Apr 082015

Lakewood, OH

A couple of weeks ago, at a church in Lakewood, Ohio, a woman stood up during the Q&A time and asked me to talk about our non-profit Together Rising. I smiled and told her that Together Rising is my baby. I told her that besides my family, faith, and sobriety—Together Rising is the greatest gift of my life. I told her that the stories of the warrior families we serve everyday crack my heart open again and again, making my capacity to love bigger and bigger. I told her that the women that make up our Board and our volunteers are my heroes. I told her that I suspect that every word I write is really about Together Rising.

The woman remained standing and then she said, “I suspected you felt that way. If all that is true—why don’t you talk about Together Rising more often? We know there’s so much going on behind the scenes, and we want to hear about it. It matters to us. We want to be IN IT with you.” And the Lakewood audience will tell you that I just stared at her for a long, awkward moment.

Wow, I thought. Why DON’T I write about Together Rising more? I’ve been thinking about that one.

I think I’ve always had this idea that I shouldn’t be loud about what happens at Together Rising. I tell the Board that I want us to be the opposite of what people suspect of non-profits: I want us to be TRUER AND BIGGER AND BETTER in private than we are in public. I just want us to quietly go about doing good. And I am so wary of bragging about do-gooding that I just assumed that the right thing to do was to keep my mouth shut. But I’ve been thinking about that Lakewood warrior, and I think maybe I thought wrong.

Because you guys don’t even know. You don’t know what happens at Together Rising EVERYDAY. EVERYDAY of the year. We all know about the Love Flash Mobs and School Redos and Holiday Hands but those are not even the BEST PART. The best part is the small things with great love that happen everyday. You don’t know about the bills you’ve paid and the tuitions you’ve funded and the lights you’ve kept on and the programs you’ve launched and the children you’ve clothed and the hospital bills you’ve wiped away and the lives you’ve touched and the hope you’ve restored. Miracles happen every day through Together Rising, and I get to see it all—but I haven’t been showing you. I’m sorry about that. That’s going to change. Because Together Rising is the most important, beautiful party I know about and I want this place to be a constant invitation to JOIN—as a giver, receiver—it makes no difference to us because we’ve learned everyone is AND/BOTH. Everyone is a giver and a receiver at the exact same time.

Let’s start here.

A few weeks ago a mama named Clarissa wrote to us and told us that she had entered her son who has special needs into a contest to win a therapy bike. She was about to enter him into a second contest and she wrote to Together Rising to ask if I would promote the contest on Facebook. Clarissa wrote:

“My one and only son Jonathan was born with cerebral palsy, and although he is unable to walk, or speak, he is the epitome of JOY. He has a smile that lights up any room, his joy for life is so contagious, and he is longing for adventure. . . . That is the reason I am writing to you and your Monkees, as a single mom there is only so much I can do for him financially and lately he has been pointing to his cousins’ bike that we keep stored in our garage, as if to say ‘I want to ride a bike.’ Jonathan wants a bike so bad, I can see him riding around with his big smile and the wind in his face.”

The Board looked at the details and we talked about it. And finally, Liz wrote to Jonathan’s Mama and said something like:

“Hello Sweet Warrior, G doesn’t believe in asking her readers to vote. But we believe in you and we believe in your son. Which is why there’s a brand new $6,000 bike on its way to your doorstep right now. It’ll be there in a few days. Don’t enter that contest, mama. You already won. LOVE WINS. ”

And of course Jonathan got his bike. And Clarissa just couldn’t believe it, and she has sent us at least seven thank you notes with pictures and videos—most of her and Jonathan riding their new bike together. Let’s just say we learned that if you want TO GET HER RISING sometimes you gotta get her baby riding. Clarissa can’t believe that people would love them enough to give them this gift. But that’s what we did—all of us—together. Because of course all these thank yous are not just for me or for the people working behind the scenes to make this happen. They are for each and every one of us in this precious community who gave to get Jonathan riding, and To Get Clarissa Rising.

Here they are. Do you believe it? I can’t stand it.

Jonathan & Clarissa

This was the first time for the two of us on the bike together, can you tell how excited we were? What an amazing experience this has been!!
Life is Good!!! You guys are Awesome!!! 
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!

Clarissa & Jonathan 

You guys: stuff like this happens EVERY WEEK. I’m sorry I haven’t been telling you these stories. I’m going to start now.

LOVE YOU. We belong to each other. #togetherrising Tweet: We Belong To Each Other #togetherrising @momastery http://ctt.ec/Flf8N+

G & Together Rising


Carry On, Warrior
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
Join the Momastery community on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest

Apr 062015

 – For Frances –


I’ve been asked these questions so frequently that I compiled a few answers here. Love.

Q: You’ve been vocal in your support of marriage equality even though you are a Christian. Can you talk about that?

Yes. I will, but I do so under protest. It makes me squirm that we are still talking about this, that a straight woman is being asked to discuss whether or not her gay sisters and brothers should or should not be granted their basic civil rights. As if we Christians are the morality police, the gatekeepers for God, the legislative branch of the government, the bosses of the world. My gay friends know they’re fine and good and worthy of their rights even without knowing what I think. Even so – I will share my thoughts here with great anticipation for the Supreme Court’s ruling this summer – after which I hope we’ll need to discuss this less often.

One of the brilliant ideas that launched this country is that religions shouldn’t legislate their interpretations of holy texts to citizens. It doesn’t make sense to me to ignore this very American idea and call ourselves patriotic about it. But if we must, then I wish we Christians could come up with an actual tenant of Christianity to legislate, one that would serve the world – like gleaning or caring for widows and orphans or embracing the alien or turning the other cheek or turning all our weapons into plowshares or giving away our first fruits. I think it says a lot that we choose the rights of homosexuals to obsess over. It feels too easy. I’m not big on faith rules but if I had to choose one – it would be that every person must choose a faith issue upon which to hang her hat that requires HER to change – not somebody else.

It makes no sense to me that my gay friends cannot get married to each other because a certain slice of Christianity doesn’t believe in gay marriage. And let’s be clear, deciding that certain folks can get married and others cannot is not just a symbolic gesture. My married friends and I enjoy a host of government privileges and protections by virtue of being part of a government-approved marital unit. So when we do not support marriage equality, we support the government denying from gay families the rights we claim for ourselves, including rights to hospital visitation and emergency medical decisions; public housing access; certain inheritance rights and tax benefits; the right to residency and family unification under immigration law; and certain social security, retirement and health insurance benefits.

So, the first reason I support marriage equality is that I believe in the separation of church and state. I think if people don’t believe in gay marriage, then mostly they should not get gay married. That should be enough of a stand to take. We should live out our particular brand of faith, sure – but we should never force our brand of faith upon anyone else. All violence starts with the desire to change others and then never, ever ends.

Having said that, I’ll admit that I came to my stand on this “issue” through my faith, not in spite of it. I support equal rights for my gay neighbors not even though I’m a Christian, but BECAUSE I’m a Christian. In the Gospel Jesus makes it crystal clear that if we are going to take seriously only one of his suggestions- we should make it this one: love your neighbor as yourself.

I think there is a big difference between simply loving someone and loving someone as yourself.

For example: when a married Christian says that he loves gay people but can’t support marriage equality, it strikes me as an incomplete kind of love. Because loving your neighbor as you love yourself, I think, must mean that you bestow every right you claim for yourself onto your neighbor. If you are free and you love your neighbor as yourself, you want your neighbor to be free, too. If you claim your right to be married, but deny it to your neighbor, then you are loving your neighbor just a little bit less than you love yourself.

This kind of talk upsets people, which makes me sad because I really, really don’t like to upset people. Upsetting people feels wrong to me. But it feels more wrong to be quiet about freedom matters for fear of upsetting people. I have so many Christian friends who privately disagree with what is being preached from their pulpits about marriage equality, but they stay quiet so they don’t rock the boat. What’s ever going to change if we don’t raise our hands kindly? If our kids see us sitting silently, they’ll never know they have the freedom to ask questions. I get it, though. It’s dangerous to disagree with “the church.” You can get yourself crucified. People never get more riled up then when someone starts talking about God and freedom in the same sentence. It’s like we Christians love the idea of grace, but we don’t want it distributed indiscriminately- we want make rules about it and dole it out carefully and strategically. It’s like we’re worried that if everybody knows that she’s loved and accepted by God – it will be Grace Anarchy! I want that. I want Grace Anarchy. I want people to be free to be who they are. It makes sense to me that the free-er people are, the BETTER people are. I believe in people because I believe in God. I think God knew what God was doing when God made each of us.

Q: And so I suppose you agree that homosexuality is not a choice, then- but an inborn trait?

Yes, of course. Although I have a hunch that our sexual orientation is much more of a sliding scale with lots of grey than most of us are comfortable admitting. I think if we all got a little more cozy with our own grey areas we’d probably be more accepting of the gray in others. So, yes- I believe that gayness or straightness is inborn- but honestly I never understand why that is what we focus on. It makes me uncomfortable when people say: You’re okay because you were born that way. That feels negative to me. Like, it’s okay that you are this weird thing because God made you weird. I don’t love that approach. For me, I don’t care if you’re a woman who wants to marry a woman because you were “born that way” or because you met this one person and everything you previously thought about your sexuality changed in an instant. I don’t care. You are my neighbor and I trust you to choose your life and your love. I’m married and it’s one of the best things to ever happen to me and if you want this wonderful thing too, then I want it for you.

Q: How do you respond when people accuse you of picking and choosing what you believe in the Bible?

Well, that theory suggests that there are two kind of Christians: Those who pick and choose what they follow in the Bible, and those who follow it all. I just tend to think that the two kinds of Christians are: those who admit that they pick and choose what to follow, and those who don’t admit that. For example: most folks reference 1 Corinthians to prove that homosexuality is a sin, while ignoring the fact that the same book of the Bible says that women should wear head coverings and be silent in church. The strange thing is that when I bring that up, people say: well, that was written in a different time. You have to understand the context. It is so strange. Context is allowed to be considered when discussing women (progress! great!) but not when it comes to homosexuality. It doesn’t seem right to pick and choose which scriptures we are permitted to consider the context of and which we are not. As a woman, it is important for me to say: Let’s please not take hold of our freedom, but leave our gay brothers and sisters in prison.  This is like the Bible underground railroad; as the church moves forward and frees oppressed groups one at a time, let each newly freed group go back for those still imprisoned. What good is our freedom if we don’t spend it on those not yet free? Tweet: What good is our freedom if we don't spend it on those not yet free? @momastery http://ctt.ec/6jde1+

Q: How do you interpret the scriptures about homosexuality? 

When these scriptures were written, there was no precedent for monogamous, consensual homosexual relationships. Many theologians agree that the original Hebrew word used here (the one that has been translated again and again by imperfect people) originally referred to the common ancient practice of taking child sex slaves. Many theologians agree that the original scripture writers were referring to child sex slavery as abomination. The abomination here is about abuse of power. It’s about the abomination of people in in power abusing the vulnerable. (Read more about this here.) If you want to fight against the abomination referred to in these scriptures, don’t picket a wedding of two grown people who love each other and want to start a family, join the work of courageous organizations who are fighting the very real abomination of the child sex trade across the world today.

I think that if someone translates scripture to me in a way that seems to rub up against what I know about the God of love, it’s my responsibility to start asking questions. We must work out our own faith with fear and trembling. We need to take scripture seriously enough to look hard and research and ask questions. Every time someone tells me that homosexuals need to repent and leave their life of sin I want to say: but repent means to RETHINK .Why do you read God’s direction to repent and assume God is talking to someone else? What if God is talking to you? What if you are to rethink your ideas of who is in and who is out? I know when I read the direction to repent, I know it’s meant for me. I feel constantly, just constantly, called to rethink. If we live in a constant state of repentance, that means we are always letting go of old ways of thinking to make way for the new. Behold, God says. I am doing a new thing! Repentance is the way of God, which means that if I want to follow God, I can’t cling too tightly to my ideas about God. Ideas and beliefs about God are not God. Opinions and beliefs can become the idols that are hardest to let go. And so faith has to be more of a dance than a checklist.

I’ve had a lot of repentance to do lately. I used to be really angry at Christians who think differently than I do. God is working with me. I am softening. I have many conservative Christian friends who look at all of this differently and I have come to understand that they are good people. They are not hateful, they are just like me: doing the best they can with what they’ve been taught. It’s good to be kind and humble about what we think we know. It’s good to choose mercy over judgement in all cases. I’m working on it. My son said to me recently: “Mom, you’re judgmental too, you just tend to judge judgy people.”  Dangit, I thought. Repent, repent. repent, Glennon. Walk humbly. 

Q: How do you talk to your kids about homosexuality?

Early and often and badly.

Recently my 11-year old and I were talking about this and my five year old walked in and overheard us. She said: “what’s gay?” And Chase said: “Well, it’s like when a girl loves girls more than she loves boys.” And Amma said,” Oh, I’m definitely gay then.” And I thought. Wait, Crap, Well – based on that definition, I might be gay, too. We need to tweak that, maybe.

So we don’t talk about it perfectly. It’s awkward and I’m always certain I’m saying all the wrong things. There’s no script. After one family discussion about sexuality- I called a gay friend and said: “UGH. How do I talk about this? What do I say? I feel so awkward.” And she said, “Well don’t go blaming that on us. You’re awkward about a lot of things.” YES. That’s true, I thought.

But we do talk about sexuality openly and often and we keep two things in mind:

First, we don’t ever assume to know our kids’ orientation. Recently, we were playing the Life board game and when each child landed on the “Get Married” space I was careful to say: “Congratulations! Should I give you a wife peg or a husband peg?”  No assumptions until and unless they talk to us about it.

Secondly, our kids know that homosexuality (or heterosexuality for that matter) is not something to tolerate, but to celebrate. We tolerate traffic jams, we celebrate love and sexuality. They need to know that NOW. I often see loving, wonderful, courageous parents changing their “views” on homosexuality after their child comes out to them. That is some brave progress, and I applaud it, but it’s not ideal. Many of my gay friends tell me they knew they were gay as children, long before they told their parents. How much better for a little one to know he’s ALWAYS been accepted for whoever he turns out to be?

Most importantly, our minister, Dawson (that’s him in the picture up top, officiating a wedding!)  is our good friend and he’s gay- so my kids aren’t growing up with the idea that homosexuality and church are at odds at all. They just see their gay friend wrapped up in a vestment Sunday morning, being his brilliant, divine, human, hilarious self. They just watch Dawson preaching truth and love and freedom and then they feel him placing his hand on their little foreheads and blessing them: in the name of the Father/Mother, Son and Holy Spirit. They feel God through Dawson. So that’s how we “talk” about it. We just love Pastor Dawson and he loves us. And as my kid see our church family not just “accept” pastor Dawson but be led by him — they learn that church is a place for humans to be human, and then love each other in superhuman ways.

We just want to dance in the streets with God and Pastor Dawson.

It will be Grace Anarchy and we will all be free and it will be on Earth as it is in Heaven.



*Comments are closed. I’m certain that most of the conversation here would be loving and thoughtful, but I also know what else to expect. More than I care about creating a dialogue about this, I care that this space remains a safe place to land for LGBTQ people. Feel free to comment on FB or anywhere else on the interwebs. And if you’d like to read more, my friend Jessica wrote an essay ten times more lovely than this one.

Carry On, Warrior
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
Join the Momastery community on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest

 Posted by at 12:09 pm  Comments Off on I Support Your Right to Share My Rights
Apr 032015

Our Easter Story

Originally published in 2013, and excerpted from the
New York Times Bestseller, Carry On, Warrior.

(For S.)

Craig and I sat next to each other at church the next morning and listened to our friend and pastor talk about Easter. She said that for Christians, Easter means that people can rise from the dead, and that relationships can, too. That even the bush that looks withered and brittle and lifeless can bloom, if given enough time, enough tending, enough love. A new season will come. There is always hope. What looks like the end might just be the beginning.

She said that Sunday might be around the corner, but there is no fast-forwarding through Friday and Saturday. The cross has to come before the resurrection. It’s the way of the world. And unless you bear witness to the truth, unless you face it head on and choose to open your heart to the pain, you won’t bear witness to the miracle, either. If you run away from the crucifixion, you might just miss the resurrection.

But I’m learning that the pain, the struggle that comes from the resurrection, can be a long and excruciating process.

We started seeing a therapist, where, one day, not long ago, Craig delivered The News. The News that no spouse ever believes she’ll hear, though so many of us do. The News that our lack of intimacy was due to a major betrayal of our martial vows, long ago and repeatedly. The News confirmed what I had felt all along. It was verification that the distance between our bodies and hearts and minds was real from the beginning. The distance was created by a solid wall of lies built between us. I knew we didn’t have the marriage we wanted and needed, but before The News, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why we couldn’t reach each other. The News opened my eyes wide, and it hurt like hell.

I told Craig to move out of our home immediately and explained that I wouldn’t speak to him until he went did some major work on himself. He did. He was awakened. He decided to fight for our family with his new self. His truthful, out in the light, whole self.

While he was gone, I decided to divorce him. Then I decided to forgive him. Then I decided to kill him. Then I decided to stop deciding things. I am learning to listen to the still, small voice telling me not to run—not today at least—and I am taking each day at a time. One at a time. Carrying on.

I remember what our pastor said about Easter. That even the shriveled, lifeless bush can bloom. That Easter Sunday comes after Saturday; the Resurrection after the Crucifixion.

Craig and I are in the Saturday of our marriage right now. We’ve started the hard work of healing and waiting and grieving and raging and holding each other. When I want to turn away or run away, which is all of the time, I remember what Adrianne told me the night I bought my new bicycle. When you feel like you’re falling, she said, steer into the fall. Lean into it instead of away, and you’ll be all right. My favorite part about life is transformation, and I don’t want to miss Craig’s. As a Zen master once said to Geneen Roth, “Enlightenment is seeing one thing through all the way to the end.”

I read somewhere that God sends us partners who are most likely to help us heal. This rings true to me. It’s just that sometimes the healing is so hard that one or both of the partners can’t take it, so somebody bails, or makes it impossible for the other partner to keep on loving. I understand this completely. Healing is so painful. Thankfully, when we turn away someone who would have helped us heal, God sends us another. I don’t think He punishes us. He gives us lots and lots of tries. God is Forever Tries. Tweet: God is Forever Tries. @momastery http://ctt.ec/3E5ZL+ I think He sends our healing partners in all different forms, not just spouses. He sends sisters, girlfriends, strangers, authors, artists, teachers, therapists, musicians and puppies until one or several partners stick. But if we want redemption, we have to let one stick, eventually. We have to sit through the pain long enough to rise again. Tweet: We have to sit through the pain long enough to rise again. @momastery http://ctt.ec/be2LZ+

Last night Craig and I went out to dinner, just the two of us. We sat down and Craig pulled out a notebook and pen. He said, “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. I want to know everything. Every little thing. And I want you to know me. The real, honest me. We’ll take it slow…. Where were your parents working before you were born? How did they meet again? I’m going to take notes and study them later. I want us to know everything about each other.”

Happy Easter.



Post Script:

On the surface, our Easter story is about the redemption of our marriage, but that’s not the truest story. The truest story is that our Easter is the redemption of me, and the redemption of Craig. Separately and then together.

During the Friday and Saturday of our Easter story, many well-meaning Christians tried to convince me that my marriage was worth saving at any cost. That was not true. Marriages are not worth saving at any cost. People are worth saving at any cost. And God saves, we don’t.

Sometimes when it comes to marriage: Christians forget the message of their leader, which is that as uncomfortable as it makes us—new life often requires a death first. And sometimes that means the death of a marriage. Some relationships are like perennials; they survive the winter and bloom again bigger and fuller than ever. And other loves are annuals. They last for a season and then winter comes and they die and they crumble into the soil making it richer for the next bush to bloom. Either way there is new life. Either way there is redemption and never before seen beauty.

Please know that if there are two paths in front of you—divorce and reconciliation—God is waiting to walk you down either one. The bumps on each path will be different. Each will wind differently. But the end of each path is redemption. You will never be left alone on either path. Because nothing—not death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, (including divorce) will be able to separate you from the love of God.

If your church is more interested in saving your marriage than your soul, raise your hand and ask questions. God loves you more than any institution on Earth, even marriage, even Christianity.

Jesus did not die for your marriage’s redemption, Jesus died for your redemption and the redemption of your partner. Divorced or together, you are already redeemed. It’s finished. Claim your peace. Claim your freedom. Do not be afraid. Because no matter how dark it is now: you will rise again. That’s the way of the world. That’s the message of Easter.

Friday = Life Hurts Like Bloody Hell.


(We like big buts and we cannot lie)


Easter On, Beloveds.

Carry On, Warrior
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
Join the Momastery community on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest

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