suicide

I’ve had the radish…

/ Lesa / 16 Comments

When my family planned a trip to New England a few years ago, my friend from Vermont taught me a few of the sayings that are from there.  Her family was traveling with us so it was really fun to have our very own tour guide.  We visited Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine both times that we vacationed together up there.  The saying, “I’ve had the radish” was the funniest to me.  I mean…what do New Englanders have against radishes (smile).  She explained to me that when her mom was at her wit’s end with her and her brothers she would let them know that she’d had the radish.  They knew then that they better settle down or they were going to get it.  They would also say it when something was worn out or ready for the trash.  Pretty funny, but then again being from Baltimore has its own little world of sayings as well.

This is how I’m feeling right now…I’ve had the radish.  I’m wondering seriously if this is even real life.  Am I living in one of my crazy dreams?  It feels like it.  My chest physically hurts, and the only thing that keeps going through my mind is what breaks God’s heart is breaking mine.

broken-heart-with-hammer

A young man who I met about a little over a year ago took his life yesterday.  I remember hearing his story.  I remember sitting with his mom as she tearfully told my group that her church refused to baptize her son.  How distraught she and her husband and her son were about that….rightfully so.  I can’t get his face out of my mind.  His shy demeanor, his intelligence, his compassion.  The church was going to meet with them to discuss this with them further.  After many attempts to do so…and simply just being blown off…I guess they waited too long.  I wonder if these leaders will sit down with this family now.  (he suffered from depression, but I promise you the church’s response did not help)

The church and their statements…their policies…I wonder as they sit in their meetings if they consider the consequences of their decisions.  Do they know any LGBTQ people?  Have they learned their stories?  Asked what they needed?  I am often asked, “Why don’t the LGBTQ people who aren’t happy with their churches find an affirming church?”  The answer is simple…in many areas of our country…there aren’t any affirming churches.  There are the churches that will say they are welcoming, but they don’t have anyone LGBTQ attending.  If you were truly a welcoming congregation, you would have them attending because they would know that you were welcoming.  In many cases, churches tolerate the LGBTQ community and then pat themselves on the back that they let them attend.

The Mormon church recently introduced a policy in November regarding the LGBT community.  Since then there have been 32 LGBTQ suicides in the last 81 days.  Let that sink in…  While it’s impossible to know whether the new policy triggered the reaction of these suicides, the circumstantial evidence can’t be ignored.  The church was asked about this and they replied, “they do not reject LGBT members.” Really?  Have you asked them how they feel about your new policy? Clearly there is a disconnect.

I gotta be honest.  I feel sick…I feel hopeless…and I feel helpless.  It makes me want to have NOTHING to do with the church.  I know that’s harsh.  I know there is a good possibility that we all may never agree, but making people feel as if they are unworthy of love…thrown away…is not how we should handle that disagreement.

If you have a conversation with someone about God, Christianity, the Gospel…whatever the topic regarding faith…and they leave feeling less than, unloved, belittled, etc…you are DOING IT WRONG.  As Christians we are to bear good fruit. What kind of fruit are you bearing?  How many lives must we lose?

For now I will remind myself of Isaiah 61:1-3

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion– to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.

beauty-from-ashes

Lord bring us beauty from ashes.  Love each other…love matters…and how we love matters even more.

 

 

 

The face of courage…

/ Lesa / 17 Comments

In the weeks following speaking at church, people have been telling me that I am brave…that it took a lot of courage to do what I did.  I appreciate their kind words.  It would have been much harder to get up there if I didn’t have so many people praying for me.  I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true.  I really felt like Jesus was sitting on that stage with me.  It gave me the strength to share what I did.  The harder part for me has been the aftermath.  I knew it would be difficult…living in the tension of wondering what people are thinking of me.  The tension of worrying about people being upset and possibly leaving my church…just for having the conversation.  I know that discussions are taking place, but I don’t know the content of those discussions.  I knew all of this going into that Sunday morning, but courage doesn’t mean things will be easy.

Courage looks different depending on the circumstances:

The little girl who is afraid of water, but trusts her dad and leaps into the pool into his arms…has courage.

The little boy who rides his bike without the training wheels for the first time…has courage.

The child who raises their hand in class to answer a question…has courage.

The parent who teaches their child how to drive…has courage…can I get an AMEN (smile).

The recovering addict who swings their legs over the edge of their bed in the morning and faces the day sober…has courage.

The soldier who defends our country…has courage.

The family who waits for their soldier to come home…has courage.

There are many courageous things that people do every day.

I didn’t want to write about this topic.  I felt there had already been a plethora of discussion about it already.  You would have to be living under a rock to not have heard all the verbiage about Caitlyn Jenner recently. Especially when she received the Arthur Ashe award for courage.  Many were up in arms about her receiving such an award.  I like the saying…’Comparison is the thief of joy,’ but I think comparison is the thief of a lot of things.  I don’t think anyone has the right to tell someone they aren’t courageous just because their courage looks different then someone else’s. My guess is that the people who had a problem with her getting the award have never known a transgender person…or the parent of a transgender person. They’ve never buried a transgender child or held vigils at a hospital bed because someone tried to murder them. How would they know what any of them have gone through? How can they judge their courage?

I felt prompted to write about this when I first saw the courage comparisons that were being posted.  I ignored it.  Like I said…so many people had already written about it.  Unfortunately, I still see the jokes on FB about Caitlyn Jenner.  And I guess the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back…was my birthday.  On July 23rd, a transgender woman was murdered…the eleventh this year.  She was 66 years old and was stabbed to death…left for dead in the street.  So you see, the meme’s that you post on FB about Caitlyn Jenner and others make a difference…in a bad way.  They contribute to the misunderstanding of other human lives.  They portray that person themselves as a joke…and I think that is dangerous.

So whether you agree with the person or not…think about what you post.  Think about who may see that post.  The suicide rate among transgender teens is staggering.  Please don’t contribute to their pain.  Think of what it might be like to walk in their shoes…

 

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Love each other because love matters…but how we love matters even more.

 

Sacred moments…

/ Lesa / 8 Comments

It’s finally a nice enough evening to sit on my deck to write.  It’s been a while because there has been tons going on.  Good stuff, hard stuff, meaningful stuff.  It got me to thinking about the sacred moments that God gifts us with when we slow down long enough to pay attention.  I think they happen more often than we realize…I mean God is omnipresent so how could they not.  Right?  Some of those moments though are so big that they can’t be missed.  I had two such moments like that recently…

The first being a weekend away.  Seems normal enough…but this was not your average get away.  It was two days spent with the most amazing women I am lucky enough to know.  A group of kindred spirits who for many met for the very first time…myself included.  It took place in North Carolina and was about a five and a half hour drive from my home.  But really I would have driven 20 hours to meet these women.

I’m part of a private Facebook group of moms with LGBTQ kids.  When I joined sixteen months ago, I was number seventy-eight…now we are over five hundred strong (smile).  The group is a safe place to go with questions, hurts, fears, victories… We support each other via cyberspace and we are located all over the United States and other parts of the world.  We share a common goal…to love our kids unconditionally.  The group is a remarkable place for resources and has been a life-saver to many.

As remarkable as it is to be a part of this group on the internet, it is even more meaningfull to get to meet a mom face-to-face. I’ve had the opportunity to do that with some of the moms that live closer to me and I’ve made incredible, life-long friends. But on this particular weekend, I got to meet twenty-five of these amazing moms (there were twenty-seven of us, but I had already met two of the moms in person).  We got to break bread together, cry together, laugh together, and share our powerful stories about our kids and the path that they’ve put us on and the journey that God has brought us through.  Each person’s story has a piece of our own…different…but the same.  And when the pieces all come together…fitting intricately each intertwined with the other…you get the perfect picture of God’s abiding love.

Me and Justin

Me and Justin

On Saturday, we had two special guests join us for breakfast.  Justin Lee, executive director of the Gay Christian Network, and the author of Torn:  Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays vs. Christians Debate, and John Pavlovitz, pastor and blogger who shepherds another private FB group of moms of LGBTQ kids where I am also a member.  It was lovely meeting them and I especially enjoyed my time chatting with Justin letting him know how much his book changed my family’s journey.  He is gracious and humble and it meant so much to me to let him know that his heart shined through his book and is making a difference.

Overall, it was an amazing weekend.  This group of women and all of the women who couldn’t be there are some of the strongest and courageous women I know.  We refer to ourselves as the Mama Bears because we fiercely love our children and will go to great lengths to protect them.  We have a mom in our group who is a graphic artist and she came up with the graphic below for us.  (If you are a mama or papa bear, or even a grandma bear and would like to visit her shop you can do so here.)  We could be our true selves without any fear of judgement.  We didn’t have to worry about what we said or how we said it because we knew our hearts were safe with each other.  It was an incredible, God-filled, sacred moment.  The timing of this weekend was a huge blessing to me as it led into my second sacred moment the following weekend.

Graphic design by Jennifer Stake White

Graphic design by Jennifer Stake White

If you ask anyone who knows me well how I feel about public speaking, they would tell you I would rather eat dirt then to do so.  I’m not a fan of being in the “spotlight.”  I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of girl.  So when my pastor asked if I would speak about my journey in front of our congregation I said yes with some fear and trembling.  I don’t like to speak in public, but more importantly, this had the potential of ruffling some feathers (to put it mildly).  The LAST thing I ever would want is for something I did to hurt my church.  I took it very seriously and honestly put a lot of pressure on myself.  The series that my pastor is currently doing is on Ephesians and this particular Sunday he talked about Paul standing in the gap for the Jews and Gentiles.  He felt that my journey of standing in the gap for gays and Christians would be a good modern-day example.  I didn’t hesitate to say yes because God had already been whispering in my ear that I would one day speak about this. Part of me hopes that this is all God was referring to (smile), but I’m not so sure about that.  Yikes!

So why was this a sacred moment?  I’m not going to tell you what I said because I’m going to include the link so you can listen for yourself if you like.  It was sacred because God was present.  I had weeks to think about what I was going to say.  I had conversations with my pastor asking if particular things that are part of my journey were ok to discuss.  But how do you sum up an eight year journey on a Sunday morning when SO much has happened?  You let the Holy Spirit take over (smile).  I let go…I told God that this is the journey You’ve taken me on…You tell the story the way You want it to be told.  And He showed up…in a BIG way.

I woke up that morning shaking so badly from nerves that I could hardly get my the toothpaste on my toothbrush.  I knew I had lots of people praying for me and took a moment to zone in on those prayers.  I had an incredible sense of peace come over me.  So much so, that I had to remind myself while sitting in the pew waiting for my turn that I was actually about to get up there and speak (smile).  I got up there and shared my journey.  I survived!  The response I’ve gotten has been overwhelming now that the message is on the internet.  I can barely keep up with the comments I’ve received and I’m humbled to be used in such a way by God.  It was a sacred moment…one that I hope you will take a moment (well a long moment – smile) to listen to:

Standing in the Gap  – I come in around the 20 minute mark.  I have this in written form as well.

 

sacred moments

Love matters…but how we love matters even more.

Do you speak love fluently?…

/ Lesa / 13 Comments

I realized in high school that I did not have a knack for learning a foreign language.  I was required to take two years of a language that was not my own in order to graduate.  I decided to take French.  I quickly learned that I did not have the patience it was going to take to master this language.  I wanted to be able to have normal conversations.  Unfortunately, the curriculum was not set up that way.  I was taught individual words, but the teacher focused more on phrases.  Things I would need to know if I traveled to France like…  “My name is…, What time is it…I would like _____ to eat, Where is the rest room?” I found this very boring.  I managed to make it through the first year, but if I don’t use something, I loose it, and I did not use the French I learned over the summer.  I mean…who was I going to talk to?  And what if I wanted to say something other than the phrases I had learned?

Year two came along and I realized I was in big trouble the first day of French II class.  The teacher was not speaking English at all.  I had no idea what she was saying.  Honestly I think this was really unfair…shouldn’t this be saved for French III?  I guess she figured it was the best way for us to “catch on.”  I was totally lost.  I was sitting at my desk one day with a bad headache.  I guess my teacher could tell something was wrong so she asked me something in French.  I thought she asked if I had a headache so I responded “Oui – yes.”  She responded in English, “I should fail you for that.”  Uh oh.  “Why?” I asked. “Because I asked you if you were bored and you said YES!”  oops. (smile).

Unfortunately, today there is another language that many do not understand.  It’s the language of love.  I have learned over this last year that people do the cruelest things in the name of love.  The results of this misuse of love, or lack of love, are tragic.  If Jesus’ greatest command to us is to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves (Matthew 22:36-40), don’t you think we should learn how to love better??

…Especially as Christians…

…sadly we are failing.

There have been 5 suicides of LGBT youth in the last 15 days.  In addition, there was one suicide attempt, and one close call (someone found a note and was able to stop the person in time).  And these are just the ones I know about.  I’m sure, unfortunately, there were others.  The unnerving part of all of this to me is that these kids report in suicide notes that they are leaving this world because of the rejection they feel from their families and from the church. This makes my heart hurt more than I can even put into words. At times I find it hard to even catch my breath at the thought of it.  I’ve been grieving these last two weeks for these young souls who felt life was too hard to endure.

Where is the love that Jesus speaks of?

Despite the bullying, discrimination, and hate that they experience, the LGBT people that I have met are some of the most loving people that I know.  Their ability to forgive and love the people who hurt them the most amazes me.  We could all learn something from them.

Do you know how to truly love?  Could you make improvements?  Is there more you could learn?

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Love matters…but how we love matters even more.  Learn how to love fluently…

One of these things is not like the other…

/ Lesa / 6 Comments

Disclaimer:  I got permission to share what is in this post.

I was awakened by the telephone ringing.  I opened one eye and looked at the clock.  4am.  I knew who it is was, or so I thought.  There was only one person that would be calling me in the middle of the night…my sister.  I picked up the phone and said hello dreading what I was going to hear from the other end.  I had been here many times before.  A male voice asked if I was Lesa Schepers.  My heart quickened as it was not who I expected.  “Mrs. Schepers, I’m officer ____ and I am here with your sister.  We need you to come to your parent’s house.”

The police officer explained that my sister called 911 and was threatening to take her life.  He said that she was drunk.  They confiscated all of the alcohol that was in the house and told me that I needed to come get her.  It was New Year’s Eve a year after my mom died and my dad wasn’t home.  I told them I was on my way.  I hung up the phone and explained to my husband what was going on.  He was not happy that I would be traveling an hour in the middle of the night…especially a night that there was a high incidence of drunk driving.  At the time, I didn’t realize I could say no to the officer.  I thought I had to go.  So I left my two babies, aged 4 and almost 3, my angry husband, and I drove to my parent’s house.

To say that my sister was drunk was an understatement.  When the police officers left her (they did not wait for me to get there), she proceeded to drink all of the cough medicine that was in the house.  I got there at 5:30am and after chatting with her for about an hour I decided that I would try to get her into rehab.  I brought her to my house where I could do some research with her insurance company and they found a place near my house.  It was approaching evening by the time we got there and she had not completely sobered up yet.

We walked into the facility and they took her into a room to chat with her and go over her insurance.  I was sitting in the lobby when suddenly a very angry young woman (a resident at the rehab) came up to the Christmas tree, knocked it over, and stomped on every glass ornament that was on the tree breaking them.  She was upset that she wasn’t going home for a visit that she felt she should be allowed to do.  I sat there contemplating if I was doing the right thing.  I felt guilty…wondering if my mom would agree with me pushing my sister to do this.  I had always been my sister’s protector and this place didn’t seem very safe so far.  Someone from the office came out and escorted me to another room so that they could clean up the mess.  In that room, residents were sneaking back into the facility through the window. Needless to say, it was quite the adventure.  I was definitely rethinking this particular place for my sister.  Turns out her insurance wouldn’t pay for the stay after all and I left bringing her with me.

I would like to say that things got better after that, but sadly they got much worse.

So why do I bring this up?  I’ve heard it mentioned many times from Christians that they believe being gay is like being an alcoholic.  I don’t quite understand that logic.  Alcoholism is a disease.  A person’s sexuality is not a disease.  A person can choose to take a drink, but a gay person can’t choose their sexuality.  Not like the otherAlcoholism destroys lives.  I’ve seen it first hand.  I’ve shared this story because I have been in the trenches of addiction with someone.  It is ugly and it ravages lives.  It makes the person addicted very selfish.  Their alcoholism can also be destructive to their family and anyone who loves them.  A person who is an alcoholic eventually learns that the alcohol is their enemy.  If they take the steps to stop drinking, their lives change for the better. They are able to bear good fruit. Asking someone who is gay to give up their sexuality does the opposite of what happens when an alcoholic stops drinking. It causes them to hate their sexuality and since sexuality is a part of who they are…they end up hating themselves.  This often causes depression and unfortunately thoughts of suicide for many.  It’s a very different picture from a recovering alcoholic.  I guess some would argue that a gay person accepting their sexuality and acting on it causes destruction in their lives, but that is a conversation for another time (smile).

Remember to love each other…because love matters.