Andrew and I watch a lot of varied movies, sci fi, drama, action, you name it, we like a lot of it.

But I'm reluctant to watch certain genres, horror and some kinds of suspense, as I'm sensitive and have nightmares. Andrew and Sofi have gotten me to step out in the last few days as they claim they need some more scarier movies in their lives, and I've boldly gone where I've not really gone before.

Much as I'd hate to admit it, I've actually found it very cathartic and enjoyable in a very different way. We watched, the three of us, the Night of the Living Dead. The ending I was unhappy about, but the cinematography, the fascination that in 1968 there was an amaing African American male lead, and also that this was filmed in Butler county, where my mom and her sisters grew up, and where my grandparents are now buried. The house felt like my great grandmothers house and it felt like a familiar area in so many ways, that I found myself engrossed in yes, even classic horror.

I watched another much newer series with Andrew the other night, The Penguin starring a completely unrecognizable Colin Farrel, and the side story of his female sidekick throughouly engrossed me. I won't spoil it, but one of the themes in her life is that she saw too much and was horrifically silenced by her own father and family, and eventually they paid the price.

Her brother tries repeatedly to rescue her and the love they have for each other is incredibly evident. I've been fascinated by the way that only every once in a while does Hollywood get brother/sister relationships right. So much is romance is obessed over, or friendships good and bad, that the vital brother/sister relationships get ignored. I've enjoyed some recent refelections in both The Penguin and Vikings Valhalla that get them right.

In my life journey, I have learned what it feels like to pressured into silence. I have gotten into trouble for "saying too much"or being myself too much out loud, and recently I've come to the conclusion that if I am silent or I am not, it is my choice and not due to the societal pressure to remain silent. Victims often do stay silent and this element is often much more painful than whatever they have actually experienced.

I am not a victim. This does not mean I am untouched by abuse. I have never experience true physical abuse, but rather I do believe I have felt emotionally and spiritually abused by others in my life as they have deemed me to be "not enough" and/or "not correct"in how I walk, live and protray myself.

I could, perhaps walk in a victim mentality, and say, woe is me, and these last year of blogging, I have tried my darndest to expose my pain and suffering and process through it, but at the same time, not have a woe is me attitude, which is so easy to do, to find comfort through this victimhood that so many people can carry.

On the converse side, I do not wish to dismiss that I have experience pain, and abuse. This would be denial and would continue to hurt me, which would influence not only my own life, but those around me.

If I am silent about details and situation and persons, it is not because I am silenced, but that I believe in being silent I am protecting myself and not making a situation worse than it already is. If I am silent, It is because I believe my words and my saying them may never be properly heard, and would be wasted breath. To quote the old scripture, I refuse to throw my pearls of value before swine to be consumed without thought.

I am a solid believer in the element that grace is born through violence. We know forgiveness because of His sacrfice, we understand love because He stood in our place. We know of mercy when justice could have been demanded but peace instead was granted. Violence plays a role in our lives that we do not understand and may never comprehend, and maybe we must live in the lament, but then we can be renewed in redemption while we long for grace and reconicilliation.

Recently I have meditated on the idea of taking up your cross and following after Jesus. I used to think that the cross was something differnt, perhaps we were taught incorrectly that it was our own sin we had to pick up and lug around. But somehow, I understand differntly now.

My cross is that many people have rejected me and my husband because we refuse to conform the ideals that other put on us, but rather we understand that love is love, and that our job is to love people as best as we can. They will reject us for it, they will condemn us for not following their rules, but in the end, they will have to be confronted with the truth and love that we live in to the best of our abilities.

What does this mean? I've had friends that realized they couldn't return this love, and just stop calling.

I've had friends confronted with this love, realize that they didn't have integrity, and walk away. This part of the cross we carry is heavy.

And on the plus side, I've had friends and family understand that I love, and its not my place to judge, tell them what to say, think, believe, vote, or who to love and they call me. They come watch movies with me and Andrew, they invite us to lunch (invite in Spanish means they pay!) they ask us for help, they cry on our shoulders, they lift us up when we are down, they are offended on our behalf for us, they tell us we are brave, and we tell them they lovely. And this, this part of thc cross we carry is one of the heaviest and happiest joys that we experience every.single.day.

On this, I will refuse to stay silent. Love is love, and when it reachest the darkest, deepest parts of the soul, it is transforming, and all I can do, is the best I can, and wait for it to work. And follow Him.