Pam Squires is a social worker and family supporter at a Tucson hospice.

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I struggle every election cycle as the gay community — my community — is used like a tightly rolled-up magazine to swat the noses of weary voters. With the conventions, the upcoming debates and the Arizona anti-gay marriage amendment that pops up like a reoccurring canker sore, this year is no exception.

In the past, I have been in the part of the gay population that really didn't care about the term "marriage" or care about ongoing religious persecution. Just give us equality in the form of civil unions.

In a defensive reaction, I thought, "Keep your term marriage. Keep your God to yourself."

And then I watched the Rick Warren forum at Saddleback Church. I heard the gay-friendlier presidential candidate of the two say this about marriage: "It's a union between a man and a woman. For me as a Christian, it is a sacred union. God's in the mix."

And then the other presidential candidate, of course, followed with almost identical language.

Both statements struck me as quite audacious.

One candidate, Sen. Barack Obama, is a product of a marriage that was itself deemed illegal until 41 years ago (Loving v. Virginia), and the other one, Sen. John McCain, is working on his second marriage. He cheated on his first wife on several occasions.

I grew up in the home of a conservative Baptist minister. When I realized I was gay, I panicked.

I actually had people pray over me to exorcise the "demon of homosexuality." When that didn't take, I went to a "Christian" therapist to talk it out of me.

Twenty-two years later, I smile as I write this. Back then, it wasn't so funny.

Christianity didn't want to have anything to do with me so I didn't want anything to do with it. It's rather ironic that it took finding my life partner to realize that there is a God and we are loved.

Sarah is the daughter of a Lutheran minister and didn't have nearly as much religious baggage as I did. The unconditional love from her and for her was something tangible and real.

Every morning (just about), we start the day with a prayer of gratitude and a desire to be used for something good. She goes off to run the largest domestic- violence shelter program in Southern Arizona. I go off to assist people as they greet their deaths and the families that tell them goodbye.

Back to the candidates' statements. Would they believe that God isn't in the mix for us? That our relationship isn't sacred?

What is more harmful? To deprive people of equality or to perpetuate the myth that their relationships are godless and profane?

I don't know the answer to that question anymore because the myth seems to drive the policies of inequality.

I've come back around to revisiting Bible passages I memorized as a child. In his letter to the people of Romans, the apostle Paul asked a rhetorical question: "What can separate us from the love of God?"

I think the apostle would allow me to interpret his words. What can separate Sarah and I (and the hundreds of thousands of gay people across this country) from the love of God? Neither Obama nor McCain, neither Republican nor Democrat, neither priest, rabbi nor reverend. Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God.