As we neared the church, however, our joyful anticipation quickly turned to horror as our eyes began to focus on a pick-up truck, parked sideways, off the road but purposefully obvious, so passerby either direction could view the homemade built up sides of the truck, emblazoned, in all-caps: "NO GAYS!" "GOD HATES HOMOSEXUALITY!" "GAYS WILL BURN IN HELL!" etc., etc. Of course, there were the Bible verses, and also a couple of giant photograph posters of young men kissing, with ugly slash marks crudely painted over their handsome faces. Tim and I were pretty much dry-heaving as we turned to enter the parking lot.
We were late, as usual, so had no time to alert the pastor. Trembling with quiet rage, we took our seats and spied around the room to locate the creepy culprit. Sure enough, to our left was the despicable fellow in a glaringly white sweatshirt, screenprinted both front and back with a huge red circle with a slash across it, over the single word in black, "GAYS".
My eyes scanned the room, from this horrid human being, to an angelic and unassuming friend of ours who happens to struggle with lesbianism.
Looking upon my sweet friend, I lost it.
I was livid.
Now, just so you know, the old, pre-Jesus me would have immediately "thrown down," if you know what I'm saying. I know the pattern well: my face turns hot red, my hands start to shake, and pretty soon somebody goes down. And it's not me.
So my ancient physical mad girl symptoms began manifesting themselves, and I was begging Jesus for help. I leaned over to Tim and whispered, "Do you have a coupla safety pins on ya?" He didn't. I asked him for the car keys.
In the safety of the car, Jesus quieted my soul and, I believe, helped me locate two safety pins, two niced sized pieces of paper, and one black magic marker. (Our car's really messy.) I made a giant circle on each paper, wrote "GLUTTONS" in the middle, and ran the big slash mark across. I pinned one to the front and one to the back of my shirt. Then I slowly and deliberately made the trip back to my seat, to the joyous sounds of our friends' stifled, thankful laughter.
Read the whole post here.