Faith and Love

After almost five years of long-distance bliss*, we are finally doing it: the Intern I are creating a home together. I am excited. And terrified. And excited again.

We are starting a life together. We are taking on the world together. We are taking on community together. We are taking on faith together. And that's a whole 'nother conversation since I am finding myself less and less interested in Jesus and more interested in the Father. I already practice the Sabbath with regularity. I am just a few steps from turning Jewish. But for now I am, like Anne Lammot, Christian-ish. I find this troubling. I think she should be freaking out about unequally yoking herself to me for the rest of her life.

But she thinks it's fine. Faith is a journey, she says. You're right, Jesus is ridiculous, she says, but I think you mean the deity of Jesus is ridiculous. She reminds me that my understanding of the world is rooted in my understanding of the supernatural. She stands in her faith and moves through the world in a way that amazes me.

I guess I was right the first time around to love living with her. The corners of my vision still get all fuzzy when she enters a room, and I still feel right at home in her presence and in her arms. And she still loves me even though I think Jesus is ridiculous.


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*This is a rather loose translation. The beginning bits of our relationship were fraught with self-loathing and indecision. Internalized self-hatred will do that to a person. Thank God homophobia is a curable ailment. . . at least in our cases. And thank God for friends who listened to all of my angst and foolishness with patience, grace, and well-veiled eye-rolling.