for moms of LGBTQ+ children. Having a gay kid has blessed me in so many ways that I never imagined. One of these friends sent me a book that helped her when she lost her beloved dog. It is from the perspective of the dog that is dying. It’s called, The Last Will and Testament of an Extremely Distinguished Dog by Eugene O’Neill. I must have read it 20 times. This book was very helpful.

This part was especially helpful to me:

The dog mentions that he heard his owners say that when he dies they must never get another dog because they loved him so much and they could never love another. He asks because of their love of him, to have another. He says that it would be a poor tribute to his memory to never have another. In fact, he hopes that he brought his owners so much love and joy that they couldn’t live without another. He does mention that the new dog will never be as distinguished as him, of course, and they shouldn’t use that against him. (smile)

The last page of the book gets me every time I read it, but again gives me comfort. And that last page reads:

“No matter how deep my sleep, I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.” (tears)

Lucy will always be my very best girl. And Pepper (we shortened her shelter name) will be her very own girl with her own personality and we will bond in our own special way. It’s already happening…

So here is our Pepper girl. Like I said she is all ears and legs. Sometimes she looks like a bat…sometimes a gremlin…sometimes a puppy. She has a tuft of hair that sticks up sometimes and she has a bit of an underbite. All things that add to her cuteness…in this mom’s opinion anyway. She is trying to learn all the puppy things (Benry is hoping that she speeds that part up). She makes me laugh every day.

There’s lots of love to give…and love matters even for our furry friends.