I worshipped in an evangelical church this morning. Like at hundreds of these windowless megachurches across the nation, the song lyrics came up on the screen. I stood, singing in the dark. The music rose from the drums, keyboard and guitars at decibels that enveloped the congregation and ushered each of us to the throne of the Almighty. I stood with tears running down my face, belting out the words to “King of My Heart” by John Mark and Sarah McMillan. May the King of my heart be the wind inside my sails, the anchor in the waves. Yes, He is my song. You are good, good, ohhh.
This is a typical Sunday morning in the kind of church that I attend, but there is nothing standard about my attendance. Today, I picked a church just large enough so that I could go in anonymity. I slip in just before it starts and go directly to the door and out into the parking lot at the end of the final song. I do not dare to stop at the booths that line the hallway asking for new members to join “life groups,” or new volunteers for outreach—if I did, someone might discover my weakness. If I did, someone might get to know who I really am. I have picked this church because I know that at least for a few weeks I will not be asked my name or noticed as a new attendee. In this church I can meet my God as the dark sanctuary welcomes me. Those around me don’t know my story; I am just one of the many who lift their hands to the wonderful Savior of the world. You are good, good, ohh.
What if I weren’t a stranger? What if they knew my story? Past experience predicts that this would be the beginning of the end. I am not like the rest. A lesbian by birth and a child of God by second birth, I believe in the God of the Bible. I believe He loves me and died for me just like everyone else in the dark room where I stood this morning. But if they knew, I would not be fully accepted. However, this does not deter me. You are good, good, ohh.
If they knew, I would not be fully accepted.
May the king of my heart, be the fire inside my veins, oh He is my song. There is so much misunderstanding, so much bigotry; there are so many reasons for those who have been mistreated by other Christians to reach toward bitterness. And yet, you, God, You are good, good, ohh.
The Apostle Paul’s words in Romans 8:38-39 speak truth to all who are loved of God. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither angels nor demons, neither height nor depth, nor other Christians, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
What will matter at the end of my life? Will it be the opinions of others, or the thoughts of my heavenly Father?
May the King of my heart be the fire inside my veins, the echo of my days. Oh, He is my song. You are good, good, ohh.
Sue Gilmore is Vice President and Regional Manager for one of the largest title insurance companies in the nation. She is the author of The Peace Seeker, a memoir that attempts to bring awareness about sexual orientation to the church.
