#revoice18

First of I-don’t-know-how-many blog posts of my experience last week in St. Louis, MO. If you’ve never heard of Revoice Conference, it’s a safe space that  supports, encourages, and empowers gay, lesbian, same-sex-attracted, and other LGBT Christians so they can flourish while observing the historic, Christian doctrine of marriage and sexuality. It’s the first time in human history that “Side B” Christians from all over the world can gather to worship, to fellowship, and to learn from one another. This event really means a lot to me. I wish I had this 8 years ago when I was a closeted Christian! Although my experience as a gay Christian was mostly positive, I met dozens of Christians who either were closeted or rejected by their churches. Revoice was a powerful space to let us all worship in peace. Before I go into the details of the conference, I want my readers to recognize the scope:

This map represents everyone I met at Revoice off the top of my head. Some of these places are very friendly towards LGBT and SSA people. Some are not. Most of these Christians have dedicated their lives to celibacy, in gratitude of their new lives in Christ. Yet some still are misunderstood by their Christian brothers and sisters, with whom they wish to walk along side as they strive to live for Jesus. Oh how good it is On this journey we share To rejoice with the happy And weep with those who mourn.

(lyrics from “Oh How Good”)

Those few days I was able to rejoice with those who were able to worship as they are, and I couldn’t help but weep with those who had to hide themselves from their families. (Real tears!)

So last year I excitedly made my way to the very first Revoice conference. I was more confident than my expedition to the retreat and even more excited to see familiar faces as well as put voices to friends from our group. As I walked into the little church for our preconference those of us that knew each other greeted each other with smiles and embraces. Later me and 15 other friends met together in the house we would share that weekend. That night you could feel the awe and excitement in the air as 450 participants packed ourselves into Memorial Presbyterian Church. We were almost in shock and as a friend put it,"the family reunion that we didn't know we needed." We came together to tend to parts of our lives that we had been told weren't supposed to exist. Putting it lightly, it was amazing.

Yet, with all that being said, it still triggered my first full blown anxiety attack. By the afternoon of the last day I was already noticing that I wasn't exactly feeling 100%, but there was just so much going on that I couldn't put my finger on it. I had nearly lost my appetite and my stomach was in knots. The service and the worship that night was great and I cried and I figured that was all I needed. So I went out one last time and had fun with my friends and said my good-byes. I woke up and made my way to the airport feeling just fine, but as I headed to my plane it all came rushing back. I was exhausted and slept on the airport floor as I waited that afternoon for my second plane. I tried journaling and I processed and I thought until I couldn't anymore. I got home, showered, watched some tv, drank some tea, and then I just fell apart. I couldn't shake whatever I was feeling. I even videoed myself trying to figure out what was wrong while in tears and sent it to the group of us that had gone to revoice. The whole conference was as sensory overload for me - emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. Over time I worked up my strength and I felt better, but I felt weighted and tired in a way that I couldn't decyfer or get rid of. Then months later, the Urbana missions conference seemed to just fall out of the sky.