Christian parents of gay child

Small things…big difference…

/ Lesa / 2 Comments

tastykakebutterscotchWhen I was a little girl, I loved Fridays, and it wasn’t because it was the start to the weekend.  Nope…I loved Fridays because it was grocery shopping day. Now don’t worry…my parents didn’t starve me (smile).  I just knew that when my dad came home from the store I was going to get a treat.  Sometimes it was gingersnap cookies, sometimes it was a Slim Jim, but my all time favorite was Tastykake Butterscotch Krimpets.  Yum!  AND I was allowed to eat them before I had dinner, plus I got to spend time with my dad while he put the groceries away.

Coffee-for-Your-Heart-150I’m joining Holley Gerth today and her “Coffee for Your Heart” challenge to encourage others.  This week’s theme is “A small thing that makes a big difference is…”  Well, a Butterscotch Krimpet may seem like a small thing, but it was a big deal to me.  Not only was it something tasty, but I got to spend quality time with my dad.  It was a special little thing that we shared.  It let me know that while he was at the store…he was thinking about me.  He was doing an ordinary task that people do everyday, and he took the time to find my treat and bring it home to me.

There are a lot of small things that can make a big difference…

Did you ever receive a phone call from a friend at just the right time?  Did they lift your spirits or make you laugh on a day that you didn’t think that was possible?  A small thing…big difference.

Have you ever received a card in the mail from a friend that spoke to you in just the right way…at just the right time? Did it let you know that you weren’t alone…that someone loved you and was thinking about you?  A small thing…big difference.

Have you ever had someone hold the door for you at a store on a day where you felt like everyone was against you? Or have someone stop their car and let you pass in front of them on a day when you just felt invisible to the rest of the world?  Small things…big difference.

Has someone ever said to you, “I’ll pray for you.” during a difficult time, but instead of waiting for their quiet time with God, they prayed with you right then and there?  A small thing…big difference.

These small things make a big difference too…

Posting that comment on FB that was less than kind about someone.  A small thing…but maybe that comment fed doubts and fears already hard for them to control…big difference.

Telling that gay joke.  A small thing…but it is offensive and hurtful to not only the gay person, but to their friends and family as well…big difference.

Pointing out certain verses in the Bible regarding homosexuality to “plant seeds” to your gay family member or friend.  A small thing…but trust me, if they’ve grown up in the church they have been over those verses a million times and if they haven’t grown up in the church…not the best approach to introduce them to God…big difference.

We all need to remember that it’s not only the big things we do in life that people notice…it’s the small things too. And sometimes those small things make a bigger impact then we ever imagined they could…good or bad.

My husband finally had his back surgery yesterday.  We were bombarded with prayers, texts, and emails all with well wishes…small things…big difference.  We could feel their love.  (hopefully this post will make sense…we didn’t get much sleep in the hospital last night)

To this day, I can not see a package of Tastykake Butterscotch Krimpets and not think of my dad (smile).

Love each other….because love matters.

Does someone need a hug?

/ Lesa / 3 Comments

At the risk of everyone thinking I am totally cuckoo, I’m going to share a childhood story with you.  When I was really little (well…young…people would say I’m still little), my parents got me a pet rabbit that I named Puff.  I don’t remember my pet rabbit because I was so young, but apparently when Puff went to heaven I was one sad little girl.  My mom told me I would stand at the back door and cry, asking Puff why he left me because I loved him and wanted him to be with me.  I guess my parents felt bad for me so they got me a goldfish…which I named Puff.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I can appreciate the beauty of fish, and really enjoy fish in aquariums, but a goldfish in a glass bowl just was not meeting my nurturing spirit to love an animal.  I remember my fish Puff and I remember how sad I was when he died.  parakeetSo, my parents got me a bird.  You guessed it…Puff the parakeet.  (Don’t ask me why I named every pet Puff.  Maybe it was because I was young and didn’t have a very large vocabulary.)  Now Puff the bird was better than Puff the fish, but I found that having a bird was still not quite meeting my need to share love with a pet. I can remember putting my little fingers through the cage bars to try to pet him and he would peck at them. It hurt!  I remember crying asking him, “Puff why did you bite me.  You hurt me!  I love you.  I want to pet you.”  Well occasionally my parents would let Puff out to stretch his wings and he would fly around the house.  I became very good at sneaking up on him.  I would wait until he was at a level I could reach, and I would move very slowly towards him and snatch him up when he least expected it.  I would then run with him to a very small coat closet that we had so he couldn’t get away from me, and I would hold him close against my chest and stroke his little head and hug him.  I can still remember the feeling of his little heart beating a mile a minute against my chest.  Now don’t worry.  He never got hurt.  I just desperately wanted to show my love to him and I so wanted to be able to hold him all the time and hug him.  Pretty weird, huh?

I’ve gotten lots of questions since coming out about my son being gay (yes, the parents have their own sort of coming out).  One of the most common questions/comments I get is this:  “I know that we are supposed to love everyone.  But when it comes to someone who is gay – I’m not sure what that is supposed to look like.”  I have to admit…I’m a little taken aback when I hear this.  To me, this sounds like conditional love.  I’m not sure why love would look different. If it’s because they take the stance that being gay is a sin, aren’t we all sinners?  Should I ask how I should love the proud, the addict, the gossiper, the adulterer?  I don’t think so.

I read a post the other day that has haunted me. I will add the link at the end of this post so that you can read it for yourself.  I don’t want to misquote it.  The post was discussing the GCN Conference that took place in January.  GCN stands for Gay Christian Network.  The annual Gay Christian Network conference brings hundreds of brothers and sisters in Christ together for fellowship, worship, support, Bible study, and more.  It’s for the LGBT community, but anyone can attend and sometimes parents attend with their gay children.  Here is a quote from the post regarding the conference:

“The parents had their own meeting time to share their stories with each other and be support for each other. What they decided to do later that day was beyond amazing. Those that were comfortable enough agreed to line the hall outside one of the meeting rooms and give hugs to those of us that needed and wanted them. When they made that announcement, I realized I still carried a lot of pain due to my father’s reaction. I KNEW I was going to get a hug from a dad!”

Shew!  Still makes me cry reading it.  Imagine…being rejected by your parent and wanting to be accepted so badly that a hug from a stranger takes some of the sting of rejection away.  So, how does it look to love a gay person?  It should look the same as loving your spouse, your children, your neighbor…because that is what God commands.  You have no idea the pain and suffering that they’ve gone through.  They are rejected for how they were born.  They didn’t choose to be gay. Picture that hallway…and the line of men and women…young and old…waiting for a hug. Some human contact that lets them know they are loved and accepted simply for being themselves. We need to change the perception that is out there.  This can’t continue.  I’m so glad that God grabbed a hold of my heart and taught me how to be different.  I’m so glad I listened.  My son will never have to stand in that line.  It is one of my life’s missions now to one day be at that conference.  To stand in that hallway…and hug and show love to as many people as I can.

If you consider yourself a Christ follower, how you treat people matters.  You are an ambassador of Christ.  Do you want to turn people away from God, or turn people towards God?

When Puff the parakeet died, my parents got me the pet I wanted all along.  I was at my great grandmother’s house and my mom walked in with a brown paper grocery bag.  She sat it down in front of me and it started to wiggle.  me and cherieI peaked inside and saw a tiny little ball of black fur. My very first dog! No, I didn’t name her Puff…my parents wouldn’t let me (smile).  Can’t you just see the joy on my face as I give her a hug.  I know she doesn’t look as thrilled (and she could really use a haircut in this picture), but she became my best friend.

Give someone a hug…because hugs matter too…

The post I reference is from FreedHearts.  If the link doesn’t take you directly to the post, the title is “When he hugged me, I just fell into his arms.”

Joy in the journey…

/ Lesa / 14 Comments

Coffee-for-Your-Heart-150I’m joining my fellow blogger Holley Gerth in her “Coffee for Your Heart” challenge of encouraging others.  This week’s theme is “What brings you joy?” This was a timely theme as I read a post from someone else this week that was upsetting and it has plagued me ever since. I plan on writing a post about it in a day or two.  It goes along with something I was already working on.  So, thinking about what brings me joy was a good distraction.  Here’s just a small glimpse of what brings me joy:

I love me some coffee – Venti decaf non-fat no-whip mocha lattes.

Walking my dog Lucy in the rain…we have the whole neighborhood to ourselves…so peaceful.

Sitting on the beach with a good book.

Hiking in the mountains.

Listening to music…really loud (smile).  This also includes singing and dancing along to the music.

Celebrating 25 years of marriage this past September.

Babies laughing.

Holding hands with my husband.

Watching my daughter’s creativity blossom.  She is a talented artist that can make something out of just about anything.  Can’t wait to see where God takes her talent.  She can draw, paint, sculpt, etc. Her creations make me smile.

Seeing the changes in my son this year at college after such a tough year last year.  He went from losing 15 pounds last year, because he couldn’t leave his room to go to the cafeteria due to anxiety, to this year joining clubs, becoming an officer in one of them, tutoring, being in a film for the school…the list goes on.  Reading his writing (he is also a talented writer) and listening to him play the player also brings me joy.

But the thing that brings me the most joy lately is when someone tells me that this blog has made them think about homosexuality differently.  That this issue isn’t as “black and white” as they first thought.  This makes my heart smile.

Just a glimpse of what brings me joy.  The list could go on and on.  Life isn’t always easy, but if you look you can find joy in even the simplest of moments.  My journey has been one of many tears, but lately the tears have been tears of joy.

Psalm 126:5 (NIV)

5 Those who sow with tears
will reap with songs of joy.

joy in the journey

Remember to find Joy in the journey…and as always love each other…because love matters.

You’re not alone…

/ Lesa / 1 Comment

I was talking with one of my friends who was gushing about being a grandmother.  Her excitement was contagious.   She was telling me about the recent weekend that her granddaughter got to spend with her.  She was explaining that when it was time to go to bed her granddaughter told her she was scared.  Thinking that this would be a good teaching moment she said to her granddaughter, “honey you won’t be by yourself…Jesus is always with you in your heart.”  Her granddaughter looked up at her with big crocodile tears, “but Grandma…I want someone with skin.”  I thought this was the cutest way to describe that she just wanted someone to be physically there with her.  Do you know that feeling?

Coffee-for-Your-Heart-150Today I join my fellow blogger Holley Gerth and her “Coffee for Your Heart” challenge.  Today’s topic is…You’re Not Alone.  I have to tell you when I first read this I cried.  It reminded me of the many years I spent keeping the secret that my son was gay and how lonely that made me feel.  I didn’t keep it a secret because I wanted to…I felt like I had to.

We ALL have “stuff” in life that we go through.  It’s so easy for us to share the happy and joyous moments of our lives, but it is so much harder to share our struggles.  This can leave us feeling like we are all alone.  We know that the Holy Spirit is always with us to strengthen us, to give us life-giving energy, and to help us accomplish things that we could never do on our own. Nothing can compare to the gift of the Holy Spirit.  He is our helper.  I would always tell you to completely rely on his wisdom and guidance. But God also calls us to love each other, to be there for each other…because sometimes we just need someone with skin (smile).

It can be a scary thing to share your insecurities, your struggles, your grief, etc.  But I am here to tell you that if you can find someone to share those things with, it can completely help to change your life.  If we could all open up our lives to each other, we would all realize that there is no reason to feel alone.  Let’s look at my life for a moment.  I can share with you about the trials and tribulations of having a sibling that is an alcoholic…and about practicing the most difficult form of love…tough love (I’m happy to say that my sister is now 10 years sober…woo hoo…and I couldn’t be prouder of her).  I can share with you about the grief of losing a parent…especially in a sudden and unexpected way (see my post I will see you again).  I can share with you about the stress of dealing with family members that deal with OCD, anxiety, and depression.  I can share with you about having an illness for a long period of time without having answers about what is wrong with you (I’ve had fevers, headaches, pain and chronic fatigue for 20 years).  And my latest is… I can share with you (and have with this blog – smile) what it’s like to be a Christian and have your child come out to you.  As I said earlier…we all have difficulties that we deal with along this journey we call life.  One of the things that gives me great joy is to be able to share these life experiences to help others.  It makes the pain somehow worth it.  You are not alone my friend.  There are others out there who struggle with difficulties…just like you.

I mentioned that I felt like I had to keep the fact that my son is gay a secret.  It was to protect him and my family. We weren’t ready for people to know.  We had experiences with fellow Christians that made it clear where they stood on the subject and it wasn’t one of love.  We couldn’t help but be fearful about how people might respond to the news. It took time and prayer to get to the place where we were strong enough to deal with what might come our way once the news was out there.  I’m happy to say that the response has been mostly good.  It was worth the risk. And I don’t feel alone anymore.

If you or someone you know is gay or has a family member who is gay, and they don’t feel like they have anyone to turn to, please have them email me.  I would be happy to talk to them.  If you go to my contact page, it will send me a private email.  No one else can see it but me.  It’s a start.  You don’t have to go through it alone.

Take some time this week to prove to someone that they aren’t alone.  It will change not only their life…but yours.

And remember to love each other…because love matters.

More than just a peanut…

/ Lesa / 11 Comments

When I was younger, I was a peanut.  Unfortunately, because of my size, I was a target for bullying.  There was one girl in particular in my neighborhood that was relentless.  When I was 8 or 9 I was so fed up with her picking on me, that I went to my dad and asked him to teach me how to punch.  (I am not an advocate of violence in any form.  I simply wanted to be able to protect myself if it came to that).  I don’t remember if I told my dad the reason, but he not only taught me how to throw a punch, but he also taught me how to block one.

My best friend at the time was also named Lisa.  Because we were always together, most people called us by our first and middle name.  So, I was known as Lesa Page (yes my parents spelled both of my names wrong).  We were out in the neighborhood playing one day and “bully” girl started harassing me.  She was always telling me she was going to “kick my butt” so I basically told her to do it and get it over with…I was tired of her threatening me.  So she did…or at least she tried. She pulled back and threw a punch.  I blocked it with my left arm and bawled up my right hand into a fist and hit her right in the stomach.  (again not supporting violence, I was 8 or 9 and at my breaking point). She was shocked and ran home crying.

5.0.2I few minutes later the “bully” girl and her mom were knocking on my friend Lisa’s front door (they lived across the street from her).  Her mom answered the door and “bully” girl’s mom proceeded to yell at her and tell her that she needed to control her daughter.  Apparently, “bully” girl ran home telling her mom that Lesa hit her (not using a middle name to distinguish which one).  Her mom assumed it was my friend, who was much bigger than me and her daughter.  My friend’s mom looked at the other mom and said “it wasn’t my Lisa who hit her, it was this one,” and pointed at me. When “bully” girl’s mom learned that it was me that hit her daughter, she just took her by the arm, walked off the porch, and went home.

So what’s that familiar saying…don’t judge a book by its cover?  Well obviously we should do this more often with people…and not just because they might haul off and punch you in the stomach (wink).  Unfortunately, the truth is that we do judge others.  Even in a place that should be a judge free zone…like the Church.  When I was younger, I was judged because of my size.  Today I am judged because my son is gay.  The judgement I receive, however, is nothing like what he receives.  I don’t mean to be crude, but in the eyes of many Christians, gay people are seen as a sexual act…not as human beings.  The thought process tends to be about what gay people do…not who they are as people.  This is why many of them stay away from church.  They feel either invisible or like a “problem” or “situation” that needs to be handled.  This is so devastating to them…and their families.  When I go to church on Sundays, and the ushers open the doors for me, metaphorically I am hearing church doors slam in the face of my son.  How will he ever find his way back to the One who created him if God’s people judge him harshly and unfairly?  I think Jesus would want us to be better representatives.  Don’t you?

By the way, I grew up to be a whopping 5 foot, half an inch (smile).

Love each other…because love matters.