Living Proof

There have been many times where I have met with people of the LGBT community who would say to me, “Well, I used to be Catholic/Christian/Protestant etc., but I wasn’t accepted because I’m gay.” Nobody likes rejection and nobody wants to walk into an establishment (especially a house of God) and feel rejected right when they walk inside. On top of that, because of “people’s” rejections - it automatically sends a message that God Himself rejects them too. And that’s not an easy thing to deal with emotionally. They begin to reject “religion” altogether and either label themselves as “spiritual” or resort to atheism. Usually, there is no offer of another option - no source to guide them to other places that will accept them. Some seek out churches that are more accepting like the Episcopalian churches and others alike. Wherever they are most comfortable is the important thing. Even better if you have a personal relationship with God and are able to pray at home, rather than sit in a pew ...

Most people of religious faith do it regularly. They want their loved ones to be protected, so they pray for them. Some people pray for the healing of others. They say prayer is the most powerful thing you can do; the best gift you can give. My question is: why pray for others when God is much more powerful than mere humans? This is not a lack of faith on my end but another and theory about praying for other’s well-being. Picture it: God is listening to you. What are you going to ask Him? What kind of conversation would you really have with God Himself? Do we have a lack of faith when we pray to God to heal another person? Do we think that God cannot handle this task on His own without our prayers? Or is it just a reassurance that we’ve got our prayers in so let’s “hope” for the best? Don’t get me wrong—I firmly believe in prayer, but the other day I was sitting down thinking: why are we praying for others when God is in control? Is it because it’s a selfless act and we want to send po...

Another sunrise, another groggy stumble out of the bedroom trip over and fall down trying to make it to the front door type of morning, in hopes that none of my neighbors see me fumbling for the packaged up newspaper on my welcome mat that the paperboy flung so violently at my apartment 4am, waking me up and disturbing my sleep only leaving me to wake up even more tired and grouchier at 6am. (What a run on sentence that was!) All I could hear was a “thud” and his little feet running down as though there was a massive fire. Instead of our usual coffee, I poured some espresso grinds into the regular coffee machine to give it an extra punch. It’s been a helluva’ week with my dress situation and I inevitably became Madelene’s worse nightmare: BRIDEZILLA. At one point, the words, “let’s just forget about it” came out of my mouth, as Madelene stood there in horror (or relief )---not quite sure. I had to get the perfect “under gear” for the dress, because, umm, well, these puppies needed a...