A Mother’s Gratitude- A Love Letter from Holli Carey Long

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Holli and I have had each other’s backs for a few months now. I can’t exactly remember how we came to be friends, but suddenly, there we were, deeply meshed into each other’s communities, only after a few brief interactions! Anyone who has come across her on twitter or her blog will know she is one of the sweetest, most genuine voices out there. I love how, on her About page, she describes herself as “a Mom.  A Wife.  An Educator.  A Christian.  And an Ally. (And yes, those last two are purposely juxtaposed.)” Holli is passionate about loving her LGBT brothers and sisters and it has been a great privilege to engage with her and receive her support when the internet bloodies up my nose.

 

She’s fantastic, is what I’m trying to say. She sent me this letter this morning after the ugliness of TGC’s article, which I won’t link to because I have a feeling they’re loving the traffic. In any case, I need to share it.

You, gay one, need to hear this. You need to drink it in, print it out, put it in your pocket and known that it is True. Know that you are loved. 

 

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Thank you.

 

If I could sum up my feelings towards you, the courageous voices of the LGBT community – you who are my brothers and my sisters in Christ – it would be with these two words.

 

Thank you.

 

There are other words I might choose that weigh equally on my heart:

You are precious.

You are loved.                                                                                 

You are worthy.  

Your story matters.

 

But in this current stage of my life, I cannot help but feel an overwhelming gratitude for you.  For your voices.  For your stories.

You see, I am a mother.  I have two little boys.  Twins, actually.  And they are just two years old and only beginning to emerge as the unique individuals God created them to be.  Much of who they are remains to be uncovered in a story we are eager to read, but we see these glimpses, these miniature previews, each day {each moment} of two amazing souls.  Precious, loved, and worthy.

 

So, to be completely honest with you, my gratitude is selfish.

 

My gratitude is selfish because, when I see you hurt, I see my own children hurting.   When I read your words and hear your voices, I hear in them the future voices of my own grown children.  When I witness the hate and the abuse, I watch as a mother seeing her own child’s heart break in a million pieces, and mine with it.

And I am grateful for this change in perspective that came, for me, with motherhood for it allows me to hear, to listen, better than before.  What was once a nagging whisper has become a deafening roar.   My children, our children, {you} deserve better than what has been endured.

Thank you is not enough, I know.  For there have been far too many lives and souls lost to this battle and for many, this sacrifice has been forced.  Yet, still, I offer my gratitude.

 

Thank you.

 

Thank you for bearing so much of this struggle – this cross if you will.  Not the cross of being who I believe God made you to be as a gay, lesbian, transgender or queer individual, but for bearing the burden of having to prove you are worthy.  To those who speak the truth in love but refuse to listen.  To those who claim a privileged status based on birth, genetics, orientation, or interpretation.   To those who preach and preach and preach at you otherwise.

 

And thank you for doing so with such grace that humanity is taking notice.  Because humanity is taking notice.  I am in debt to you because I believe in the deepest corner of my heart, that my child may never have to face the day when he has to choose between God and the person He created him to be.  And this is because of you.  Because of your story.  Because of your courage.  Because of your faith.

 

Thank you.

…and, I’m sorry.

 

I’m sorry it took me until I became a mother.  I’m sorry I couldn’t speak up and out sooner.   I’m sorry for my selfish reasons for trying now to love better.  I’m sorry for my stumbles along the way.  I’m sorry I will never truly know the hurt.

 

I’m sorry is not enough, I know. Yet, still, I offer my empathy and my word to do better.

For you are loved and precious and worthy and courageous and holy.  And I give thanks for you.

 

Thank you for being you out loud.  We are listening.

 

With all the gratitude in this mother’s heart,

Holli