When I was a little girl, my parents were in a lot of bowling leagues. It was a hobby that they really enjoyed. I especially remember Saturday nights at the bowling alley because I was allowed to have a small soda. I couldn’t have soda during the week so this was a really special treat. A little cup of heaven each week (smile). So, every Saturday I skipped to the snack bar and got myself a small soda. I was about 8 years old. There was a young guy (I’m guessing he was a teenager, but to me he seemed like a man) that worked the snack bar on those Saturday nights. He was always 
really nice to me and would chat with me while I drank my soda. There was nothing weird about it…he was just an outgoing friendly guy and my parents were always near by. At the time, I didn’t realize what it was, but in looking back I realize I had developed a bit of a crush on him. I not only looked forward to my soda on Saturdays, but I also looked forward to chatting with my friend. Back in the day they called this puppy love. I really had no idea about sex, or even kissing for that matter, but I knew that I liked this person.
I received an email from someone last week, and in the email they explained their beliefs about homosexuality. Overall it was a very encouraging email as this person explained that they felt gay people should be loved and treated with respect. Yay! However, twice in the email they mentioned about the person’s choice of “lifestyle” and choice of sexuality. I go back to my story of being a little girl. If you had asked me what sexuality meant, I would have no clue. I just knew that I liked something about the young man who worked at the snack bar. The same as a little boy might have a crush on his teacher. It’s all very innocent.
As I got older, I continued to notice boys. I can say that I was never attracted to girls. I feel that if you are going to say that someone is making a choice about their attraction, then you are saying they must be attracted to both sexes in order to have to make that choice. Did you make a choice to be a heterosexual? I didn’t either. It just happened…it’s who I am. If you are married to someone of the opposite sex, has anyone ever said to you, “I’m so happy you chose to live a heterosexual lifestyle.” My guess would be that you haven’t. Yet, I get comments all the time about gay people choosing a homosexual “lifestyle”. I may have said this before, but I think where communication breaks down on this topic is there are some people who think of gay people as being straight with a “sex problem”. That is not the case at all.
I wish people would stop for a moment and think of what it might be like to realize you are gay. I said realize because that is how it happens. If you knew the difficulties that gay people face, you would understand that no one would choose it. And if you happen to be someone in a Christian home who reaches puberty and realizes that you have an attraction for the same-sex, you believe all the things you’ve been taught about homosexuality…about yourself. This is why so many suffer from depression and shame. When they finally get the courage to speak up, some are exposed to some horrific practices to try to “cure” them. It’s called conversion or reparative therapy. To get a glimpse of what this might be like, I invite you to read Sam’s story:
Born Perfect – Sam Brinton’s Story
I can’t even begin to imagine how someone overcomes that treatment. I know just seeing how distressed my son was in the beginning of his journey caused emotional scars for me. I had to change my ringtone on my phone because it was triggering memories of him being in the hospital (we would get calls from his counselor). And songs that brought me comfort during that time, I can’t listen to anymore. When I hear them, I see my son hurting himself in front of me in the hospital and I hear him screaming at us when we had to leave him there.
We need to be more interested in listening to people and their stories, rather than judging them and making assumptions that we can’t possibly understand. And above all else, we need to love…because love matters.
(NCLR has launched #BornPerfect: The Campaign to End Conversion Therapy in the next five years by passing laws across the country to protect LGBT kids, fighting in courtrooms to ensure their safety, and raising awareness about the serious harms caused by these dangerous practices. You can learn more about them (here). I will also be adding them to my Resource page)
big deal out of our birthdays. So I’ve been reflecting on birthdays of the past and remembered a funny story. When I was turning 10, my mom and sister went shopping for a birthday gift for me. I was hanging out at my grandmother’s house while they did their shopping. My mom of course explained to my sister, who was 5 at the time, that the gift was going to be a surprise and she needed to keep it a secret. Well, they got to my grandmother’s house and my sister busted through the door and exclaimed, “Lesa, we got you a diarrhea!” Uh, thanks??? What she meant to say was diary (smile). So much for keeping it secret!
share, but had to wait. She explained how hard it was to not mention it when someone would ask how she was doing because it was something really big in her life and she wanted to share it. It struck me when she explained that to me. I lived that way for six years. I had a secret. My son was gay. There were many reasons why I didn’t share my secret at first. Like my friend, people would ask how I was doing. I would smile and reply with the usual “fine” even when my son was in the hospital. It was hard not to share, but I eventually realized it was God’s timing…not mine…for when the secret should be revealed.
This picture had the caption “parents will blurt out warnings constantly as you try to drive.” That was not the case for me. I couldn’t get my words out. It was more like I was speaking in tongues. In my mind, I would be saying, “Watch out for that car! You’re too close to the mailbox! Stop!” Instead what would actually come out of my mouth was something like, “Codswallop flummadiddle!” It was terrible…and scary! One day, my son asked me to take him out on the highway. It was before his lesson with his driving instructor and he was really nervous about going on the highway for the first time with a stranger. I agreed to help calm his nerves and we hopped in the car. As he was getting ready to merge into heavy traffic, I reminded him to look over his shoulder to see if it was clear. He did so with such enthusiasm that he banged his head on the window…really hard. I thought for sure he knocked himself out! Luckily he was ok and we survived the outing. Oh the joys of parenthood!
Thank goodness! Sometimes I just need to let go of the control. It’s easy for it to sneak up on me. I try to “figure things out” before I even know I’m doing it. I feel so much better when I turn to God and tell Him that I trust Him to do what is best for me. Believe me though, there are a lot of questions in that at times. For instance, having an illness for 20 years with no answers is tough. It can really drive me crazy sometimes. If I think about my future, it is hard not to get depressed about it. 20 years is a long time to deal with something. What if it never goes away?? Sometimes it just takes a leap of faith. I love that saying. When I think of the word leap, I just think of completely letting go and taking a big jump (In my mind it’s an elegant jump – smile). Faith…firm belief in something for which there is no proof. Leap of Faith. We aren’t always going to know the answers…but we can look to the One who does. It’s not always going to be easy. Sometimes it will seem impossible. But there is freedom in taking that leap. Even if we don’t get the answer that we want.
Time after time my friends would drag me there and bug me endlessly to get on a ride with them. Every time that I did, I was always reminded why I didn’t want to get on in the first place. The entire ride my face would look something like this poor lady (smile). I didn’t realize it back then, but part of my problem is that the rides mess with my equilibrium. Let me tell you…that is not a good feeling.
My family and I have gone on vacations with friends that have included amusement parks. Everyone is always excited to get on the biggest and fastest roller coasters. It’s not my number one choice for vacations, but I do enjoy watching them have fun. And I do play an important role. Picture the woman with the sunglasses with several purses, backpacks, and cell phones, and that is a picture of me. The holder of stuff. Without fail, they usually come off the ride and proceed to tell me that their eyes were watering, and snot was coming out of their noses. And then they exclaim, “It was awesome!” Really? This is people’s idea of fun?? Call me crazy, but I don’t get it (smile).
Lately I’ve been feeling like life has me on a roller coaster. I hate the ride. I want to get off of the ride. And just when I think the ride is over…the roller coaster starts up for another round and I have to go again. There are tears (and snot because of those tears – smile), and I think to myself, “this isn’t awesome and it isn’t fun.” When my kids get on a roller coaster, one of the things that worries me is that the ride will break and they will get stuck at the highest point of the coaster. And that is how I’ve been feeling. Stuck. Focused on the fact that I hate the ride. Focused on the fact that there isn’t anything in my power I can do at the moment to stop the ride. It’s awful…and dare I say unfair (smile)? I realized I’ve been looking at this all wrong. I need to focus on the One that keeps me securely fastened in the ride. The One who is in control of the ride and protects me. I’ve been here with Him before. He knows the big dips, sharp turns, upside down twists, and He keeps me safe the whole time. He provides the security that I need and I need to trust in Him. After all, I know the ride won’t last forever. And I know that at the end, I will be a stronger person because of it.
When my daughter was about 4 years old, she came up into my bedroom to tell me about an “incident” that had happened downstairs. For the life of me I can’t remember the actual incident, but it was regarding something that was broken or a really big mess that was made. She interrupted what I was doing and proceeded to tell me the biggest whopper of a story I have ever heard. It was very intricate, very detailed, very much hogwash…I could just tell. I waited for her to get to the end of her convoluted fib, and then with a confused look simply said to her, “What? Can you repeat that please?” She then proceeded to burst into tears. She knew there was no way she could come up with all of that again (smile).
Love Matters 