I sat down with a barista yesterday and her story broke me.* I asked her permission to share it with you. As I’m typing this in her coffee shop, my sweet friend is giving me free coffee and a grocery bag full of stroopwafels. Lemme just say presence is important, fam, and not just for the free stuff.
*Her name will be changed to honor confidentiality.
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I met Zola in a coffee shop in downtown Yangon. I don’t know why we initially started talking, but she wanted to know all about American quirks. I said it was hard to know them because I probably have all of them and am still working on becoming self-aware to cultural biases. She thought this was funny and we launched into conversation.
Zola is my age, 23, and she speaks four languages: Burmese, English, Karen (the local language of Kayin State, where she’s from), and Thai. I asked how she learned Thai because we had just been to Thailand.
“Oh, my girlfriend lives there! We met here but she’s Thai and moved back home. We are still together.”
I could see she was waiting to see my reaction to her dating a girl, but I didn’t have one, so we moved on.
I asked her how often she worked.
“I work all days except Sunday. Do you know church? I go to church Sunday. I am Christian.”
I laughed and said that I knew church. Very well, actually. She was so excited to hear that we are both Christians. I asked how she heard of Jesus.
“My mother is Christian and my father is Buddhist. When I grew up I had to decide which one, and I prayed to God. Now I pray to God always.”
I asked if all of her family accepted that she was Christian and if she went to church with them.
“I think they like that I am Christian, but I do not know. I had to flee for my life when they found out what I am. I date girls; I do not know how to say in English, but when my family found out, I had to run.”
Years ago Zola fled a hundred miles from home because her parents found out that she’s gay.
“I was the worship leader in my church and they told me to leave. I ran here to find work in the city. I still talk to God, but I don’t know what God thinks of me, of what I am.”
I mean…. my heart dropped to my stomach (anatomically implausible, I know). When people found out about her sexuality, Christian people, they told her to leave. And by doing so they showed her that she’s not worth protecting, nurturing, pursuing, loving, welcoming. That she’s not worthy of God’s love. I was angry and hurt for the broken heart standing in front of me.
“Zola, I’m so sorry people treated you that way. But, can I say, that’s not how God thinks of you.”
Rewind: I met a guy named Zack my freshman year of college. We’re both weirdos from Atlanta and ended up choosing the same major (cheers to the four Worship Min students!). We’ve since stayed the kind of friends who edit each other’s creative blunders, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.
I honestly don’t remember when Zack came out to me, nor do I remember how I reacted. I hope it was good. But I can say that his sexuality never changed our relationship. In fact I think it strengthened it. I got to watch my friend blossom and struggle amidst being a gay ministry student at a small Christian school in the Bible Belt. No easy feat. But the gracious authority he adopted because of it, think a ballerina warrior, continues to inspire me.
Through Zack’s friendship I have seen people change, regardless of where they previously stood in the ethics of Christian homosexuality. I’ve seen a different side of God because of his friendship. And I felt so overwhelmingly equipped to speak truth into my new friend Zola because I felt I was speaking truth into Zack.
“Zola, God loves you. Unconditionally. I don’t know if God minds your sexuality, and if he does, I think he will convict you of it himself. I’ll pray he’ll show you one way or another. But above all, I’ll pray that he’ll show you his love. Because no matter what anyone else says or does to you, God chose you and sees you and loves you. I hope you start to really believe that.”
I don’t know where you stand on this issue, and I truly hope I haven’t offended you past the point of any natural discomfort that comes from disagreement. I have friends who fall on both sides, who both agree and disagree with my personal viewpoint.
I do know everyone can get something beneficial from Zola’s story. How often do we confuse what a person says about us with what God says? How often do we dangerously speak for God, potentially harming someone’s perspective of themselves or of God? I have fallen victim to both.
I’m back with Zola today (I’ve been sitting in her shop going on five hours now), and I’ve loved getting to watch her interact with coworkers and customers. I see God in Zola. And I’m convicted thinking what a sad waste it could have been if I had immediately condescended her due to sexuality. Even if I had never said a word, the “hate the sin, love the sinner” viewpoint naturally distorts the lens through which we see the Zolas, to where we no longer see Zola but what we think Zola should be.
A final thought, if nothing else, please don’t ever let the Zolas and Zacks—and Zekes and Zazus—of the world leave our homes, churches, or coffee shops without feeling lighter and more loved. Sit with them. Give them your opinion if you must, but cloak it always with love.
To my sweet Zola, you have changed me.
