Fun on the Web Weds #2: Love Letters to P*rn Stars

This is the kind of thing that makes me happy. 

Dear Sister,

I’ve been praying for you. I know your life must not be an easy one. I’ve heard that many mistreat you and use you. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take your pain away. Your heart must hurt as much as mine. It’s hard to write this letter, and I pray that God will help me know what to say to you. I hurt every time I see you on a billboard, or online. I hurt when I see your beautiful face in the grocery store.

My heart breaks into a thousand pieces when I think of my husband lusting over your naked & seducing images. I hate that I blame you for so much of my pain. I am working on healing. I am working on forgiving. I am working on loving myself & you the way Christ loves us both. Through Him we can both find that peace that we are already enough. I pray for you often.

I wish I could throw my arms around you, and comfort you in your darkest hours, because I’ve been there too. The pain seems suffocating at times. We really aren’t that different, are we? We both hurt. We are both broken. We both sin. We both want love, not just any love, a pure love, one that will last forever. We both have hopes & dreams. We both have insecurities. We both want more than what we have right now. . . .

Strangers loving on strangers.  Women who have been hurt, who have good reason to be wary of reaching out, yet choosing to focus on the feelings and needs of the women who they could call the enemy.  (And you could read that sentence with "wife" and "p*rn star" interchangably as the subject and object.)  Women choosing to affirm  the self-hood of each other, to admit the pain on both sides, to embrace truth instead of lies, and to live out grace instead of self-focus.

I feel like this is the kind of thing that makes God happy too.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 

On a somewhat related note, guess who came to church a month or so back?

I actually was not at church that day.  But Shelley, our SoulKitchen leader, was giving the message during the service that day, and at the next SK leadership meeting she shared how surreal it was to be talking with this celebrity in the front row.  I guess she was completely blinged out, and had an equally blinged man with her.  It seems Ms. Miller is originally from this area, and her sister lives in Santa Cruz and attends our church (at least sometimes--there are a lot of people I don't know, esp. all the young people who go to the 7 pm service)--and her sister brought her and her boyfriend to church that morning.

I love that!  I love that her sister invited her to church.  I love that a very worldly woman--well-travelled, wealthy, idolized--would say yes.  I love that they sat in the front--I assume not bothered by what anyone would think (and since the 11 am service gets full quickly, maybe those were the only seats left!).  I love that we are a grungy and laid-back body of believers who might have helped this worldly woman feel comfortable--surfers and artists and cool college kids and just enough grey hairs and kids to make the church feel homey.

I wonder though. . . if I had been there, would I have said hello to her?  I always try to say welcoming things to the people I notice, esp. those looking new or on their own.  But I don't necessarily greet couples or threesomes.  And while I did not know who this woman was, would I still have been intimidated by her beauty, her bling, her apparent worldliness, and a possible air of indifference?

I wonder even more--did anybody say hello to her?

So. . . what other people are showing up at our churches and not being welcomed? 

Or what people might show up if they thought they would be welcomed? 

What people is God bringing into my path, on Purpose?

The first time I ever saw a photo of Paris Hilton, I did not know who she was, but my heart instantly broke for her.  It just seemed too apparent in the photo--in an US magazine--that she feels unloved for who she is inside, and uses her body to feel loved.  And it was not a candid photo, that shows a celebrity at her worst--it was an image in which she was posing for the camera.  She was presenting to the world the image she wanted to convey, but what I saw was a girl, hurting.  I vowed to pray for her, and I did, for a long time.  I don't remember to do so very often now.  But the thought that grabbed me, when I saw that photo, is the one that haunts me now: 

Who is praying for her?

Who thinks she is worth it?