Exercising My Voice

I have been stuck in a mental state that is immature compared to my chronological age.  I guess we all can have those moments, but the reality is, there are some people who, when it comes to responsibility, it is perspicuously evident.  I am such a person.  I think I’m doing well by trying to think of others, excuse myself from being an intrusion, and will default to others’ opinions and may refrain from challenging a perspective, as to keep the peace.  Frankly, it comes from a place of insecurity, because if I did feel safe, I would mention something.  I may ask for my needs.     But I do not.  Because I have believed since a child that the good Christian thing to do is to put others above myself.  And that has been demonstrated to the extreme.  I take care of my own stuff.  And if other peoples’ behavior affects my own, then I will adjust by moving on by myself.  I wouldn’t want to start a rift by saying I need someone to change their schedule or perspective, because…well, wouldn’t that be prideful?  Plus, shouldn’t I accommodate others; isn’t that the gracious thing to do?     Nevertheless, with all the silent moving around, I become increasingly perplexed when my needs go without.  My frustration grows when my boundaries are pushed.  And if I was completely honest, perhaps I have lived passively for so long, I now no longer have boundaries in certain areas.  That is scary to admit.  I thought I was doing the loving thing by just letting things go.  But I continue to get hurt.  And ironically, when it was suggested to me that I should be the one to speak up when I have a need, I huffed to myself.  “Why should I be the one to speak up?  Here I am leaning into relationships and trying to understand and love others, and I am the one who has to continue reaching out?!  Why can’t somebody else reach out to me?  Why can’t somebody else be intuitive about my needs?”     But these questions don’t get me anywhere but angry and regressing from any growth that I gained over the course of this last year.  And it certainly shortens my ability to be proactive about the solution.  Yes, I believe that it is important for a mutual leaning in.  However, I am learning that requiring people to read my mind is an insufficient way to receive love.  Moreover, I will be more apt to revert to selfishness than if I kept aiming to love- and lean into- others.  I know I need to speak more.     This isn’t about demanding things.  But it is inviting someone to understand me, because otherwise, they may not.  I thought I was being merciful by letting myself move around other peoples’ blind spots.  Now, I am realizing that by not saying anything, yes, I am giving allowance, but I am also enabling the person to see their lack of how they may be negatively affecting me.  This is why it is so important to start exercising my voice.     I know that I have struggled to stand up for myself.  And I am seeing that my silence is sometimes extended in failing to speak up for others.  There is an instinctual desire, wishing someone could come to my defense.  And yet, the reality is, as an adult, I no longer have an excuse to stay quiet when something needs to be said.     I am now in the position of authority in my own life.  I am 100% responsible for how I choose to carry my life.  Including the possibility of my own family, I will be the one teaching my children how to address matters of discussion and conflict.  If I don’t get myself together, then my children will carry the same scars that I bear.  I must learn to speak my mind, when there is a need for it.  Even for the small things.  It doesn’t have to be a grievous offense.  It can be as simple as checking schedules.  Healthy relationships are vital.  Being intuitive to others’ needs is helpful, but I am learning that demanding others to be intuitive for my sake will only leave me frustrated.  So, to love, I need to share.  I need to speak.  In being assertive, I then practice being for the whole of the other person, and not just seeking my own aim. 

Worth the Pain

  There is something about having a shared struggle that can connect people in grief…and in joy.  Today, I subbed in a classroom with a student who lives with cerebral palsy.  And if there is any kind of person I can quickly notice in a crowded room, it’s those with CP.  It’s easy to notice those who have the same story.  Or something like it.  We spent fourth period together, and then lunch, and in the process of making jokes, sharing my experiences of living with a disability, and lastly, introducing some tricks that I have used over the years to gain independence, it finally hit me.  All the questions I have asked God - all the anger and confusion for feeling I was left out of His promises - was worth it.     Oh, how often I have begged God to just make my hand whole.  Just let me be able to open it without trouble.  Not let me have to worry about other complications.  “Why do I have to be the handicapped one of the group?”  But the truth is, I never was the handicapped one.  Yes, I live with a disability, but as anyone close to me knows…I made sure it didn’t stop me from doing the things I wanted (for better or worse).     And today, I was able to see that by sharing my tricks, I was able to encourage somebody else, who lives with the same disability, to walk in greater freedom than perhaps they have done before.  They are affirmed to not be defined by what they can or cannot do.  Even in the messes we made, there was laughter and joy brought to her face (oh, if you could have seen her smile) …because, by me willing to share my story, I showed her that it was possible to live a thriving and fulfilling life.         I have carried such a shame over the years, because of this “limp fist”.  Yet, in my adulthood, I find that it is now something that can be used to connect with others.  This thorn in my flesh has proven itself to be an inspiration of comfort and hope.  What a paradox!  How can something that brought so much pain to my soul result in bringing life to others?!  My goodness - what a concept!  The “unanswered” prayers were never lost…God has just seen that there was greater purpose to me walking through my pain, then if I went without. Maybe God’s timeline isn’t all jacked up.  Maybe He knows exactly what He’s doing.  My healing has never been just about me.  In my waiting, He’s weaving His glory into my life, and I’ve suddenly begun to see it.

I Am the Problem.

      Recently, I have been learning to let go of expectations I put on other people, for the sake of healing wounds that other people have caused me.  That's the admittance.  The suffering that has cycled in and around me is due to me.  Have I had emotional trauma?  On some level, yes.  Nevertheless, I have convinced myself that I cannot move forward unless someone else fills the hole that was left empty by someone else.  There is a wound, and perhaps I have to mourn the fact that this is my reality.  The person I needed growing up was unavailable in the way I needed them to be.  To this day, I could say I still have need for them; I have need for them to be in my life.  But that isn't my reality... I don't have a mother who can spiritually and emotionally carry me.  And it's been that way since my teen years, minimally.  (Wow...that's out there.)  And while I have been holding onto the pain of losing her, relationally, I subsequently demanded other female figures to become the mother I never had.  Something that really has no place being put on their shoulders.  Being without my own mother still hurts at times, especially when I'm reminded that other mothers invest in their daughters.  But in coming out of this victim mindset (which Taylor Swift's "Antihero" and NF's "Happy" songs address), I need to bring my lack to Jesus and ask Him to meet me where I am empty.

"Amen to Taylor and NF"

All this time, I thought
It was their fault...
Their wrong...Their responsibility
To make it right.
But no matter how many tears
I shed for the past,
Nothing changed
Save for the darkness 
Growing in my soul.
Demanding that history
Had to have a rewrite
To make all things right
In my life
Or else I mentally died
Every dusk the morning failed
To deliver the hope it promised.

But at some point, 
The sin that remains
In the room is my own.
I saw everyone else as an enemy,
But the only person present
Was a vision of me in a mirror.
My inward chaos is caused
By my insufficiency to be
Content with the book's story.
Failing to read the next chapter...

No.  I keep making each chapter
Read similar to the rest.
Yet, the Author keeps 
Introducing His love, asking
When will I rest in Him and forgive
Those who caused me pain?
Will I learn to admit my need
To the only One who can fill it?
Will I receive love from the One
Who can only love me 100% right?

Or will I continue to enjoy
This darkness that has secretly
Become my home?
Will I continue to rant
According to the faults of others,
While it is me who verbally spills
The blood of people's reputations?
Condemning my past has only led me
To damn my present,
Suffocating the future of any hope.
There is a problem.
And it's me.
To be happy,
I need to believe
Christ's work is sufficient
To know and behold a love
I once was starved,
But no longer
Am.

Taylor Swift, "Antihero"

NF, "Happy"

Kindred

A biological necessity that connects
Humanity between generations.
A bloodline that bridges into
The edges of the earth.
An association by name
And based on familiarity.

Maybe the expectations
Surpass reality.
Perhaps the desires
Undermine the actuality of life.
But I was taught Ohana;
No one gets left behind.
Nevertheless, entertainment is full of
Fiction - a form of escape;
Why should I be surprised
That my family doesn't look
Like the ones on screen?

Granted I have both of my parents.
Got a mom, and a dad 
Who stuck around too.
Got a name and was claimed -
A piece of paper proves it so.
But when grown and the tears flowed,
I was told to get over it soon.
Our faith, I was charged to hold
The banner of His praise.
Left to my own surmises,
A miracle I never became 
A tragic happening.
Now that I'm on my own,
How shall I be defined?

The intentions of my relationships
Are blurred between sincere and toxic.
Emotional lacerations left scars,
But I failed to take PT.
Now any person comes
And I pray that they can help me
Forget the past sins,
Or I withhold trust, knowing 
They could never carry me.
Never satisfied, always groping,
Wishing I could be loved
Like I should have been.
Who can be my family
When my family was no where 
To be reached?
But I'm 32 years old; what's the fuss?

Don't I know that not everyone
Will be in my inner circle?
An adult, wouldn't you think
I'd know by now to no longer 
Be a victim?
I'm alone, yet, but I got Jesus.
As a Christian,
That should be enough
Right?
...Right?

Acquaintances may be counted
But friends are limited.
Somehow, blood dictates intimacy.
So, when blood fails in its connection, 
How can my old be made new?
I know Jesus is the answer,
But could His answer for the orphan
Be a new company?
Even the Father wrote 
Adoption papers with an imbrued pen.

Twu Wuv

The irony behind the infamous quote is that the priest preached to a couple who were deleterious to loving one another.  Neither one of the pair cared for the other, as from a Christian’s perspective, like Jesus would indicate.  What is true love, anyway?  I mean beyond the confines of the romantic.  What does it mean to love somebody else?  Easily, I could quote 1 Corinthians 13 (the mainstay wedding passage), but the materiality of love usually is self-centered.     I wonder how selfish I am.  Regardless of biblical convictions, I am faced with my own pain.  My emotions and thoughts spur as a revolving door; almost as divided as a child who can’t make their mind about which candy is their favorite.  I am learning so much about how there are things I hold offenses due to my personal triggers.  It requires a perspective shift.  But then, there still remains lacerations upon my heart.  Although I intended to write sharing about how much I’ve learned to let go because in understanding someone else I cease to demand someone else meets my needs, I still am liable for grieving for needs unmet.     The lesson learned:  Not everything is about me.  A phrase articulated; I should know this by now.  But borne from rejection can wrought rejection even from the slightest of comments or intentions.  But to not be invited to some things doesn’t mean I am completely forgotten.  To not be chosen for a dinner doesn’t mean I’m not wanted, at all.     Okay, even while writing this, I see how in between the lines, my mind may know the truth, but my emotions relay that I’m only lying to myself.     The lesson - different people have different love languages, and so, I know I must learn how to interpret someone’s intention if it isn’t in the way I communicate best.  I may be a words of affirmation/quality time gal, but if someone shows love by hospitality, then evidence of a lack of love is not imminent.  The fact is that I just need to speak their language.  In speaking their language, then I can receive their love for me.     Another lesson - other people have different personalities and limits.  Maybe the people who have done something to hurt me do so, because they are at a point in their own emotional love tank where they need to fill up rather than pour out.  Perhaps it is the battle of introversion vs. extroversion.  Maybe reaching out in the way that I need is not even on their radar.     Again, reading between the lines, there is still a back-and-forth battle of “Really!  I’m okay,” to “I feel forgotten and I need to be explicitly included.”  I’m learning there are offenses borne from differing perspectives.  These are slight misunderstandings, and when we understand the context, we can forgive the infraction.  However, there are offenses based on sin.  These do need to be addressed as soon as possible, in an effort to reconcile the relationship.  Nevertheless, even when I understand someone’s limits or perspective, their actions still can hurt.     I feel stuck.  I want true love.  Friendship.  Someone to walk life with.  I know that this stems from feeling rejected growing up, which is why I wallow in confusion.  Because if the wound is from me, then is the offender actually in the wrong? (And if they haven’t done anything wrong, should I say something, as advised in Matthew 18?)  I have needs, but I won’t share them.  I guess experience has taught me it is better to hide.  To share my gifts equates to bragging. Sharing my desires and needs means I will become burdensome.  Sharing my hurts means I will offend.  And I will refuse to trust someone to care for me, because that would be selfish.  (Clarification, I am not saying these beliefs are biblical.  Just that they are seared into my consciousness since maturing.)     I’m quite honest.  Vulnerability?  Indubitably, not a strong suit.  I’m trying to get past this victim mindset that has plagued my emotions, but I’m not vulnerable, because I’ve learned to just take care of myself.  And it is so ingrained that I don’t know any other way.  And ironically, I can tell friends that it is easy to forgive when understanding another’s perspective, but I sit here mourning a lack of connection.  And I cannot pinpoint that someone has inevitably sinned against me.  So, what do I do?     I am confounded by who I am able to connect with, and those I fail to.  I don’t know if it’s a personality thing, or if I'm sending the wrong message (that I don’t want to be available).  Why are the people I’m drawn to have these overriding personal issues that, in relationship, fall into the codependency category? And God, please tell me WHY I seem to connect more with men than with women?!  (Seriously, it makes it hard to know what is okay to discuss, what’s not…how then, to navigate dating if all the friends are dudes…)  I can be so chill with the guys, but frankly, I’m not one of the boys.     Am I to settle for different friends at different seasons, never to have a close friend that can walk near no matter what?  It seems the “Christian” way to say that Jesus is all I need.  But - maybe this is a sin for admitting this - but He’s not.  At least, in the realm of having relationships.  I know I am built for Him and to connect with people.  So, why then, is it so dang hard?     Maybe the connection and defining relationships isn’t as detrimental as I think (even I have boundaries of who I want as friends vs. acquaintances).  Nevertheless, I do know when I’m not included.  And if there is a pattern of being left out, I will read a message between the lines - intentional or not.  “I am not wanted.  I am around, because they are putting up with me.”  What may be the risk?  How do I lean in?  Saying hello, asking about their day.  Maybe I could invite them to do something.  But if there is a phone, a book, or lack of reply - there is a wall.  I wish I could be part of something, a family.  But if I’m not invited, I won’t barricade the doors. 

Meme Generator

For Me?

I need You.
Peel the scales from my eyes.
Renew my mind,
For my sight
Profanes my judgment.
Heal this heart,
Cause it felt so much...
Enough to doubt Yours.

I know You are good,
But I need to know
You are good for me.
While I pray, 
I need to know
I'm not wasting in the waiting.
I don't need to believe
My words are falling on deaf ears,
Like a beggar to her King.
If You be my Father,
Then please answer.
Help me to be still
And know
You are all I need.

Praises ring loud
When testimonies are writ.
Your hand moves,
Then we sing.
But when life is full of ---
Well, You can guess
What was said, Your name
No longer a blessing.

I know You are just,
But I need to know 
I'm not left in the dark.
When I pray,
I need to know
I'm not abandoned,
Nor forced to stand
Beside myself.
Please give me evidence
I have hoped for; or at least
Reveal the alternative perspective:
In the quiet,
You are all I need.

If I knew
The depth of Your grace,
' Might be apt
To rest a while longer;
May forget the things I pondered
To prove the memory of Your glory.
Give me faith
To know who You are,
To trust Your heart even when
My eyes fail to see
Or my hands remain empty.
Show me that You have chosen
Me; to be still
And know
Your presence is what
I need the most.

     Over the course of this last year, I have learned to trust my heavenly Father more than I ever have.  The secret wounds are finally being buried.  Scars remain, but the poison from their pain is decreasing.  Nevertheless, there are still moments I find myself tempted to forget how much God loves me.  I am tempted to believe that God forgets me.  I am tempted that I have to do something in order for God to answer my prayers.  I wish I was better about seeking Him and truly worshipping Him, instead of throwing an emotional tantrum.  The fact of the matter is that often I resort to the same victim mindset that has plagued me for years and transfer the blame to the Creator of all things.  I don't fault God for the cause of my pain.  But I have blamed Him for not being the immediate resolve.  Immediate is the key word.  Because He still heals me.  He still moves in my life.  But it's just not on my timeline.
     I get discouraged that the Bible tells stories of people receiving an immediate answer, but my body somehow has to wade through time before the natural processes bring a full fruit.  Just today, I heard of a student who has nearly the same condition as I do.  I was told that she was able to get off her seizure meds and she stopped having auras (seizures where they zone out in space).  There was a twinge of disappointment that she received what I didn't.  Then when I heard that her seizures progressed to grand mal, and has required an implant to manage the seizure activity, reality sat in.  "God, please heal her."  
     I'm afraid that although I believe that God's gifts are for today, I'm increasingly becoming more cessationist in the way I pray for people.  "If it's Your will..."  Problem is that my focus is on the circumstance more than on God Himself.  I'm demanding that He works according to my plan, and any shift causes me anxiety in the least and frustration at most.  Truth is, taking a couple of sick days wouldn't bother me if I wasn't worried about how it takes me from working, being a presence at church, or being with family.  I easily can worship God when things can fit my schedule; but when they are completely counter, then I have a mental overhaul.  It's as if I have forgotten everything I really know about who God is and what He has done for me, and what He has promised to do in the future.  
     How could I be so foolish?  Is the only reason I worship Jesus for what He can do for me?  Is the end all what my earthly life amounts to?  Oh God, I'm so sorry!  Please forgive me for once again determining that You are worthy of my worship, only when things are going well.  I have fallen for some sort of prosperity gospel.  I have bought into the idea that if I truly have Your favor, then You would make things work for my benefit...now.  The truth is my faith still remains a selfish one, and I fail to sit in wonder of who You are.  God forgive me, and God change me.

Questions When You Came Out

My best friend and I were in youth group 
and went on a mission trip together.

Dear Old Friend,

    You were not just my friend.  You were one of my best friends.  In the time we spent together, we often spoke of our aspirations, dreams, as well as the prayers we had for our community.  Fast forward to the present, and much has changed.  It was only last Fall when we saw one another for the first time in 12 years.  It was too long to be silent.  Nevertheless, I understand why the hesitancy to speak.  If I was struggling with something as you had been, I think I may have hidden myself as well.
    Actually, I did hide.  Best friends, but I guess we both had our secrets.  And I wonder why neither of us felt safe enough to say something.  At least to each other.  I struggled with suicidal idealizations; you struggled with same-sex attractions.  I remember there was a moment that you hinted to it.  “I am attending the GSA to be a light to that community.”  When we were on a mission trip, you honed in on the outreaches to the LGBT+ youth.  I guess I should have figured it out.  But honestly?  Jesus loves people who struggle in those areas, so I never assumed you had struggled with it yourself.  I thought God just put a passion in your heart for those people.
    There are times people can pinpoint attributes or personalities that prove, as evidence, someone being gay.  Maybe I’m a little slow.  Maybe I need more forthwith communication, but in the years we shared, it never crossed my mind.  You were just my friend.  You had such a loving, carefree personality.  So creative, and a wonderful smile.  You were colorful, but I never took that as meaning you liked boys.  Is there such a thing as a “gay personality”?  The thought seems almost repulsive.  As if to say, when people act a certain way, that “must” mean they are not straight.
    But the truth is - you came out as gay soon after graduating high school.  I remember hearing it from my mom…who heard it from her best friend who has a tendency to gossip.  Golly, I wish I had heard it from you.  Why didn’t you come to me, yourself?  Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?  Why did you just cut me off for more than a decade?  However, I wondered if I would have judged you.  I probably wouldn’t have hated you.  But being a fix-it person, and a misstep in sexuality would have been something I probably would’ve started to brainstorm to assist with.  “If we just get this thing figured out, then you’ll be just fine.”
    From my observations, you feel fine, nonetheless.  If I shared this letter with you, Friend, you probably would say there is nothing to fix.  I realize that after time has written some of our chapters, we are found more likely to sit at opposite sides of the table, rather than next to one another.  Where once we found a bond in our love for Jesus, I wonder if the same could be said now.
    I know that we now disagree on whether acting on same-sex attraction is a sin or not.  But I bet it is disheartening to see how Christians are so quick to want to fix this particular sin but fail to address other infractions of God’s Word.  If homosexuality is such a big deal, then why isn’t adultery, or pride, or gossip, or hatred?  Sometimes the way Christians talk about “heathens”, one would wonder if we really believe that Jesus loves them and has truly extended His grace towards them. 
    Worse, many Christians have treated those a part of the LGBT+ community as if they were blanket projects.  Maybe I am guilty of this.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry. We demand you to repent of your sin, without seeing your humanity.  We are bent on debating theology without asking for your story.  And if I ever communicated this attitude when we were teenagers, I am so sorry.  I don’t know if I would have been willing to ask the questions that needed to be asked.  And I write this letter in a blog - but it may not ever be shared - because though I want to communicate my care and love that never ceased - I don’t know if it would lay open wounds you already tried to forget.  “Let’s agree to disagree and move on.”  But I don’t know if I can truly move on.  Because when you came out, suddenly I had questions. 
    What is your story, my dear friend?  When did you start having same-sex attractions?  Did you go to anyone in the church?  If you did, what was their response?  Did you try to talk to me, and did I give off an air that I was unwilling to listen? 
    I know that many statistics show those who are gay more likely were abused.  But I also know that isn’t 100% true.  Sometimes, people have these feelings only because they have had them (i.e., not really any other explanation as to why).  Old school way of the church dealing with things was either confronting it or not talking about it at all.  If we don’t mention it, then they are likely to not deal with the topic.  Somehow, I can bet that you could reprove that quite quickly.  Maybe you knew about my fix-it personality.  Maybe you figured - and perhaps correctly - that if you tried telling me your story that I would have tried to fix you. 
    When all you really needed was a friend to listen, and to love you, nonetheless.  And you might be disappointed to hear that I still fall for the idea “If he was just straight, then things would turn out.”  As if your sexuality is the most important thing about you.  I’m sorry for being so fixated on one attribute of your life.  Even if we agreed that homosexuality is a sin, would I be willing to address the questions of loneliness and love that are so often asked?  Would I demand that you HAVE to be celibate with no reward in life?  Or if you just got with a woman, then that would fix all your problems.
    Yeah, right. 
    I think I am realizing that this isn't how it works.  And homosexuality isn’t the unforgivable sin.  And even if you became straight, it isn’t like it fixes all other problems.  Just because I stopped wishing for death doesn’t mean I didn’t have other sins I needed to work through.  I’m sorry that we, as Christians, have made sexuality the entrance test for accepting the grace afforded for us by Jesus.  I am sorry that we can so often look down on those in the LGBT+ community, regarding their lives as too dirty to love.  I’m sorry we have become Pharisees in the modern age.
    I wish we were willing to tell you that Jesus loves you.  No matter what.  Jesus died for all of you.  And it wasn’t just to address one aspect of your lives.  At this moment, I wonder if many would argue that sexuality isn’t even something to fix.  This can get into another discussion, one perhaps done in person…but I will say this.  Whatever changes occur in your life, it is because of Jesus; it will be Him doing the work, not any other person. 
    I am done trying to fix you.  I just want you to know that I love you.  That never stopped even when we failed to speak.  Jesus loves you.  I don’t know if you still speak with Him or put your faith in Him.  Maybe you have totally given up on Jesus.  Maybe He’s your Savior, or He is just a profound teacher to you.  No matter how you think of Him, He loves you and wants a relationship with you.  Again, I apologize for how the church has communicated in one way or another that you would have to change before God accepts you.  But whatever transformation is to take place in your life will never be done on your own efforts, or another adjacent human being.  It can only be made manifest by the power of the Holy Spirit. 
    I hope someday, you feel welcome coming home.  And I pray that we (the church) would celebrate the sight of your face instead of waiting for you to comply with our demands.  For if we demand you to change your sexuality before accepting Jesus’ grace, then we better expect of ourselves to change our habits before crying out to Him to be our Savior.  But that would defeat the purpose of Him earning our salvation, wouldn’t it? 
    I will admit, coming to Jesus, you may have to wrestle again.  You will be forced to face the questions of your sexuality.  But so have I for any sexual temptations I have had.  The reason I am discussing the sexuality component in depth, now, is because - from what I have seen - sexuality has become a source of identity.  Frankly, all of us hold onto something that we define ourselves by.  I know that I have defined myself by my disability, my childhood wounds.  I have said, “I will not move forward until….” this person changes, or my circumstances progress.  In my walk with Jesus, there are some things He has told me to let go and trust.  It has been scary, but He is also showing me that He isn’t leaving my side.  It won’t be easy, and after so many years of achieving a victory in standing on your own ground, for me to suggest laying it all down may come across as an insult.  I do not mean to offend.  And if you choose to come back home, I promise I’ll be there.
    I cannot promise I will fully understand.  I may say things that rub the wrong way.  I admit I have a bias.  But never will I hate you.  And though I may be ignorant, I hope I am not arrogant.  I guess it has taken me a bit of time to write all of this, but in summation it comes down to this:  I miss you, brother.  And I wish only God’s best for you.  In the words of Dolly Parton*,

If I should stay,
I would only be in your way.
So, I’ll go, but I know
I will think of you each step of the way.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.

Bittersweet memories
That’s all I’m taking with me.
Goodbye, please don’t cry.
We both know that I’m not what you need.

I hope life treats you kind.
And I hope you have all
That you dreamed of.
And I wish you joy and happiness,
But above all, I wish you love.

Sincerely,
Laura Emily

*Dolly Parton – I will always love you lyrics | genius lyrics. (n.d.). Retrieved March 8, 2023, from https://genius.com/Dolly-parton-i-will-always-love-you-lyrics 

** A great resource on the topic of the Church and understanding the LGBT community: Sprinkle, P. M. (2016). People to be loved: Why homosexuality is not just an issue. Zondervan.