Reap What You Sow

      I just recently had a family member very bitterly respond to my lamenting of a strained relationship with another beloved family member with, "Ya reap what you sow", and then walk away from me.   It took every ounce of control not to yell at this person, "If that's the case get in fights, people would have cheated on you multiple times as you were growing into a real adult, and used your body repeatedly for self-gratification over and over.  You would have people be demeaning to you at times and be utterly disrespectful just because anger seethes".  Praise God, I held my tongue.
       I should state that the family member who "so kindly" told me I reap what I sow, is actually a rather outstanding person with a lot of character and integrity.  We all have our bad moments.  All this arose out of me cutting ties with a close blood relative.  I cut these ties out of serious ethical disagreements.  At the time I allowed my anger and hurt to dictate my tongue and instead of cutting ties in a "classy" way, I went out in a blaze of bitchiness, poured salt into the disconnect wound, and then basically set it all on fire.
        Sometimes in life we don't get re-do's.  I tend to always leave the door open to everyone for a re-do chance; not everyone functions that way.  I can't say I blame them.  Hell, I wish I could shut the door to some for eternity but despite some solid efforts, I'm just not hot-wired that way.  For some, the hurt is so much that try as we may, we cannot physically get their door to open back up.  I attempted a re-do with this relative that I figuratively set ablaze with my bitchiness; the door is closed.
        As I was left to my thoughts after the "ya reap what you sow" statement, I was left to my thoughts and sadness.  I don't think embittered we should carry a philosophy of reaping what we sow.  Imagine how sick and depraved we would all be and the twisted shit we would go through for the entirety of life we all truly reaped what we sowed?! I think we all need to lay in the bed we make at times. It's about taking responsibility; not living in a constant state of punishment for our transgressions. The truth is some things cannot be un-done.  Sometimes we have to wrestle with the moments when we lost control and did or said something regrettable.  The wrestling teaches us how to proceed.  My family member that I set ablaze with hurt was in the state and visited with other family members; my presence wasn't desired by said individual.  Does hurt and anger always deserve hurt and anger in return? Reap what you sow?  Nawe.  We are called to a much higher level of compassion and love with each other than that.  Is it my bed to lay in right now? Yeah.
       My challenge to anyone reading this is to not look at our brothers and sisters with a spirit of reap what you sow but rather one of grace and forgiveness.  This doesn't mean that what has happened is okay, but it does mean we can be bigger and God IS bigger than our hurt and blunders.  Allow God to be bigger than our faults. Choosing compassion and love can sometimes pull us outside of our ourselves.  Accept the bigger.  Live the better.

Matthew 6:9-13

9 “This, then, is how you should pray:

“‘Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
10 your kingdom come,
your will be done,
    on earth as it is in heaven.
11 Give us today our daily bread.
12 And forgive us our debts,
    as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation,[a]
    but deliver us from the evil one.

Lesbian Bearing a Cross

         When I was 21 my first girlfriend landed in my lap.  I had dated guys long-term up until that point.  If ever a gay thought had come into my head before then, I would push it out just as quickly as it arrived and in my head, for all purposes, it never existed.  When I was 21 and finding myself expressing deep "friendship" feelings towards my female friend, I was a Religion major at a Reformed Church of America affiliated college; Hope College.  My beloved, adored college was filled with believers that were raised to believe homosexuality was a sin.  Professors wouldn't dare speak anything different unless they were tenured and even then, they did so timidly.  After all, Hope is a private college and a lot of funding comes from Alum who adore Doc Dobson and Focusing on His Family of preservers of the sanctity of marriage and procreation.  If Hope doesn't Focus on THAT Family, funding gets pulled.
          When my first girlfriend Michelle and I started to acknowledge our romantic love and act on it there was a prevailing thought that we were just gay for each other.  After all, she had never thought about being with a woman before me and neither had I...really.  I enjoyed my intimate relationships with guys and therefore had no reason to think that I had some special affinity women.  During our time together as a couple I was a senior in my RELIGION major at Hope.  I had every intention of heading into the ministry prior to this beautiful thing that landed in my lap.  I researched Divinity Schools and even visited one in New Jersey to see if it appealed to me.  I spent my undergrad praying with my friends, having countless late nights of deep, philosophical, theological, conversations with my devout, deeply loved peers.
            Coming out to my "brothers and sisters" in Christ was terrifying.  Rejection was real.  I was a prayerful, charismatic, leader in the church and with my friends.  How could Jess Robinson be gay and be close to God?! It's unthinkable isn't it?! And my beloved friends and sisters and brothers in Christ treated me that way.  I was no longer the believer that had a tuned ear towards God.  I was lost and gay. During this time of thinking I was just Michelle gay, I was unapologetic for who I was.  I wasn't a freedom fighter or someone who shoved my relationship in anyones face.  I did, however, disagree with my peers who "prayed for my soul".  I always had a sense that God loved me and formed me just the way I was.  At this time, in my pain and rejection, I felt no matter what the definition of my sexuality was, that my "deviation" was somehow my cross to bear.
             People have always known me.  I've been transparent and very sociable. I've always been likable. I'm caring and put others first (to my own detriment at times).  But this happened and overnight I was asked to step down from my youth leadership position, my Christian friends pulled back from me, my beloved parents argued with my identity for several years, and with a 50 foot pole, church members and friends prayed for me to see the way.  My cross to bear. 
           I'm almost 11 years into this "deviant" way of being true to myself.  I've been out of the closet since 3 months after my first girlfriend fell in my lap.  I've not hidden nor desire to hide.  If you don't have to live in shame for being straight, why should I? I've met my friends oppositions and fears.  I've lost friends.  I've had friends keep a safe distance.  I've had family members leave me.  I've had churches close the doors to me.   There are so many hardships that come along with what people label a "lifestyle".  It is not chosen.  I am not a champion and do not desire to conquer the ill advised thoughts of those that still want to pray for my sexuality.  I just simply want to exist, as I was up until I was 21; Jess Robinson.  That's all that I am; me.  Other people can fight the legal system.  Other people can champion the fight for such a stupid word as INCLUSION in the church.  (I shouldn't have to find an inclusive church.  Jesus didn't have a checklist...why do we?!)
          I just interviewed at a fine Christian institution that I would I practically give my left arm to work at.  I interviewed for a position in their ministry department.  I've got the passion, the knowledge, the love, the experience, and God but fear I'll be ushered into the closet with a gold carpet (as not to offend me) if I get the job.  I spent only 3 months in the closet;  I can't and won't go back.  Every time I've told God I don't want to do something, He has called me to otherwise.  My cross to bear. 
           Since moving back to Michigan I've only attended my home church 3 times because it's a Reformed Church of America/ Christian Reformed Church split.  AKA leave the gay at the door.  I've attended an Episcopal church once; not my flavor. I fantasized about rolling my eye ball down the isle during the homily and imagining peoples reactions. I've tried being Catholic a handful of times; a fantasized about sword fighting with an umbrella at the last mass I attended.  (Don't judge me for where my mind wandered.)  The point is, my heart is with the RCA/CRC churches.  Sadly, they are not with me.  So, I've been a solo artist.  I spend my spiritual time alone.  I sure do miss the community that comes with church though and the insight that comes from Bible studies and sermons.
            Jesus hung on a cross for you and me.  He carried the cross of which he was to be hanged on through the streets and was accosted by disbelievers.  He was accosted by people like you and me.  I carried my cross through my senior year of college and dropped it afterwards because the weight was too heavy. I just wanted to live as comfortably as possible; just be me. But I am not just me.  I will never be just me.  I am a part of a marginalized, beloved, population that Jesus loves nor calls us out of.   Perhaps we all have our crosses to bear for the good of the Kingdom.  A cross can't be light and the plight of travel is never easy.  God calls us to get out of the boat.  God never listens to my ideas that don't require courage or trust.  I think it's time for me to pick up my cross that I dropped so long ago and bear it.