Power of Manifestation and Our Gender Reveal

Last month I attended a breakfast where a motivational speaker taught us about the Power of Manifestation. For anyone who may be wondering what in the world that is, here’s the Google Def. : is being able to harness your true destinies and desires in life-subconsciously put into vision, and then into reality. Everything you want of the universe is already yours-the clearer your thoughts and thinking on the matter, the more timely and precise the delivery will come.

My whole adult life, when I was asked by someone how many kids I wanted, the answer was always four kids - two girls and two boys. I’ve always said it confidently and believing it will happen. So when I was reminded about the power of manifestation concept last month, I realized I can put it to the test when I find out the gender of this fourth baby I’m carrying (already having two girls and one boy, I was still on track to be manifesting my desires).

Well, yesterday we found out the gender, and lo and behold, we’re having a GIRL. I was mostly surprised that the power of manifestation has failed me and I couldn’t understand how that was possible since I know I had done it how it’s described, by the book (without even realizing or being educated on the matter).

So I am open now to the belief that this power may either be garbage (what my dear husband has often times said to me), or that there are some things set in stone, maybe even before the world was made, that no matter how hard you try to manifest one way, it will still happen the way God has intended it.

I’ve also learned that there are some things in life, such as your kids gender, that is better left up to chance rather that become too committed to a certain outcome.

Either way, I’ve gotten more excited to having another little girl by the minute, and I am curious to see how different she will be from her sisters. (Adaline has wanted a girl from the get go, and Emilia is still in shock we’re having a girl and not a boy – this is due to me brainwashing her, we’d never discuss any girls names, but would quickly switch to boys only.) And Ellis is oblivious, probably glad he won’t be dethroned.

Gherghina Alecu - A Good Bye for Now!

There are some defining moments in life which allow you to feel the depth of the human experience and help you feel what you are made of. One such moment was when my grandpa passed away in 2013, and a second one is now, when his wife and my grandma left us on January 13^th, 2020.

I knew she was in critical condition for almost two weeks, and I even tried to prepare myself by feeling some of that sadness throughout that time. And as I felt sad for her poor condition and the amount of pain she was in, I couldn’t feel much passed that.

As soon as my father called me from Romania and told me she had passed away, a whole lot of feelings overcame me. I don’t think we can feel the true loss of someone until they’re actually gone. Until you know there is no coming back and no way to hear and hug them again. When still alive I could see some of her flaws easily, but after the news none of that mattered or defined her in anyway anymore. It’s incredible how our perspective changes so suddenly.

She was born on January 27^th 1942. She is the last of four daughters to pass away. She had four children – two living by her, the other two being abroad. She had eight grandchildren – two living by her, the others living in America, Germany and Austria. And 12 great-grandchildren – only one living in the same country with her.

My grandma offered me so much! First six years of my life we lived with my grandparents and being their first grandchild, she has embraced me and cared for me as of one of her own. I was more connected to her and bonded more with her than I did with my mom those first years of life. She had an inch and a half scar on her arm, and she used to tell me that I was her daughter and that I came out through that, and I had left that scar. I’m pretty sure I believed her many of the times she said that.

Looking back, I should have known she wasn’t my mom, because I couldn’t do anything wrong for her, like EVER. She never got me in trouble and she always encouraged all my desires. Not a mom behavior! That treatment continued for the rest of my life. I remember being annoyed at gaining weight as a teenager, and when she saw me first thing she’d say is that I was so beautiful, and if I said that I was bigger, she’d reply that it looked good on me.

I’m sad she’s gone, but I’m happy for her. For her to be released from all the physical pains and from a broken body, as well as her loneliness which she had suffered much from her last years of life. And I’m even more glad that by divine inspiration I got the itch back in Nov. to go see her, I felt that urge not having any reasons at the time. I’m glad I was able to act on it and be around for a week, and for her to meet my son. 

I remember when I said good-bye on the day of Nov. 19, 2019 that I tried to make it quick because I felt that I would never see her again. That was the first time I felt that towards someone so close, and it broke my heart. It broke my heart even more because I saw it in her eyes that she felt it too. And yes, I will never see her again in this life, but I hope and have faith to see her again AFTER this life.  

Gherghina Alecu - Un ramas bun pentru acum!

Există momente definitorii în viață care ne permit să simțim profunzimea experienței umane și ne ajută să simțim din ce suntem făcuti. Un astfel de moment a fost când bunicul meu a murit în 2013, iar un al doilea este acum, când soția sa și bunica noastră ne-a părăsit pe 13 ianuarie 2020.

Știam că era în stare critică aproape de două săptămâni și chiar am încercat să mă pregătesc simțind o parte din acea tristețe în tot acest timp. Și, desi m-am simțit tristă pentru starea ei de sanatate rea și pentru durerea în care era, nu am putut să simt prea mult.

Imediat ce tatăl meu m-a sunat din România și mi-a spus că a murit, o mulțime de sentimente m-au biruit. Nu cred că putem simți cu adevărat pierderea cuiva până când nu sunt plecati definitiv. Până când nu ști că nu există nici o revenire și nici o cale de a-i auzi și îmbrățișa din nou. Când încă era în viață, am putut vedea ușor unele dintre defectele ei, dar după aceasta veste, nu au mai contat, si nici nu au mai definit-o. Este incredibil cum ni se poate schima perspectiva noastră atât de brusc.

Bunica mea s-a născut pe 27 ianuarie 1942. Este ultima dintre patru fiice care a murit. Avea patru copii - doi locuiau lângă ea, ceilalți doi fiind plecați în străinătate. Avea opt nepoți - doi locuiau lângă ea, ceilalți locuind în America, Germania și Austria. Și 12 strănepoți - doar unul care locuia în aceeași țară cu ea.

Bunica mi-a oferit atât de mult! Primii șase ani din viață am trăit cu bunicii mei și fiind primul lor nepot, ea m-a îmbrățișat și m-a îngrijit ca pe unul dintre copiii ei. Am fost mai legata de ea și mai apropiata decât eram cu mama mea în acești primii ani de viață. Avea o cicatrice de doi centimetri pe braț și îmi spunea că eu sunt fata ei și că am ieșit prin gaura aia și am lăsat acea cicatrice. Sunt destul de sigura că am crezut-o de multe ori cand imi spunea asta.

Privind în urmă, ar fi trebuit să știu că nu era mama mea, pentru că nu puteam face nimic rău pentru ea, NICIODATĂ. Nu m-a disciplinat niciodata și mi-a încurajat mereu toate dorințele. Nefiind un comportament de mamă! Acest tratament a continuat tot restul vieții. Îmi amintesc că ma enervam cand luam in greutate ca adolescenta, iar când ma vedea primul lucru, imi spunea că sunt atât de frumoasă și, dacă ziceam că sunt mai grasa, imi răspundea că arăta bine pe mine.

Sunt trista că a plecat, dar sunt fericită pentru ea. Pentru ca ea să fie eliberată de toate durerile fizice și de un corp invalid, precum și de singurătatea ei, de care a suferit mult ultimii ani din viață. Și mă bucur și mai mult că, prin inspirație divină, am primit imboldul în noiembrie pentru a merge să o văd, am simțit acea dorință desi nu aveam motive la acea vreme. Mă bucur că am reușit să acționez și să fiu în prejma timp de o săptămână și ca ea sa-l cunoasca pe fiul meu.

Îmi amintesc când mi-am luat rămas bun în ziua de 19 noiembrie 2019, că am încercat să fac asta cat mai repede, deoarece am simțit că nu o voi mai vedea din nou. Aceasta a fost prima dată când am simțit asta față de cineva atât de aproape și mi-a rupt inima. Mi-a rupt inima și mai mult pentru că am văzut în ochii ei că și ea a simțit-o. Și da, nu o voi mai vedea niciodată în viața asta, dar sper și am credință să o văd din nou DUPĂ această viață.

Ellis Ethan Kirk - Birth story

I can hardly believe that here I am ready to write the birth story of my third child and first boy!
Ellis Ethan Kirk was due to be born on May 15th, but this pregnancy felt much tougher than the previous ones and I was visibly bigger with him that I was really hoping he'd follow in his sisters' footsteps and come 5-6 days early.

He was kind enough to do so. But the trick was to also not be born on Emi's birthday, on May 9th, because she is all abt her birthday and we didn't think she'd like to share that day with anyone.
So on May 9th things went as planned, we celebrated Emilia as planned for. Until dinner time that was, when we went to a restaurant to celebrate her and I started feeling my first contraction. More have followed and we decided to take the girls home and leave them with my mom who had arrived in town the day before (she has great timing on these things, same thing happened when I had Emi).

We went to the hospital around 8:00 pm as we didn't want to wait at home too long (Addie was born pretty fast and we didn't want to take that risk). But almost as soon as we got to the hospital my contractions just about stopped, and we couldn't even leave before an hour from arrival so they could run more tests. At 9:00 pm we left to come home and wait some more. That was a good move as Ethan was able to get more sleep, not me though. And I could have really used some, as the night before, when my mom got into town we stayed up until 3:00 am (not a smart move at all, had I known I wouldn't get any sleep for the next 35+ hours).

But I ended up eating seeds and talking with my mom as contractions started to be closer and stronger. Then I tried to lie in bed for some rest, but I was reacting to each contraction, and that's when Ethan woke up and said we should head back to the hospital. I thought we could wait some more, but he insisted we left then.

When I was checked I was still at a 3 cm dilatation, same I had been all day, but they took me (they had better, it was 3:00 am by then). The midwife also came in, and this was my first time being seen and delivering with midwives. And they have definitely exceeded my expectations. First of all, they were with me the whole time, I expected her to leave the room as docs always do, but she was just waiting there with me (which at first made me feel a bit pressured to move along faster), and then she asked if I wanted help when I felt the contractions, and she started putting pressure on certain points depending on my position. That helped a lot actually, and then morally it also helped to have someone involved at that level. She knew I didn't want a medicated birth and helped me progress and work through the pain all along.

But after two or so hours I was still a 3-4 cm dilated and no water rupture so she asked if I wanted my water broken. My first thought was no, cause I didn't want to mess with the course of things, but I also wanted things to start moving along considering how painful the contractions were at that point. So around 5:45 am she broke my water, and she noticed he had pooped inside, and that motivated me to work through the pain and keep progressing.

My first midwife's shift ended at 7:00 am and although I had hoped he'd come during her shift (she told me the next midwife although qualified for deliveries, wasn't yet fully certified as a midwife, and I thought, oh great, what if she won't be as good as her). But the next one was also very hands on, helping me, she was skinny and couldn't put as much pressure during the contractions as the first one did, but she talked to me and that was soothing.

When I got to a 6 cm I really started hurting like nothing I've felt before, and within the hour I got to a 10. I kept feeling that it was humanly impossible the pain I was going through and when will it end. I also threw up three times (usually my quota is twice) I screamed like never before, poor Ethan he was of course present through it all, the medical staff had to pin me down and tell me to stop yelling and focus all the pain. Which I tried doing, and that's when I pushed with my whole strength once, and I guess his head came out but was stuck on his shoulder, and then I had to push again. The sensation was as if my body was coming inside out, and I was yelling to just pull him out because I couldn't do it, but low and behold I did do it. He was born at 8:14 am on May 10th.

I didn't experience a high, I think I was too traumatized from all the pain. Then passing the placenta was way more painful than the times before, and so was the stitching. I hate that part almost more than the delivery.

It was my first time I had actually questioned my decision of going without an epidural. I don't think I was mentally as prepared as my first delivery. I think I had assumed since I had done it twice that I had this one too, but it was about a third if not more, more painful and more intense. I thought I had gone through what was humanly impossible pain my two previous times, but it turns out we can take more than we even think.

I was asked by a few friends if I would do it all naturally all over again, and my answer is a definite YES, all in all my labor lasted only 5 hours, and to me I'd rather go through smtg intense which is quick rather than drag it for hours more. I also like being in control all through it, and at this point I am more freaked out by the needle going in my back and the paralysis sensation.

My social media fast – what I learned and why you should follow

Our Latter-days prophet’s admonition to take a seven-day social media fast had come to my attention, but I wasn’t going to act on it as his address was during a youth fireside and I simply didn’t think I needed to do it (even though the weeks prior to it had been some of my highest consumption of Facebook).

But my father-in-law, as he usually is very much in-tune with the spirit, at the end of our family visit a few weeks back, sat us all down and before we each left for our homes, he committed us to do just that - what the prophet had urged the young of our church to do - the seven-day social media fast as well as setting a special time aside for the Lord each week for the following three weeks.

After committing to do the fast, the first day I had to decide how to do it. Ethan suggested I erased the app from my phone, which I pondered doing so and maybe even have it permanently removed, but given the fact that I’m working towards my own product business, I know I have to keep in the loop and be proficient using the facebook app (which, btw, it had significant changes even within a week); so instead I moved the Facebook app from the first page to the very last, sitting by itself.

That helped a lot, just having it out of sight and out of mind, but out of habit I still felt like checking statuses and updates all the time in the first few days.

But here’s what I came out with as a result of my fast, also the reasons I would encourage everyone to do so even if for just one week;

• I became more present, paying more attention and in a more natural manner to my girls
• Instead of engaging throughout the day in all these group conversations, and getting distracting notifications of comments or replies to my comments, I had more clarity and quietness in my mind
• I started listening to more podcasts, even meditating and reading more meaningful texts
• I realized the people who really care know what I’m up to even when not broadcasted to the world
• I realized those people are the ones that truly matter, they are the ones that I actually talk on the phone and in person (and sadly enough, there are abt 5 of them besides family, who I talk to on a regular basis offline, one lives back in Romania, 3 are dispersed around the states, and one is in my same city)
• And what was most shocking to me - it made me so far removed from all the noise of social media, that the simple act of posting what we’re doing ALL THE TIME started feeling weird, like I stopped seeing the purpose behind it (I know there are many people who have always felt that way, and have probably laughed at people like myself, but I’m just now seeing the light).

So, obviously I’m still on FB and Instagram. I even thought about making it a two-times a week of an ordeal, almost like a chore, or a work assignment, because no one will really miss me and I will end up getting a whole lot more done in the meanwhile. But for right now, my FB app is still on the last page of my phone, and I am probably checking it about 500% less than I used to.

All thanks to a living prophet who knows our needs and has called us to take actions towards having a more fulfilled life. And just as grateful I am to my father-in-law who was inspired to have us participate.

We Only Get One SHOT

While I was driving down the freeway this past week a thought came to me, which it surprised me a bit. Normally I would think about my to-do list or a big project I have coming up, but what came to my mind is the fact that this life is all we have; that we only get one shot at making it worthwhile.

Typically that thought may make one want to abide by all the rules they know and want to be better so that they’ll reap the rewards in the eternity. But the urge I felt is that I need to enjoy and treasure every day of my life, regardless of how mundane and at times unsatisfactory they may seem. Sometimes I feel like we are waiting for our circumstances to change and then to start living more fully. But even if they don’t change, the fact that this is it and our only shot makes our lives so valuable.

I felt that it’s a bit unfair that we only get one shot at life, because we are small and imperfect and many times don’t get our lessons till is too late, and we could really use a re-do. But God has designed it to be this way, which means it must be the best way.

Ever since that thought a few days ago, I became more aware of how passing this life is and as a result I started enjoying my experience more. Even the though parts of caring for small children and having almost no personal time.

I have a strong feeling that once we’ll pass on into the eternities we will look back upon this life and treasure every single moment of it, the good and the bad. That there will be a sense of sadness that we will never be as fleeing and as limited as we once were while here in mortality.

I don’t know what the future holds or even what I should aim for in many areas of my life, but if there is one thing that I should consistently be aiming for, it should be this: to live my life more fully treasuring each day; by doing so I know I will have no regrets when looking back on my life. 

The Age of Adaline – Her Birth Story

Yes, that’s where we got the idea for her name, and yes the title is cheesy but it applies a bit, because although we had Adaline Esther Kirk full term at 39 weeks, she came looking and weighing more like a 33-34-week baby.

When we had our 20-week sonogram we were told that instead of having a three-vessel cord hers was a two-vessel one. Which it didn’t mean much to us and the way the doctor described it was that it’s like different eye colors in children, that sometimes it happens. But we knew better, so as soon as we got home we googled it and of course it looked way more complicated, as we learned she could have various conditions ranging from minor to pretty serious ones.

For about a day and a half that’s all I was thinking of. I felt a lot of fear and anxiety. With Emilia everything went so smoothly and we were spoiled that way. Having the possibility of something being wrong, it certainly humbled us and gave us a different perspective. I prayed more intensely then than ever before. It was when I embraced the idea that yes, even if there is a condition, there is nothing for me to do, except love and take even better care of her. Only then was I able to relax and to feel at peace.

The doctors have monitored her growth and although she had consistently measured about two weeks behind, they weren’t worried, until the last sonogram on Mon., June 13^th when they saw that she hadn’t grown appropriately. They suggested I be induced saying that the placenta wasn’t feeding her accordingly. I questioned their claims and I really didn’t want to be induced, but I had had no signs of labor so I had to decide very soon. I also took a stress test on Monday where she did well and I was told she weighed around 6 pounds (she was born 4 and 13 oz).

It was that night that I felt some back pain for the first time, which turned into contractions throughout the following day. In the morning I went about things as usual, I even went in to get my eyebrows done and took a nice bath. I also started doing all these tricks I have heard they might get me into labor. I spoke with the doctor and told them I didn’t want to be induced that day and if I won’t have her by Wed morning naturally then we can do it then.

June 14th last day being pregnant 

By 4 pm I started contracting even more intensely and closer together. I didn’t want to go to the hospital too soon but I also knew I may have a much shorter labor this time around. Before we left Ethan gave me a blessing, in which he reassured me that she would come naturally and that the labor will progress as needed. It was a sweet and special blessing focused on my strength and fore-ordination even before mortality. During the 30-min drive the contractions slowed down so we went to McKinley park and walked for about 50 min. There was about 15-20 min in between contractions and I felt like I didn’t want to go in yet, but when they hit and as strong as they had started to be, all I wanted was to check in already. But we waited some more, and around 6 pm we checked in. I was about 4 cm dilated, and I told them that last time around it happened really fast that I progressed from 4 to 10 and that they should be ready for it.

I even had a sandwich as I was hungry and was walking and squatting around the hospital room. Soon enough the contractions started to be closer together and around 10 pm they were really strong. I asked Ethan why I was doing this to myself, and he was quick to search on his phone the downfalls of an epidural (which, btw, it’s not even that strong or anything). But he was encouraging and I really needed him there. He suggested they checked my dilatation as last time it took them by surprise, and I was at a 6 cm but I started feeling things were moving pretty quick. I threw up twice and my body started shaking, which were all good signs. My water broke just about then and I was screaming each time the contractions hit, however I had the sense the nurse wasn’t taking it very seriously; I felt like climbing up the walls and I was lamenting and on my fours. Then I felt her coming out and by now I was trying to keep her in as no one was prepared for it. So during the last contraction I yelled You guys she’s coming, and she did at 10:36pm.

Proud Dada the night of the delivery 

So there was no doctor present as they didn’t expect me to deliver quite yet, but I had three nurses around and of course Ethan, who instinctively rolled up his sleeves when he saw they weren’t ready for it, being ready for anything.

Adaline Esther Kirk a week old 

Comparing it with my first delivery it was definitely shorter but more intense, and last time around I got to meditate, dance around and do all that holistic stuff, this time I was all business, let’s-get-this-over-already attitude. And maybe because of these differences I also hadn’t experienced the hormonal high I did last time. It may also be because I was worried with Adaline. She seemed so small and she was kind of purple, that I asked why she wasn’t crying when they put her on my chest. That worry took over all other emotions for the following days. The only positive outcome of her being so small is that I was able to recuperate a lot quicker than with Emi. A few hours after having her I was walking her bassinet over to the new room. Maybe it’s also a second pregnancy and delivery thing.

I think the reason I was against being induced as well as getting an epidural (which I’m almost certain it would have slowed me down a lot, and I’d rather have it super intense and short than drag it for longer) is because I prefer being in control over the situation and being actively involved step by step. And yes the pain was most likely the highest I have ever felt in my life, but I tried to embrace it and make it work for me, rather than fight or resist it. Also this second time around I knew that the pain is what will make the baby come and I tried my hardest to relax through what it seemed like 10000 volts going through my whole body.

We love her strawberry brown hair 

They were right, each pregnancy and delivery is different. I’m glad is over and that we have Addie in our arms, that although she is really small she had tested well and was able to come home after a day and a half. And it feels like being a new mom all over again, as caring for her is different from caring for Emi. I am breaking all my rules (sleeping in my bed, falling asleep in my arms, feeding on demand and I’m sure there will be more to follow) and she will most likely be a lot more cozied up than Emi. But for right now all I care about is her thriving and becoming strong. 

What being Christlike in the face of same-sex marriage legalization is to me

Never in my life have I wanted to be more Christlike and never in my life have I felt less equipped with knowing what that really is. 

I know we’re taught to act and think as Christ would. And although I am well-aware of it, many times I still gossip, I still spend more time on FB than I do reading my scriptures and many more examples of sort. But when dealing with the gay marriage situation, knowing how tough it is not to become judgmental and rough on those who are gay, but also being able to hold my ground and express my beliefs, it really left me with no direction but wanting really badly to act and do as Christ would.  

But this was tough too; would Christ have changed his FB profile pic to show solidarity and support for the gay community and the recent success? Maybe, but I don’t think so. I also don’t think he would have come very strongly against all those who support it. Christ has both forgiven and mourned with the sinners and those who were weak but he has also condemned the Pharisees, calling them vipers and sons of the devil. So once again, it makes it really tough figuring out how to deal with it all.

I was notified by the recent court’s decision on legalizing gay marriage all throughout the states by my well-informed, politically-savvy husband since being in RO that didn’t really make the news and no one cares abt it over there. 

At first I didn’t think much of it, because we’ve all known sooner or later it will become the standard. But then, all the sudden my FB page was flooded with rainbow pics and praises to the recent decision. My initial reaction was to counter it with articles or opinions which sat on the opposite side, criticizing the decision. I thought that I should be pro-active at defending and promoting traditional marriage. But then I thought abt it and realized that I don’t want to be that person, especially since my interaction with the majority of my FB friends is solely online, and I know how easy it is to be miss-portrayed when limited to cyber interaction.

Then I thought I should just keep quiet and not even participate in this discussion. But I realized it mostly came  from a fear of intolerance (funny enough) from the other side for simply stating what is true and important to me. And being afraid to talk and express opinions it’s not me, nor is it why I chose to live in the United States for that matter. If expressing my views, as unpopular as they are, is being intolerant of others, then America is no longer what it was initially made to be.

Pondering on it all, some scriptures came to my mind. Passages from the Book of Mormon which talk abt if the day comes when the majority of the people choose something which is not aligned with God’s gospel, that is should be granted unto to them. So I accept the reality of it, even though we’re not even sure what the voice of the people would have chosen, since it was ultimately decided by 5 judges, but let’s say it is what most people (50% plus 1) desire in the US, I believe it should be allowed, but what does this mean to me?

I’ve never established my values and beliefs based on what was popular or praised by the world. And of course my support of marriage between one man and one woman springs from my Mormon upbringing as well as being raised in a country like Romania, but ultimately the reason I believe in it comes from how I feel abt it internally. It just feels right to me - and no laws and outside pressure can make me feel otherwise once I internalize such truths.

Now, I’m also well-aware I never felt what a gay person feels nor have I struggled with anything like it, and that’s why I don’t accuse nor condemn the stand they take, I might have done the same in their shoes. And that’s why I was left with wanting to behave as Christ would in these circumstances.

I read 3 Nephi 14 in the Book of Mormon and I was hoping to find smtg in there to give me some answers since I even taught it on my mission that the Book of Mormon holds the answers to all of life’s questions.

This chapter starts with Christ addressing the Nephites, teaching similarly to his teachings in Jerusalem. He says: Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgement you judge, ye shall be judged; …why beholdest thou the mote that is in your brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?  And I thought, this is it, I shouldn’t judge them (gays, or gay supporters), I should focus on myself and all the work I have yet to accomplish to better myself. And then I read some more: Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet.  I know the language may come across as strong and demeaning, but I think it simply means not to bring up Godly things to those who may not even believe in a God. In other words, we cannot even hold a conversation on the matter if there is no point on reference, such as you don’t believe in a higher being, who I believe has established a way of living for us which is meant to bring us higher happiness. Or you have no standards of right and wrong, so everything can go.

And then finally it was in verse 12 that hit home to me, all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them. And this is to me what being Christlike in the face of same-sex marriage legalization is.

• I desire not be judged nor demeaned because I still believe in traditional marriage, 
• I desire that people would give me a chance when they meet me rather than categorizing and rejecting me based on my beliefs, 
• I desire they don’t take it personally but consider and accept that the way I believe is a deep personal belief which has no intention of hurting or undermine who they are, 
• I desire they know and accept that I can still love them in spite of feeling differently about gay marriage. 

Applying the above principle, I also want to make sure I treat them as I wish to be treated.

I know that one day, in the eternities, we’ll look back on this and realize we all tried to do the best with what we knew and what we had, and that will be all that matters. I know God loves us all and maybe the reason we are dealing with all these issues and dilemmas, is not to try to convince each other to think and feel the same, but to see how well we treat each other in spite of strong differences.