As many communities around our nation continue to take a stand for their beliefs, I would like to share some context behind my own stances.

First, I am vaccinated. I also wear a mask, though not all the time.

Noting the above I would like to add that I also stand with the group of people who feel their “right to choose” has been stripped away — workers, educators that have been required to become vaccinated and students that want to be maskless while in school; and customers who want to visit their favorite restaurant without having to flash a vaccine card or negative COVID test. I hear you.

How do I balance these seemingly opposing beliefs? Well, it helps that these beliefs, at least for me, are not political, and don’t align with any particular party or platform.

Instead, they’re rooted in the church and my faith — which are, in my perspective, two different things.

The church. In my younger years church was a building where I went to Sunday school to play with friends and learn about the Bible. We attended church at least two to three times a week. In my childhood I enjoyed learning about Jesus, Sarah and Abraham, Jonah and the whale, Noah’s Ark, King David, etc.; these stories ignited my pursuit to establish my beliefs and faith. And, along this journey in learning about Jesus, attending church and making friends, two words became synonymous for me; hurt and people.

I was only ten years old when the abuse began. A member of the church and “family friend” began grooming me for what would be years of sexual, mental and emotional abuse. As I look back on these years of my childhood and adolescence, I never stopped going to church. However, I developed a numbness for what church represented in my life. I attended with reservation and became resistant to the concepts that were being preached from the platform. Church was no longer a place of safety for me. The church became a place of hurt, bitterness, pain and the foundation of my insecurities. These were the ideas I had been partnering with for a majority of my life.

As I journeyed into adulthood, the suppressed memories of hurt, pain, and unforgiveness began surfacing. I had a decision to make. Leave and blame the church or learn how to walk in forgiveness. In full transparency, I blamed the church in silence, even while I thought I had forgiven. My silence kept me bound. Silence is like a cloak, it will hide your true intentions, only until it falls off. Once the cloak comes off, you won’t recognize the person reflected in the mirror. I never spoke a word about what I had been harboring within. This led to continual dysfunction in every area of my life. This dysfunctional thinking led to my own demise.

I realized that the true source of hurt was never the church or its people: it was a person. A person I had to choose to forgive. Recall in my introduction column I wrote, “freedom does not exist in the weight of unforgiveness. Freedom, true freedom, is when you can walk in forgiveness and in grace. Making a choice everyday, to begin fresh.” This has been my daily motto. Forgiveness is a choice.

Even more recently, I’ve recognized that while there are many who have their own perspective about who I am and how I utilize my platform in or outside of the church, there are only two perspectives I am heedful of: Jesus and my family. So long as I keep those perspectives in focus, I can’t lose my way.

My faith. This is separate from the church, in that the church is merely a place where people gather to worship. That part of my faith is extremely important to me, but it is not necessary for me to act out my faith. In fact, I feel comfortable saying that sometimes, church can get in the way of me acting out my faith, as is evidenced when my church became the place of my childhood trauma.

So instead of rooting my faith in church, it’s instead rooted in embracing the Word of God: My daily prayers are centered around healing, Matthew 4:22-24; To be held blameless and to hold others blameless, Philippians 2:14-16; I choose to be forgiven and extend forgiveness, Psalms 130:3-5; I own my insecurities and know that my security is found in the Lord Jesus Christ, Jeremiah 17:6-8.

My faith is not and was not built through other people or the body of a church. The sustainability of my faith comes from personal investment into hearing, knowing, and actionizing the grace and mercy of Jesus. My faith is a choice.

My stances. And through that faith, through the freedom I find through the Word of God, I am able to make the decisions to wear a mask and get vaccinated, as well as stand with those that feel the government is taking away their own power of choice.

This freedom does not and should not inhibit my ability to acknowledge and be aware of others’ deeply held perspectives.

That is my ultimate stance. With all the noise of today’s world issues, I have sought counsel, I have searched the Bible and I find the same message. Love regardless. I choose to love, regardless.

Most recently, I have observed that being a part of the church congregation and standing firm in my faith, there are truths that I must accept. We are all humans and we all “miss the mark” sometimes. We have experienced life differently. Each of us is in a different season of challenges, decisions, truths and hurts. My convictions will not be your convictions. There is beauty in the variety of journeys. Knowing that as a part of a “church”, I can embrace you, support you, love you, regardless of where you find yourself in life. We may have different opinions and perspectives and we serve the same God. The same God that was slain for me, was slain for you. This is the church I want to be a part of. This is the person I want to be. This is my choice and my stand. Loving you, regardless.