On June 26, 2015, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that “The Fourteenth Amendment requires a State to license a marriage between two people of the same sex and to recognize a marriage between two people of the same sex when their marriage was lawfully licensed and performed out-of-State.” In other words, “liberty for all” officially means “liberty for all.”
It was a great day. The outpouring of love – the congratulatory phone calls, text messages, and SnapChats (#millennialalert) that I received – even though I’m personally nowhere close to getting married myself – were so uplifting and encouraging. My girlfriend received playful text messages from her dad reminding us that we’re too young to get married. One of my best friends received a text from his grandmother saying that she prays that one day he will find love and how happy she is that he will be able to legally marry the person he falls in love with.
But that day was also a hard one. For those of us who do not have supportive families, the bitter absence of their affection said more than a “congratulations” ever could. The hateful tweets and Facebook posts were heartbreaking. And, in the midst of joy, there was pain.
The pain of a family lost and a love lost – a love that one should never have to lose. That day, in the midst of the outpouring of love and support, there was heartbreak. I cried. I cried for the memories of the good times and for the memories I know I’ll never have again. I cried for the pain of those who felt that court case decision had ruined what little chance they had of “rehabilitating” their gay loved one and for the pain of that gay loved one as they experienced a loneliness that was all their own. I know that pain – the lump you get in your throat when your parents are painfully obvious and awkward about not inviting you on family vacation; the lump that rises when you realize they’ve visited the city in which you live but never told you they were there; the painful lump that chokes you when you realize that the family you love has absolutely no idea who you are and no real desire to learn.
It’s taken me a while to write about this, because the last thing I want to do is detract from the joy that came, and should have came, with that court decision. That day was a happy day and I was blessed to be able to spend it with people who love and care about me – regardless of my sexual orientation. I loved walking into a gay marriage celebration with three of the people that mean the most to me. And when someone started praising ObamaCare, I loved that all four of us decided it was time to leave and go watch the soccer game – because one can only handle so many liberals at once.
So please, trust me, I hope that day was a happy one for you. I truly do. It was a happy day for me and many others that I love dearly. But if that celebration of great love was also a reminder of great loss, know that you were not alone. Know that you are not alone.
You have a Savior who promises to never leave you or forsake you. When you turn around and those who have promised to always be there are no longer there – know that He is constant. He will never stop caring; He will never stop loving you. On July 26, 2015, love won. And, in the aftermath of that battle, one day, I will be able to marry the person I love. But 2015 years ago, love won the war when Christ stretched out His arms on Calvary and said “I love you. I will love you despite the scars. I will love you when no one else does. In the good times and the bad, the happy times and the sad – I will be with you. I don’t care about your age, race, gender, social class, or sexual orientation. I care about your soul. My love will not waver, it will never change.”
If you don’t know that love, I hope you will realize that this isn’t empty hyperbole and it’s not a religious or political agenda. It is simply the experience of a broken woman with a broken heart and spirit that Christ has made whole. So celebrate love, love those who love you and love those who don’t. And always remember – Love Wins.