The following are Lisa and Jan’s respective responses to the above query:

For most of my life, I have been a person who had been limited regarding how much of my true self I could reveal. I lived in shadow until I was freed of the shackles that bound me in so many ways. When I could finally express my true self without doubts and without fear of reprisal or judgment, I discovered how deep love could really be and just how much better life is with the knowledge of being loved unconditionally.
This recognition also brings the awareness of how privileged I now am to be in community with so many people who also love and accept unconditionally the person I am: my wife most of all, the community of F/friends, my school/work community, and other friends whom I trust and love.
As wonderful as it feels, it also gives me a responsibility to make sure others are also made aware of the inclusivity I experience and that, perhaps, they can also come to experience and/or offer to others in their lives. This is most often brought forward in ministry with my students wherein I listen for any lack of inclusivity among students and try to move them into a space where they can feel safe and thus keep from placing limits on their peers (or anyone for that matter). There are so many obstacles to reaching this mindset as a nation as well as among specific groups. The only thing I/we can do is to shift limited perspectives into open dialogue and acceptance wherever we go and in whatever circumstances we find ourselves.
Lisa Erazmus

For me, “normal” appears one way in my home, looks different outside the door, and is barely represented in widespread media and literature. Even among Friends, I have found a range in my sense of belonging where I am sometimes more welcome as queer than Christian. But just like in the wider world, there have always been pockets of safe havens where love was the parameter that invited and bound me to this community for the long haul. I recently read an article that told of the harassment and oppressive tactics used by the religious authorities of a faith-based college to coerce students into conformity, where clergy, friends, and lovers were expected to expose those they knew or even suspected of veering from the prescribed moral code. This extended into blackmail, of course, in order to keep people in ‘relationships’ that essentially became sexual servitude. Ugh-religion, power, position-the idea of shaming (denying) love sitting so comfortably as a tenet of faith is sickening.
So, to my mind, the idea of denying love is akin to denying God, thus the creation of shadow. If the underlying sense of normal can be defined as ‘ubi caritas’, in its simplest form meaning ‘where there is love, there is God’, then love is key to a world where inclusion doesn’t need to be on offer. If I consider myself created in the image of God, then who I am in my own skin reflects the authenticity of my choices, desires, and evolution at present. I think being available to God and others calls us to be aware of and speak to the diverse nature within all of us, whether it manifests in a gender or sexual fluidity, belief system, or faith expression, and being comfortable with that is a process of growth, understanding, and Spirit.
Jan Dahm