the reason I got married

Graduating from college and not finding a professional position is enough to knock both feet out from under anyone. I fell flat on my back, completely disconcerted and eventually depressed.

Living in Buffalo, most of my friends lived 900 miles away and most of my family lay 700 miles farther than that. I cut my world into strips and tied them all around Zach. Whenever he left on a long weekend for his job, my world fell to the floor like a pile of rags. I had an unhealthy dependence.

On October 21st, 2009, Zach received an email from his boss, stating that I needed to move out immediately. Zach worked for a church, so it makes sense. Obviously a woman couldn't live with the youth minister unless they were married. I should have expected something like that.

In good light, that email was written out of sincere concern for the kids in Zach's youth group and the example he was setting. But turn off the lamp and you can see the shadows (of judgment, condemnation, and meddling in people's personal lives).

The day after the eviction notice via email, we got married.

It started out with a "we're stickin' it to the man" sort of energy and ended up with me sobbing out my vows at the courthouse in Cleveland, Ohio. I love Zach. I have never regretted marrying him. But I still cringe when people ask me why we got married after only dating for six months.

Last week I had a long conversation with a good friend of mine. He works for the biggest peace lobbyist on Capital Hill. He has dedicated his life to peacemaking, creating a fair and balanced world, serving those in need, and working to end poverty. He is one of the people I admire most in life.

This friend of mine got engaged in July and a month later, when he was still glowing with happiness about his engagement, he received a phone call from a church apostle. His priesthood is under review by the presidency of the church. Waves of anger and sadness washed over me when he told me this. I knew the only reason he received that call was because of the gender of his fiance. My mind started screaming, "Oh really? Well, great! Of course now that they know he's in a balanced, supportive, and loving relationship, certainly they would question his ability to minister to people. His sexuality obviously invalidates all of his Christ-like qualities. Why didn't I think of that?"

I'm just so done.

Done with politics,

the condemning emails and phone calls,

the "Priesthood Club" for exclusive members only...

If people believe in a loving god,

why don't churches reflect that?