This is not
the only stand I have taken for freedom in my lifetime. I have always been a
champion for those in our society who are not treated equally. I worked
diligently, often at great personal sacrifice, for racial justice, and I marched
in Ireland’s International Women’s March for Peace, but I never dreamed where
this would ultimately lead me.
Several years ago, when a group in
my church began actively seeking to become part of a Reconciling Congregation,
I was eager to participate. We sat around a table lighted with a candle and
shared our stories. I was deeply moved by the emotional experiences of some
when telling that although they had worked in the church all of their lives and
brought up their children in the church, now, because of the sexual orientation
of their children, the church had hurt them deeply, turning its back on their
children. They were no longer welcome.
At that time, I did not know of any
family members who fit into this category, but I felt deep compassion for those
who did. Then, one day several years later, my
telephone rang. It was my precious and only granddaughter, asking to visit
me. Over lunch she turned to me and with tears in her eyes, said, “Nana, what
would you say if I told you I was gay?”
Now, my beloved friends, it is one
thing to fight for justice and acceptance for all gays and others in the LBGT
community in general, but it’s quite another thing to discover that all includes even my beloved granddaughter.
I remembered the spirit of love, acceptance, and compassion Jesus teaches us to
have for all of his children. Jesus goes on to say, “I came to bring the
abundant life to all,” not just some.
Then a year later, again my phone
rang, and I learned of the upcoming marriage of my beautiful, gifted
granddaughter. I was thrilled, for I firmly believe that God had been preparing
me for this happy day all along. I hurried upstairs, picked up the small white
Bible I had carried as a young bride in 1945 and had lovingly prepared to give
to her on her wedding day, along with a tiny, beautifully painted box with a
young girl standing by a lake overlooking a magnificent rainbow. A note on the
box said, “For Hannah on her wedding day.”
On November 15, 2013, I journeyed to
New York City to witness two hearts bound in love, into one life. My only
sadness is that the wedding ceremony could not be performed by her grandfather
in the United Methodist Church that had baptized, nurtured, and shaped my
granddaughter into the amazing and beautiful person she is today.
May that day come soon for others
like Hannah.
