let's talk about virginity

*DISCLAIMER: I am not hating on purity rings, or people that wear them...as always, just my thoughts*

I got you with the title, didn't I? Of course I did.

Someone very special to me asked me recently if I have ever worn a purity ring. Simply put, no. Not because I don't believe in the sanctity of marriage or the value of purity. I have three reasons for not wearing a purity ring.

1) I never got around to getting one when I was younger.

As I got older, I decided not to get around to getting one. Because:

2) To me, wearing a purity ring seems like the pretty equivalent of wearing a sticky note on your forehead that says, "I AM A VIRGIN. GO AHEAD AND ASK ME WHY." ...Do I need people to ask me about my sex life, or lack thereof? MOREOVER, is one of the functions of a purity ring an excuse for teenagers to talk about sex? Sorry, but I don't necessarily want the first thing that people think when they see me (and my purity ring) to be, "She's got a purity ring. She's a virgin." Stay classy, Planet Earth.

3) If I did want the aforementioned thought to be the first thing people notice about me, then as a Christian, the fact that I am not wearing a wedding ring SHOULD be evidence enough that I am, in fact, a virgin. Since when do we have to wear a purity ring to let people know that we're remaining pure? Why can't we just BE PURE!

Of course I believe in purity. Of course I believe true love waits. But that doesn't mean I want to have a conversation with any random person that happens to notice a purity ring on my finger about how I'm waiting to have sex until I get married.

Love,

Shelley

New Years Resolutions and such

I'm sitting in my newly married sister's house in Oklahoma. After an 11 hour drive yesterday, we're all just relaxing today. It's a nice break.

2010 is over. I feel really good about that. God taught me so many things...there were triumphs and disappointments, wins and losses and hard things to learn, but I'm grateful for 2010. I'm also grateful that it's over.

For 2011, my chief resolution is to be a better witness. I'll be the first to admit that aspects of my recent behavior do not lend themselves to the cause of Christ. This will be my primary focus for the new year.

I'm reading a book I got for Christmas, Quivering Daughters, by Hillary McFarland. Hillary has been a Godsend to me for the past few months...while several people were key elements in my healing process, Hillary's influence and graciousness helped me work through my emotions and let go of my bitterness. Her story is amazing...the ease with which she forgives and loves and gives grace constantly inspires me. Please read her book.

I hope 2011 is wonderful for all of you. I'll be enjoying taking it easy in cold Oklahoma with my sisters, almost-sister and cousin for the next few days. God bless you all.

Love,

Shelley

Christmas Eve

My blog has lain dormant for almost a month. I have been very busy. Now, here it is, Christmas Eve. I am so filled with gratitude, love, peace and joy. If God is with us, who is against us?!

This is one of my favorite Christmas songs.

It was not a silent night

There was blood on the ground

You could hear a woman crying

In the alleyway that night

On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean

And the cobblestones were cold

And little Mary, full of grace

With the tears upon her face

Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labour of pain

It was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark

Every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labour of love

Noble Joseph by her side

Calloused hands and weary eyes

There were no midwives to be found

On the streets of David's town

In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed

Shafts of moonlight on his face

But the baby in her womb

He was the Maker of the moon

He was the Author of the faith

That could make the mountains move

It was a labour of pain

It was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark

Every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labour of love

Little Mary, full of grace

With the tears upon her face

It was a labour of love

~Andrew Peterson

God is so good. I've questioned Him so many times...and for what?

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace among men on whom His favor rests.

Merry Christmas to you all, and God bless us, every one.

Love,

Shelley

no more, my God

I am an open person.

Depending on who you are, you may either condemn or condone me for that. Take it for what it is, there is very little that I hide.

I have been extremely transparent on this blog, and for that, I have recently received both praise and criticism. I asked for neither. I understand both. On the one hand, I am grateful that others find my transparency refreshing. It makes me feel like all of this writing isn't for nothing. On the other hand, being transparent means being honest about not only myself, but the relationships I have, and the people involved. So I get that others who aren't as open as I am don't take too kindly to receiving a shout-out from yours truly for all the world to see. So, I'm sorry if it makes people feel uncomfortable, but this is how I'm trying to live my life: honestly.

At this time last year, I was not nearly this person. I had a relationship (not a romantic one, but a clandestine one nonetheless) that I kept completely hidden from everyone important to me. I started lying about little things--things that didn't even matter. I severely damaged my relationships with my parents, my siblings and my friends, I wasn't sleeping, wasn't studying (I honestly do not know how I managed to pass all of my classes). Getting caught the first time did nothing--I just got more elaborate in my dishonesty. It took getting caught a second time; this time with much more painful consequences, to make me realize how I was ruining my life at the tender age of 17. So, I made some drastic changes. I had to work hard at gaining back all the trust that I had lost. It was one of the hardest lessons God ever taught me.

So now, a year later, I keep almost nothing to myself. Concealing things did absolutely nothing but bad things for me. So this is who I am. You can find nearly everything there is to know about me on this blog. The good, the bad and the ugly. And that's the way I like it. I don't want to be private or hidden or mysterious. I want to be open and honest.

So for openness and honesty's sake, this is about as transparent as I come:

There are still some nights when I can't fall asleep because I'm caught between bitter anger and devastated love for him. There are some days when I look in the mirror and feel like if I was a better person he would have fought for me. I never walk into Ann Taylor without looking at the chairs outside and wondering if today is the day he'll come see me. Every few days, I send him a text to see if my number is still blocked from his phone. Then there are days when I go several hours having completely forgotten about him, only to wake up rudely. I feel like a complete mess sometimes.

BUT, I know that Christ loves me. He didn't fight for me--He died for me. There is never a time when I can't have access to Him. He was with me when I could hide everything from everyone else--I couldn't hide from Him. He was with me when I didn't wear makeup for days because I cried too often. He is with me now as I am trying to figure out all of the lessons He is teaching me through this. And He'll be with me forever. Without Him, I am absolutely nothing. Without Him, I AM a mess. But I am not without Him, and because of Him, I am not a mess. He won't let me be.

There you have it. I have no problem telling you all of this, because God didn't make us to hide behind fake smiles and syrupy "I'm fine"s. He didn't give us emotions so we could hide or slight them. Feelings are for FEELING. I refuse to feel bad that I don't hide them all away. I don't think I'm at the point yet where I can say, "I'd do it all over again because of what God did through it all." I still pretty much wish it had never happened. But I'm very hopeful that I'll get to that point at some point!

In love,

Shelley

PS. I will always be ready to be your friend.

remember this time?

I've been feeling very nostalgic...it happens every time Fall comes around. Go figure.

I remember when I turned 6, Beth and I had our birthday party in an almost-empty house, seeing as how we were gearing up for an overseas move the following week. Pawpop and Grandma gave us Barbie balloons. We thought it was strange, since we didn't play with Barbies. But the balloons were nice.

I remember getting lost at Waikiki Beach 2 weeks after moving to Hawaii. Beth knows she left me on purpose.

I remember spending the night at my friend Sarah's house, getting my hair caught in a hairbrush and having to cut my hair off the brush at 2 am. We laughed so hard.

I remember turning 7 during Vacation Bible School, and getting my first Bible.

I remember my daddy baptizing me at the North Shore.*

I remember decorating the Easter Cross with all kinds of flowers with Beth and our friends Sarah, Hannah and Stephanie. It was beautiful.*

I remember boarding the plane to move back to San Antonio. I can only count on one hand the number of times I have cried that hard.

I remember hating San Antonio with a white hot fiery passion.

I remember getting my ears pierced. It didn't hurt.

I remember the first Sunday of Covenant of Grace, in a tiny hotel banquet room, with a handful of wonderful families.

I remember meeting Ms. Penny...she understood me right away. It blew my mind.

I remember singing For Good with my friend Nicole.

I remember taking pictures on a rainy day with my friends Hannah and Rachel.*

I remember going out to eat in Fort Worth with my parents and my eight brothers and sisters...just us. I think that's the only time that has ever happened. We ate lots of sopapillas.*

I remember co-producing a 10 minute movie with my friend Andy and a bunch of fabulous people.

I remember co-directing Psalty's Christmas Calamity with CJ and Beth. It was then that I was given the nickname, "Psalty Nazi." Let's just say I have a very, very loud yelling voice.

I remember going hiking with most of my family, and coming home exhausted, but with enough energy to wolf down mom's tuna stuffed potatoes, and cast lots for the leftovers.*

I remember my first day at Northwest Vista. 16 years old, and no idea what the hell I was doing. I never turned in homework in French 1, because I was under the impression that homework assignments were optional.

I remember going to see Wicked.*

I remember the night when my friend Cheyenne and I sat in my bed and, for the first time, talked about one day being sisters.

I remember going to the zoo over spring break with Nathan and our friends Hannah, Rachel and Chris. Nathan was blocking the rhino.*

I remember my senior recital. It scared me to death, it stressed me out beyond measure, but I'm so glad I did it.

I remember seeing Toy Story 3 at midnight with my friends on my 18th birthday.

I remember sitting at Starbucks with my friend Josh after smoking my first cigarette, talking about nearly everything.*

I remember Beth piercing my ears with a piercing gun. She was more freaked out than I was.

I remember CJ's wedding. I miss that day.*

*My favorite days.

I believe that everything--every person, place, situation you experience changes you. Not drastically, of course, but you are ever so slightly different than you were before each new encounter. This helps me to see the positive side to things...without each and every thing that has happened to me, I wouldn't be exactly who I am today.

Love,

Shelley

free to be me

Sunday was, for the general public, Halloween, and for many Christians, Reformation Day. I am a fan of both. Don't be fooled--Reformation Day isn't a "Christian response" to Halloween. It's actually older than Halloween, and they just happen to fall on the same day of the year. It's not anyone's fault that Martin Luther picked October 31, 1517 to nail his 95 theses on a church door. Well, I suppose it's Martin Luther's fault. But I just want to make it clear that I have no problem with kids dressing up and asking people for candy. I've had some great costumes over the years. At 5 I was a kitten, at 8 I was a ballerina, at 13 I was Trinity from The Matrix, at 14 Beth and I were each other (it was awesome, btw), and last year I was a hippie. I really committed to that one, too, abstaining from shaving my legs for almost 2 weeks before Halloween. Yeah. This year, however, I wore no costume. I was happy being me!

After a church service at which I thundered out A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, my siblings and I (sans parents who are greatly missed on their wonderful vacation) went to a Reformation Day celebration hosted by some wonderful church friends of ours. We had such a great time fellowshipping with so many other believers. A couple hours in to the party, the host gave a wonderful presentation on the Reformation, and the life of St. Augustine. At the very end of it, he said something that has stuck with me, primarily because it has been on my mind so much for the past several weeks. He was wrapping up explaining how Christ saved us out of death because we could not save ourselves, and that because of Him, we are not held by death or bondage. "That is freedom in Christ." It most certainly is.

Like I said--this topic has largely occupied my thoughts as of late. Too many times I have seen freedom in Christ neglected and replaced with human bondage. Too many times I have seen that human bondage consume entire families to the point where they stifle their own children or ostracize their friends. It breaks my heart. I am so thankful to God for a) the freedom He has given His people, and b) for allowing me to realize and take hold of it! I don't need a formula or a list or a method. I need Christ. And since I have Him, I am free to be myself, free to live for Him, free from feeling like I'm "not doing it right."

Anyway, it was so wonderful to hear those words spoken in a large setting on Sunday night. I write about freedom in Christ in my journal constantly, and I talk about it occasionally online or in my own home, so it was nice to hear it from someone else's mouth. And no matter who you are, it is always something beneficial to be reminded of. I left that night remembering for the thousandth time over how grateful I am for my freedom, and how I can't even imagine living without it. It must be such a sad existence.

I hope you all had a wonderful day on Sunday, whatever your preferred holiday.

Love, always,

Shelley

less like scars and more like character

I am rebuilding.

I am relinquishing bitterness, resentment, longing, sad songs, arguing, self-doubt, insomnia and hurt.

I am not broken. It may have felt that way, but I am whole, I am full of life and love, and I refuse to be jaded or cynical or weak.

There is not a single person who I do not love.

I tip my hat to friends like Hillary and Lewis who have the strength and courage to use their own experiences to 1) speak out against those who would manipulate Christians' hearts and minds using their own version of the Gospel, and 2) be comfort and sound counsel for those being wounded by the same movements. Perhaps one day I will be in a state of mind to do the same, but for now, I enjoy sharing what these wonderfully articulate writers have to say.

During these past several weeks and months, I realized for the 18930849th time that I truly have the greatest family. They will always be here for me, even when I'm too miserable to notice. I don't deserve them, but I thank God every day for them.

God also surrounded me with the most loving, caring, honest and supportive brothers and sisters in Christ who I am so, so blessed to call my friends.

My life has purpose.

I am not looking back. I am looking ahead.

When I get to Heaven, God will not care that I wore pants, that I didn't believe in courtship or that I listened to music other than K LOVE. He cares about His children, not the rules they make for themselves.

I will go where He leads. Nowhere else.

In peace and love,

Shelley

no change of heart, a change in me

Very few things make me quite as happy as cool weather. Yes, summer is nice for flowy skirts, greek sandals and tank tops, but oh...what I'd give for a year-round fall. Time to pull out the sweaters, black tights, boots, and, of course, my red plaid coat. :) Fall and winter agree with me.

As I walked outside this morning and was met with the 60 degree air, I was immediately flooded with memories of last fall--the feel and the smell of the air took me back to a time when my life looked so different, even just a year ago. I was reminded of being at Northwest Vista, the people there I hung out with, all the time I wasted, all the mistakes I made, all the laughs I had. I also remembered Black Friday shopping...deathly cold, running on absolutely no sleep, crying from exhaustion, falling asleep at Starbucks...not the BEST shopping trip ever, but it makes for a hilarious memory. So all of this made me think about all that has happened since I last felt chilly walking outside. This has without a doubt been the busiest, craziest, happiest, saddest, most wonderful year of my life. So much that I never could have imagined happening happened. All of this realization made me catch my breath. I serve a sovereign God. This busy, crazy, happy, sad, wonderful year is everything He planned it would be. What a beautiful reminder. I say this all the time, but it bears repeating: nothing surprises God. When life surprises you, remember that. It's such a relief. God made me who I am today, and He used the best and worst of circumstances to do it. I am grateful.

put on your Sunday clothes, there's lots of world out there

"Why do you dress nicely for church?"

The above question was asked to me a few weeks ago at my church. To my surprise, I had never given serious thought to it before. As far back as I can remember, my parents have set standards for dress, including for Sundays. When I was a very little girl, I would never dream of wearing anything but a dress to church (albeit, I would never dream of wearing anything but a dress, at all). My mother would brush my soft curly hair (while I enjoyed the soft curliness of it, having my hair brushed was one of the worst things I could think of, right next to wearing tennis shoes or worse...pants), help me distinguish between white and off-white tights and pick out a "twirly" dress.

When we moved to Hawaii, tights became less practical, and were reserved strictly for ballet lessons. My hair had turned blonde and wild, but Sunday was the one day when I simply had to get every knot out. In those days, my church clothes were still primarily dresses, including one or two muumuus (oh yes).

Moving back to San Antonio saw me branch out a little bit, and mix in denim skirts and shirts to my Sunday attire. In those days, my parents not only had rules about clothing, but hair as well. Although this became less of an issue as we got older, for several years, my sisters and I weren't allowed to wear our hair in ponytails to church. Hair needed to be brushed and left down, held back with barrettes, or french braided (every self-respecting homeschooled girl knows the joys of french braids).

As I got older, I began wearing pants to church occasionally, but always "nice" pants. I would never dream of wearing jeans with holes (to this day, I seldom wear jeans at all to church). It was always dressed up, never casual, hair was done, makeup neat.

So thinking back over all of this, and looking at how much the way I dress for church has changed over the years, I realized (rather late in life, I'd imagine) that it's not aboutwhat you wear, but why you are wearing it. It's your attitude. I dress nicely because I am in the Lord's house--why wouldn't I want to look my best for Him? Not that He cares what I look like, obviously, but even so, I want to be presentable. So for me, dressing nicely has everything to do with perception. At 8 years old, I would have thought that wearing pants or hair in a ponytail to church wasn't nice enough. That had everything to do with my perception of what nice was. Now, I feel presentable when I wear pants to church, because I can make it look "dressy." The reason my parents had a rule about ponytails was because when we were younger, wearing a ponytail meant not doing our hair--throwing it up in a ponytail holder so we didn't have to mess with it. That isn't how I think of it today. Again, it was about attitude. Dressing "nicely" is relative--what is nice to one person may be far too casual OR over-the-top to any other given person. Let's not judge fellow believers on what they wear when they worship--or what they wear at all. The Lord calls us all to different standards of dress, and it is our own to work out based on how we feel He has called us.

Love,

Shelley

Trust me

Ever noticed how loosely we throw around the word "trust?" It's a big deal to put your trust in someone. To have faith in them. To believe that they won't let you down.

I have a "childlike trust in the goodness of others." Unfortunately, it sets me up for disappointment more often than not. I simply force myself to believe that people, in general, are good, and that they won't disappoint or hurt me. Of course, that is generally not the case. People, in general, are bad. People are not trustworthy, and they will disappoint you.

Last night, sister Beth, almost-sister Cristen and I were having a somewhat melancholy discussion about trust. The conclusion we came to was that God must have made us all so untrustworthy on purpose. If people could be trusted, no one would need to trust in God. That is the comfort in which I rest. When people inevitably fail me, God will never.

However, even after coming to this realization, I still tend to place my trust in faulty, fallen people. I can't exactly help it. After all, I am part of that faulty, fallen people. I trust too easily. I suppose it goes along with being an optimist. There's nothing wrong with wanting to assume the best in people. I'm not saying I think that one should never trust another person. What I'm reveling in is that I know there is One who will never, ever give me a reason not to trust Him. He gave me the gift of faith in Him, and I can always rest in that. It's an amazing feeling.

To hear with my heart

To see with my soul

To be guided by a Hand I cannot hold

To trust in a way that I cannot see

That's what faith must be

~Michael Card

Love,

Shelley

everything will be fine

Another long week comes to a close. Another long week is about to start.

This week will see me working a lot. I'm not complaining. I like working. Friday will be interesting...I'll be working 9-5:30 (with a break from 1-1:30, thank goodness). We'll see how well I can manage my ADHD.

Sometimes I wish my life was simple. Normal. But then I remember that it wouldn't be exciting and neurotic. You can't have it all. At least not all at once.

The nice thing about insomnia is that it leaves ample time to think. I've been getting lots of quality thinking time in lately.

I usually blog with a purpose or theme. Not tonight. I'm too tired, my thoughts are too scattered, my emotions are too exhausted.

Good night. Love,

Shelley

on everything

>>>My room is a mess. Mainly because I'm never home for a long enough period of time to clean it. Also because the speakers on my computer are not great, and I refuse to do anything time consuming without a lot of music to help me.

>>>My hair is straight. Feeling adventurous, with hair still wet yesterday morning, I ran a brush through it for the first time in I don't know how long (curly hair is not meant to be brushed). After which I blow-dried it and straightened it. And guess what? My hair is getting LONG. So I repeated this process today, liking the way my hair feels as it brushes across my shoulders. It won't last long though, it will most likely be back to its curly, barely manageable self tomorrow.

>>>My journal is filling up. So many things to write in it. I like my journal more than I like my blog. Most of my thoughts either aren't worth blogging, or are not purposed to be blogged.

>>>My piano is suffering through my mood swings. Days of neglect followed by days of much love and attention. The latter has been the past few days, although at the moment, most of my preferred music is lacking a little something [read: someone] special.

>>>My anticipation is mounting. In less than 50 days, I get to meet my beautiful niece Savannah, see my wonderful sister and co., and stand by my "twin" sister as she gets married. October 9th is going to be an amazing day.

>>>My God is continually preserving and strengthening me. He loves me forever.

waiting on the world to change

I've recently been feeling very convicted by my lack of evangelism. I can very easily say I have a "heart for evangelism," and a "love for the lost," but at the moment, since I'm not in school anymore, I haven't been living that out. My wandering mind has led me to draw comparisons.

I work at Ann Taylor. Every time I go in and start my shift, my manager updates me on how we are doing in terms of sales, Style Rewards, etc. I am good at both of those things. I can add 3 pieces to an outfit in a dressing room and I can convince women to open credit cards. I'm trustworthy and persuasive. I make people like me. So it hit me earlier,

Why am I not capitalizing on this outside of a clothing store??

When I am so good at helping women find clothes that will work for them, why am I not helping people in their walk with the Lord, or helping them to find their walk?

When I am so good at saying, "Have you heard about our Style Rewards program? Here are all the benefits...," why am I not saying, "Have you heard about Jesus? Here's how he died so you could live...?"

Ann Taylor sets a sales goal for every hour, day, week, month. I'm going to set myself a witnessing goal. I'm excited!

Love, Shelley

well it goes without saying

Been too busy to blog lately...summer does not = summer break.

I have the privilege of lending my soprano-ness to a choir that will perform at two fundraising events for Voice of the Martyrs. VOM is a wonderful organization and I am proud to be a part of this, but the rehearsing is a trip. Fortunately, the two events are the last two Fridays of this month, so we're almost done!

Ann Taylor hired me as a stylist/sales associate, which is fun. When I was a little girl, I would have fainted from excitement if I knew that at 18, I would be required to get moderately dressed up for work, and spend hours styling people. I also think I would have been shocked if I knew that I would come to resent wearing high heels at the end of each day. Mais c'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

Today is the first day all week that I am home for dinner. Well, really, it's the first day all week that I've been home period. I've been looking forward to today for that very reason, but now that it's more than halfway through the day, I feel like I need to be doing something. I'm not sure I know how not to do anything anymore. All I've been able to do all day is think--which I haven't had time for all week. It's odd.

Well, I've knocked out two items on my list of things to do. Good for me.

I think this is my most aimless, undirected post to date. Time to go find something to do.

Love,

Shelley

measure in love

Something that I have been pondering for a while now is the issue of homosexuality and the rights demanded by homosexuals in this country. As recent as a year ago, I would have told you, straight up, homosexuality was the worst offense, that there is no "coming back" from it, and that conservatives should fight to keep gay marriage illegal at all costs. What I would not have said, but would have felt, is that homosexuals aren't worth my time. I am truly ashamed to admit that. The homosexuals I came in contact with were immediately written off and disdainfully ignored.

I don't recall when specifically my mind changed, but after praying, reading and thinking about it, I came to the realization that homosexuals deserve and need to hear the Gospel just as much as every other unbeliever. If, as is so often the case, Christians more often judge and pay less attention homosexuals than to the rest of the world, can we hardly blame them for rejecting Christ? What example do we set?

I do believe homosexuality is wrong. Scripture gives ample evidence to that. But does that mean that I shouldn't love homosexuals? Does that mean I shouldn't pray for them? Does that mean I shouldn't waste my breath telling them about Christ? Of course not.

I would never do anything to assist in the passing of a gay marriage law. However, I am not going to waste energy standing in its way. Marriage was given to Christians as a religious, Scriptural institution. And to Christians, it has remained that way. But in this country, where two people have to get permission from their state to get married, marriage is a civil institution, having nothing to do with religion. For this reason, I don't see the point in conservatives spending valuable time, money and effort into making sure that no two men or women can obtain a marriage license, especially when this law is so inevitable. Gay marriage will become legal very soon. When thousands of children are being murdered legally in this country every day, when Christians are persecuted for their faith all around the world, why are we so concerned about this group of people that simply wants the benefits that come with being "married?" Conservatives need to throw up their hands on this issue and narrow their focus to things on which they have a fighting chance--i.e. Roe v. Wade.

When this does pass into law, homosexuals will forever look back and say, "The Christians tried to stand in our way." And they'd be right. I know that many don't share this same view, but the way I see it, how does it affect me if homosexuals can get married? Oh yeah, it doesn't really. I was not put on this earth to judge homosexuals--or anyone. I was put here by God to a) glorify Him, b) spread His Word, and c) love. First and foremost, I love Christ. I love the Church. And I love the lost. How do I glorify God and spread His Word if I don't overflow with love for those to whom He called me to witness? Equally as important, why would the lost be open to the teachings of Christ if Christians are perpetually antagonizing them? What if Christians gently but firmly stated that we do not agree with homosexuals' lifestyle choices, but that we love them? Why all the commotion that only ends in bitterness on both sides? Why would homosexuals ever be open to the Gospel after that?

As I have said, I think the passage of this law is imminent. But I firmly believe that a necessary caveat to this law be that churches must reserve the right not to perform homosexual wedding ceremonies, or grant church membership to homosexual couples. In talking with my brother-in-law about this the other night, he profoundly commented that more important than churches having the right not to perform such ceremonies will be churches having the courage not to. Hmm.

I have been told that my point of view is too conservative for liberals and too liberal for conservatives. Story of my life.

In peace and love,

Shelley