Once Upon a Time in My Oceania

This piece isn't a theology debate to try and change your mind on LGBTQ rights. It's not even necessarily a conversation starter on the issue. No, it's just a simple post on how sometimes love becomes stronger after years of hate. It's about choosing love when hate hurts your soul. This is just me sharing a bit of my heart with this post. If you asked those closest to me what is something I am passionate about, it's likely you would hear something along the lines of seeing the world through a more logical lense. The thing is they would also likely add doing this passionately...which is where my putting "logic" into practice can look more like diving head first in understanding something I will soon become passionate about. The thing is this process can very much be a gradual occurrence. Even years in the making. It was this pattern that becoming LGBTQ Affirming came about. First, I did not know whether I believed "homosexuality" was a

My past faith was a hateful one, and, it taught me that to hate was not only sometimes necessary, it was holy. A holy hate could look like many things; in some cases, it was quite obvious, but other times, subtle. I know my experiences with the Independent Fundamental Baptist Church wasn't just an isolated experience. It is no big secret, at least among formers, that racism is alive and well in the movement. Whether it was the strict rules and bans on interracial dating, or the very limited leadership roles for people of color, covert racism was a constant undertone. Not always was the racism covert, however. Bob Jones University, among many other IFB colleges, had strict rules in regards to race and their students. Then, there was J. Frank Norris regarded as the Father of Fundamentalism and the founder of the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement. Norris had known connections to the Ku Klux Klan's top leader of that time in Texas, with the man receiving The Klan'