Braving The Wilderness with Brené

I just finished this book mere moments ago.


I feel like this is the book I should have read about 15 years ago. When I didn’t understand the difference between fitting in and belonging. I didn’t understand boundaries. I didn’t even know who I was, really.

This is the book I should have read 5 years ago before I walked into the wilderness in my life and I suddenly had to stand on my own two feet. I found myself without a tribe to belong to, and that’s a very lonely and scary feeling (Jen Hatmaker even contributes a few words in this book on her experience in the wilderness which made me tear up and go, “omg – she’s writing my exact life story!”)

Brown discusses what it means to truly belong to yourself. This means you don’t fold on your convictions because the world stands in disagreement. It means you don’t change yourself in order to find a tribe you fit in with.

She talks about owning ourselves, the meaning of which she sums up with the acronym, “BRAVING”:

She discusses issues of polarity that plague our society – specifically politics. And how to respect others in order to find common ground. This means knocking down the walls that divide us. This means we cannot “otherize” those who disagree with our beliefs. Yes, that means you’ve got to start seeing that Trump supporter or that Liberal as a human being with feelings, thoughts, and inherent value in this world – just like you. They aren’t the enemy.

(She was preaching to me hard on that topic)

She even touches on the gun debate, but you’ve likely seen some of her words on that floating around in light of the Parkland shooting.

I cannot recommend this book enough.

Go to your local library and reserve a copy today.


Books, books, books!

(Title to be read, obviously, in Becky’s voice from How I Met Your Mother as she cheered for “boats, boats, boats!”)

So last year, I gave myself the goal of reading 100 books.

I failed epically. I ended up cheating towards the end of the year and amending my GoodReads goal to 50. I made it to 40 books finished.

This year, I was going to be smarter. I created the goal of reading 60 books in 2018. And so far, I’m doing okay. I *just* finished book #6.

Before I get to that one, I’ll just catch you up real quick on what I’ve read:

1. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

Excellent. I read it in about 24 hours. And I ugly cried multiple times. My fiancé tried asking me about the book when I finished and I was very emotional in trying to describe it. Apparently I screamed in his ear 🤷🏻‍♀️

2. The Emotional Life of the Toddler by Alicia F. Lieberman

Also excellent. It’s a really great book for understanding the world that our littles live in. It describes everything from attachment theory to how littles understand their bodies and sexuality (spoiler: that transgender phase you’re worried about? Normal and part of healthy development. Let your little man wear your heels and pearls). I’d highly recommend it to anyone who works with littles and any parents/those considering having children.

3. Out of Sorts by Sarah Bessey

I love Sarah Bessey. She’s a leader within the Christian feminist movement. She’s done so much good in ensuring that Christian women know that they have value within the Christian community. And that we can do so much more for our faith communities than remain limited to the roles that we’ve been taught since birth are reserved for us and us alone.

This particular book is about her deconstruction from modern evangelicalism and how she pieces together her faith again. I identified with her so very much. And it was healing to know that someone I truly respect has been there and come through the other end in good shape.

4. When the Body Says No by Gabor Maté

Oh. My. Lanta. Such a good book on the link between stress/improper emotional regulation/expression and illness. I’d highly recommend this one to everyone.

5. Red Clocks by Leni Zumas

This was… okay. I was highly intrigued by the plot (a world where abortion and IVF treatments are made illegal and punishable by length prison sentences). I was only disappointed because I felt the ending was unresolved and would have loved to get to know the characters better. But the book itself was great for the provoking of thoughts.

6. Of Mess and Moxie by Jen Hatmaker. My latest accomplishment.

This was a really really great read. I’ve been following her on Facebook for awhile. I’ve come to really respect her views on life and faith. But I’d never actually picked up one of her books. Until now.

Her writing style is very disarming. A chapter on her life. A chapter on her thoughts about God. A chapter of recipes. A chapter on how tos with great advice on this like “how to ruin your toddler’s life”, “how to grow an insanely long chin or neck hair when you’re thirty-seven”, and “how to get uninvited back to a home décor store.”

It reads more like a print copy of her blog. Which is great. It makes for quick reading and it helps to absorb the deeper things she’s saying when the whole book is about alllllll kinds of different things.

I’d highly recommend this book 👍🏻 in fact, stop what you’re doing now and order a copy.

While you do that, I’ll be over here getting started on book #7.

The Gift of Uncertainty

Many years ago, I was involved with a Bible conference. It was held once a year, and always asked the most conservative men to come speak and give their understanding of the Bible and the world around us.

While I may have enjoyed some talks, much of what was taught was rather fear-based and ultimately unhelpful.

But there’s one thing, specifically, that stands out in my mind tonight.

One year, we had a speaker that was teaching about the dangers of the Emerging Church. One of those dangers would be summed up in a random quote this speaker found made by Rob Bell’s wife in which she was describing how her worldview changed when she left fundamentalism for progressive Christianity. She described the beauty of uncertainty in spirituality as bringing colour to her formerly grey world of certainty and answers (I’m paraphrasing).

That’s all that she said.

This bothered the speaker quite deeply. He saw this kind of thinking as heresy.

At the time I agreed. I couldn’t understand finding beauty in not having the answers to everything. And I couldn’t understand why people would reject a faith that claimed to have all the answers for a faith that was completely comfortable with saying, “there’s a lot that we just don’t know. And that’s okay.”

I found deep comfort in believing I had the answers.

And then a number of things happened in my life that showed me, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that those answers I was so convinced of were all mere illusions.

Worse – they were illusions that kept me trapped in a pharisaical faith. It kept me away from truly knowing God. And in turn, I kept others from truly knowing God because I perpetuated the gospel of certainty in my own faith community.

I thought I had the answers on how to “cure” so-called alternative lifestyles (which was always code for those who belong to the LGBTQ community). And then I met people who were on the verge of suicide because they tried those “answers” and all it got them was deeply seated self-hatred and alienation from a loving community.

I thought I had the answers on how to end abortion. And then I met women whose lives were saved because they had access to safe and legal abortion.

I thought I had the answers to a Holy and God-pleasing life, and then I looked around me and realized that both myself and my faith community had sacrificed grace for the earning of salvation and righteousness by “holy and pure living.”

I thought I had the right interpretation of Scripture. But the more I untangle my faith from man-made traditions disguised as the gospel, the more I realize how little I actually know about the Bible. And the more I learn about what a truly big God I serve.

He is completely “other” to the boxes we love to force Him into. He exists outside our presuppositional apologetics and our systematic theologies.

I’m realizing how poorly I’ve understood the gospel my entire life.

And the more I realize that I don’t have the answers, the more beauty I see in my faith. Because it means that I follow a God who defies expectation and the demands of mere men.

It means I have a lifetime of learning to do to discover who He is. And to worship Him in more God-honouring ways.

Uncertainty is a gift. And it’s something the church needs to become more comfortable with. It’s not only okay to not have the answers, it’s healthy and good to be able to openly say the words, “I don’t know.”

We all have so much learning and growing to do. And we can only do that if we’re able to admit we’re not as certain as the church tells us we should be.

Beware the Unequally Yoked

For those of you who grew up in the conservative church, you’ll likely remember hearing warnings against dating or marrying outside your faith. You might have even been given a Bible verse and were told that Scripture itself forbids dating/marrying outside the fold.

You might have even been convinced this was true. I was. For the longest time. Until I met an atheist that I wound up falling for. And I took a second look at those verses.

And I was astounded that they did not say what I’d been taught they did.

The Bible says do not be unequally yoked. Can we look at that verse?

14 Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? 15 What harmony is there between Christ and Belial[?Or what does a believer have in common with an unbeliever?

What is Paul discussing here? Is it dating? Is it marriage? No. The truth is, there’s contention amongst commentaries over what exactly is being said here: some suggest he was warning against ties with pagan religion. Others say it was an addition by a scribe.

But one thing is clear from context: he was not concerned about dating.

If we try to stretch this verse to cover marriage, half of the newly founded Church is now living in sinful unions and must separate, as that bubble we live(d) in so comfortably to choose a spouse from today did not exist back then. This interpretation also nullifies 1 Corinthians 7:12-16 which leaves room for the existence of the unbelieving spouse.

The other conclusion we must draw, if we want to generalize this verse to include spouses – no relationships (work, friend, family, etc…) could exist between a Christian and a nonChristian. We must forsake all for the comfortable Christian bubble. But that bubble works actively against the Great Commission thing. So we know that’s also not what Paul was getting at.

The rest of the “stay in the fold!” argument remains fear-based. I know. I was quite adamant back in the day of ensuring those who wandered outside the fold in search of companionship were aware of the risks (and if any of those people I spoke with on this matter happen to read this: from the bottom of my heart, I apologize. I was wrong).

The unbelieving spouse will raise unbelieving children.

This argument is ludicrous when we stop to realize that a faith is not a predetermined choice, outside of a theocracy. My fiancé, and others like him, were raised by Christian parents. But they did not continue in the faith. And the reverse is also true: people not raised by Christians, often find themselves identifying as one. Whether or not a child chooses the Christian faith is entirely between that person and God.

And no one else.

The unbeliever will drag the believer down spiritually.

This has not been my experience. In fact it’s been the opposite. My unbelieving significant other has been the accountability my faith has needed.

Long before he and I started dating, I stopped attending church. My last church was rife with spiritual abuse and legalism. And I was discovering that my life had been filled with legalism and spiritual abuse for as long as I could remember. I needed to not attend for a time in order to process and heal.

That period lasted for about 2 years up until after my fiancé and I had been dating for awhile. And one day he mentioned that he noticed I never attended church and asked me if I wanted him to go with me. That Easter was the first time I stepped foot in a church in two years. And it’s because my unbelieving boyfriend wanted me to have church again.

In fact, with the exception of one service, every time I’ve gone to Church since we’ve been together has been with him because he wants to actively encourage me to find a church and a church community to connect with.

My unbelieving partner is the reason I see, more clearly than I otherwise would, through the manmade traditions within evangelicalism that have been dressed up as literal gospel truth. Lies that separated me from my God. As I dig deeper into my faith, he is the one challenging me to go even deeper.

My unbelieving fiancé wants me to believe. He wants me to pursue my faith – even if one day I decide that pursuit leads me into some formal ministry (at this point I doubt it. But I’d also doubted I’d ever write anything like this post, so hey…).

He wants me to believe because he loves me. And he knows that my God and my faith are important in my life.

That’s not what I’d call unequally yoked, as seen in Paul’s letter.

I’m far more equally yoked with this man than any of the Christian men who have pursued me. Those were the men who, though they appreciated I had the intellect for intelligent discussion, never wanted a wife who would call BS on legalistic doctrine. Or who would actively disagree with their thoughts on Bible, faith, or God.

Had I settled for one of them, that would have been an unequally yoked situation because I could never be the woman God intended me to be or minister in however way I’m meant to. Those men would have actively held me back with accusations and suspicions of heresy and backsliding. Even rebelliousness. That would not have honoured God in any way.

I’ll keep my unbelieving man. Because he makes me a better person and a better Christian.

Baby, I Was Born This Way

Story time!

A couple of years ago a myself and few friends got together for what would soon go down in history as one of the worst New Years Eve celebrations in history. For many reasons, none of which I’ll state here.

At the end of these celebrations, one girl tried to subtly ask if myself and my close girlfriend were in a lesbian relationship together.


Oh, she played it cool. She was asking on behalf of her “sister”. And let’s be clear here: she wasn’t asking out of wanting to invest in our lives. She wanted dirt.

And suddenly the weird looks and snubs I’d been getting from her friends and family all weekend made perfect sense.

I found it hilarious when I realized what she was doing. Just the way she asked so carefully as if she were about to unearth a big scandal. I had to remind myself not to laugh.

Cuz, I’ll put it very simply; I see no shame in being homosexual. I am not ashamed to have people think I’m part of that community, even if that assumption is false.

Truth is: If I preferred women, I’d seek out a relationship with a woman. I live in what is probably the most LGBTQ affirming city in my nation. I’d have zero problems. But, I’m quite heterosexual. I like men. One man in particular, but I digress.

I think about this story every now and then and I compare and contrast with other things I’ve witnessed or experienced where being thought to be gay was seen as such a shameful thing. As kids, if we wanted to insult someone, we’d call them gay. Even in celebrity circles – celebs used to be so quick to issue press releases/make statements if they heard any rumours about their sexuality so no one would believe they were anything but straight.

It used to be such a shameful thing not even 20 years ago. For many people, as my misguided “friend” shows, it still is.

What is so shameful about being attracted to someone? Even if it is same sex attraction?

What if we just accepted people?

Can you imagine a world where people were shamed and insulted by being called “straight”? It’s ludicrous because we already accept straight people as “normal” and “okay” (despite numerous reports and stats showing how predatorial straight people can be – pedophiles, rapists, etc… Again I digress).

Earlier today, I read an article about Amber Cantorna, the daughter of a Focus on the Family exec who came out as gay in 2012. In this article she talks about complete excommunication by her family, her church, and her friends. The way the people in her life reacted to her truth caused her to contemplate taking her own life.

Sadly, her story is very common.

The world today is friendlier towards LGBTQ people, than perhaps 20-30 years ago. But that doesn’t mean it’s safe.

Stats show that LGBTQ people experience higher rates of assault than heterosexual people:

The CDC’s National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey found for LGB people:

44 percent of lesbians and 61 percent of bisexual women experience rape, physical violence, or stalking by an intimate partner, compared to 35 percent of heterosexual women.

26 percent of gay men and 37 percent of bisexual men experience rape, physical violence, or stalking by an intimate partner, compared to 29 percent of heterosexual men

46 percent of bisexual women have been raped, compared to 17 percent of heterosexual women and 13 percent of lesbians

22 percent of bisexual women have been raped by an intimate partner, compared to 9 percent of heterosexual women

40 percent of gay men and 47 percent of bisexual men have experienced sexual violence other than rape, compared to 21 percent of heterosexual men

Human Rights Campaign

And us heterosexual people are sitting over here all scared of being labeled “gay”.

Wonder why.

Let’s drop the bullshit. And remember that every human being in the planet, despite who they may love/be attracted to/identify as is an actual human being. And as a human being, they are deserving of love and respect.

They are not your piece of gossip to get all scandalized about.

They are not a threat to your marriage.

They are not a threat to your favourite bakery.

Move past the BS and love.

And now I’ll leave you with some Lady Gaga.

Born This Way


Women everywhere are stepping forward and saying they have been a victim of sexual harassment and/or assault. 

I wasn’t going to make a public post on this topic because my experiences are still too raw in some ways to open them up for public discussion. But now I’m starting to see some pushback that’s making my blood boil. 

Right now, in the comments on a Scary Mommy post on Facebook, women are actually debating who is more scarred or damaged: women who have been assaulted or women who have only experienced harassment. That’s beyond fucked up, and it misses the entire point of the #metoo movement. We’re speaking up to raise awareness of the fact that EVERY woman has faced some form of sexual harassment or assault. It’s showing that we do, in fact, live in a rape culture. 

I also happened to read a blog post by the daughter of a well known conservative theologian (who shall remain nameless because her nonsense doesn’t need any kind of publicity) which was written in response to the #metoo movement. 

In this post she acknowledges how heartbreaking it is to see so many women speak up about their experiences. But then denies the existence of rape culture. 

What is the actual cause of these issues?

A sexually liberal society. If people just learned to keep it in their pants, we wouldn’t have rape. And we wouldn’t have harassment. 

I will not share my stories, but suffice to say: I know what it’s like to be assaulted and harassed. I know what it’s like to have men feel entitled to do or say what they like to your body simply because you have boobs and a vagina. My experiences cannot be blamed on some sexual liberal/rebellious phase on my end. I was always the picture of sexual purity. I dressed modestly. I grew up in a Christian bubble. I only dated other men who shared my values: guess what? It still happened to me. And not just once. 

Sexual assault can be traced literally right back to the Bible and ancient societies. Rape culture is not something that sprang up with the sexual revolution of the 60s. It’s been a problem for centuries. And only now are we able to start talking about it and address it. 

Sexual assault/harassment can happen to anyone. I’ve heard that stats on this are 1 in 6 women will have experienced some form of assault in their lives (based on reported assaults – we know most assaults go unreported so that number may actually be much higher). You’d be hardpressed to find a woman who has not experienced harassment. 

The perverse thing is: the more you dive into religious circles, the stats are not any more comforting. Statistics show that it is married religious men who are most likely to offend

This is real. 

We can no longer hide our heads in the sand and cry “purity culture will save us!”

Because it can’t and it won’t. If anything, it grooms people for waiting predators. 

To all of the women out there, whether or not you’ve publicly spoken by typing the words, “me too” or ever even told anyone your experiences: my heart goes out to you. It’s not your fault no matter what the voice in your head or the people around you may say. No one ever signs up for abuse. 

Small Great Things

I’ve just finished my 33rd book of the year. I’ve already failed miserably in my goal to reach 100 this year. Mainly because: life. 

But I’ve read. And I’ve learned and I’ve grown. So I can’t say it’s a total failure. And the year is not over yet. I’ve still got a lot of reading and growing to do. 

The book I’ve just finished is Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult. It’s book about a white supremacist who accuses an African American woman of murder and the accused’s white defense lawyer who, though she wouldn’t call herself racist, slowly has her eyes opened to the privilege that she has simply because of the colour of her skin. She becomes aware of hidden bias she and others harbour against people of colour and she finally, in the end, stops talking and starts to really watch and listen to see how different life can be for two people in the same city simply because of the colour of their skin. 

It’s an extremely powerful book. I think if anyone wants a better understanding of what privilege is, this is a very helpful tool. It’s written by a white woman who wanted to be an ally and write something specifically for white people to help us call into question our own bias and see where our own privilege has been at play.  

I particularly like the what she has to say in her notes at the end of the book. I’ll end this post with her own words:

Love is Not Obsessive

You know that movie? It’s the one where the guy falls in love with the girl and because The Thing That Happened happened, she wants nothing to do with him. So he persists and persists until she gives up and gives in and they live happily ever after. You know that one?

AKA every chick flick that was ever produced?

Yeah. That’s bullshit.

In real life, if she was smart she’d take out a restraining order against the guy. And never speak to him again.

These movies do not show true love. These movies are Hollywood-produced examples of dysfunctional relationships. Except they get it backwards and the moral of each one is that ignoring boundaries and enabling narcissistic/obsessive behaviour is the path to happily ever after. The woman is routinely gaslighted into believing she had misunderstood who he is so she gives him a chance.

That’s not what happens in real life.  In real life, that leads to serious danger and pain- physical and emotional.

(This is the only way in which feminism has ruined me. I love chick flicks. I’m a sap at heart, but now that I understand power dynamics and healthy vs unhealthy dynamics, I can’t unsee it)

Lemme share an experience I had:

So there’s a guy (J)I used to go to church with. We met on Facebook years ago through a mutual friend who connected us due to our shared love for a certain hockey team (hey we’re Canadian 😉 ). I was just like, “oh. Random guy who likes the same hockey team I do. Okay”.

We friended each other and occasionally commented on posts/pictures but never developed an actual personal relationship.

One day, out of the blue, J messaged me. And we’ve never met at this point – we even lived in different cities and different provinces.

J said that he and a married couple he knows were going on a road trip to the states and asked if I wanted to come with them.

I got weirded out and said, “uhh I don’t know you, and I feel like it’d be very inappropriate for us to take what sounds like a couples trip across the border. So thanks, but no thanks”

He back tracks and says, “ohhh you misunderstood me. It’s a whole group of people going. Of course I wouldn’t just ask you out”

We went back to virtual silence aside from occasional public comments. I thought that awkwardness was behind us. Although he’d occasionally post flirty things on my wall that I ignored.

A year or two later I wind up moving to his city and I started attending his church (most of the people I know in this city attended that church so it was the natural choice for me). And J was dating someone at this point so I was convinced it was done. He not only stopped the awkward flirting, he gave me the cold shoulder when he saw me in person. Wouldn’t acknowledge me if I stood right beside him.

Several months later, I attended a small group meeting that J’s girlfriend had decided to drop in on (Neither J not his girlfriend belonged to my small group, she was friends with the leaders) and I caught her staring at me constantly. I thought I had something on my face and kept trying to find ways to subtly check.

Less than a week later, I found out they broke up because she came to me and she told me they broke up (I thought that was weird because we’d barely ever had a real conversation before) and suddenly became extremely clingy with me and wanted to discuss it and be bffs. I blocked her because it was too much.

And somewhere in there, J unfriended me. We hadn’t talked since before they started dating so that on its own wouldn’t have meant anything to me. But the unfriending and the suddenly clingy ex-girlfriend made me think I was somehow a factor in their breakup. I still don’t understand what happened, and I don’t want to know.<
e waits a few months and refriends me.

And then pretty quickly asks me if I want to go for coffee with him sometime.  I tell him, "no. I'm not interested in dating you and I think if we ever hang out, it needs to be only in group settings"

He said "ohh I agree with you! I wasn't asking you out! I just wanted to get together to plan <mutual friends> birthday party (this particular friend's birthday had taken place weeks earlier). I told him to go talk to the friend's brother if that's what he really wanted and leave me out of it.

Fun fact: I went to my group leader who knew this guy, and told him all of this and how uncomfortable he made me feel. His response? "Well he does seem to be acting a little inappropriately. But he's not a bad guy. Give him a chance!"

If I had not listened to my intuition and given him a chance, I would have ended up in an emotionally abusive situation. Here is a passive aggressive individual who cannot handle rejection or opposition, so his immediate reaction is to gaslight rather than accept what has been said.

That's "a bad guy". That's a very bad and dangerous guy.

And want to hear something really disturbing? He's not the only "creepy guy" in my past I could use as an example. In fact every woman reading this likely has at least one, if not multiple creeps of their own they could talk about.

Wouldn't it be nice if unhealthy/obsessive power dynamics stopped being the romantic example of what we should expect? I'd love to see the day to day model of love become healthy boundaries, respect, and consent (going both ways).

But until that happens: ladies, always listen to your intuition. There are too many creeps out there who think that Hollywood is the expert on relationships.

I love (legally prescribed) drugs

So for those who may not know, I have Fibromyalgia (a chronic pain/sleep disorder). One characteristic of the disorder is insomnia/disordered sleep. It took me years, but I finally found medication that helps me sleep through the night many moons ago. It was a godsend. Insomnia is absolute hell.

I’ve taken it every single night since I was first prescribed this wonder drug over ten years ago (the exception being the one time my doctor asked me to try weaning off the drug as an experiment to see how much it actually helped (pretty sure he was a skeptic), and those nights were hell).

This weekend my boyfriend and I decided to take the weekend and visit LA. I was excited. It was going to be a glorious weekend.

And then we got to the hotel. And I realized that I’d left my medication back at his house. I never forget my medication. I couldn’t believe I’d do that. I was so mad at myself.

Sleep this weekend was awful. I slept. But not long and I didn’t get a great quality of sleep.

The weekend was still glorious and wonderful and I’m so glad we went. More lovely memories created together. But Dear God in Heaven was I tired.

We got back last night. I took my medication and I slept like a rock for 10 beautiful hours without waking once.

I’m a very happy girl today.

The Nashville Statement 2.0

A couple of days ago, I posted my response to the infamous Nashville Statement, I went article by article to discuss how nearly every one had added to or contradicted Scripture. I posted it as a knee jerk reaction and in anger because of the homophobic/transphobic/misogynistic implications therein.

The next day I removed the post. I did this for a couple of reasons:

1) in my anger, I don’t think I expressed myself as well as I’d like. I think it might’ve been easy for someone to misunderstand what I was trying to say.

2) It accomplishes nothing to go point by point. I know the mindset of this community well. No one listens when an argument is presented like that. All it does is become a trigger for a debate. And I’m not interested in debating a single thing. Debates are only good for boosting egos and bullying (“look how soundly I beat that loser! He’s clearly deficient at the arts of thinking and humaning”). They don’t lead to any kind of change in mind or heart.

What I will address is this:

The sum of their argument came down to drawing a line in the sand. They were serious when they said anyone who disagrees with their theology is not to be considered a Christian. Their gospel is built around the condemnation of the LGBTQ community. And those who cannot agree are, to them, damned.

Yes. You read that right. They believe that Jesus died so that we could condemn the LGBTQ community.

This gospel definition was signed by many well known teachers/pastors/authors in evangelicalism. You may want to pause here and check the list of signatories to see who is influencing your soul. You may want to rethink reading that book you’ve got sitting on your bookshelf.

If they want to follow this new gospel, that is their right. They live in a country that allows them religious freedom.

If they want to say I’m not a Christian. Or deny me the right of saying I’m a Christian because I disagree with their gospel, that’s fine too. I do not answer to them. They are not my spiritual leaders. And I will not bow to their heresy.

I’m very okay being told I do not fit in with their idea of Christianity. Because I don’t. And I have no desire too.

Let them smugly draw lines in the sand and add to the gospel things Christ never discussed. Let them set themselves up as the judges of righteousness. They have their reward.

Imma be over here with all the other outcasts and sinners. You know like Jesus said to.