Gay

And they called it puppy love…

/ Lesa / 2 Comments

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 young_lovereally 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)

Can you keep a secret?…

/ Lesa / 4 Comments

I celebrated my birthday a couple of weeks ago.  It’s probably the time that I miss my mom the most.  She always made aDIARY-pink415 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!

Growing up I was always taught it wasn’t nice to have secrets.  If I had friends over and I was caught whispering something in one of their ears, my mom would say, “No secrets!”  I think it was her way of making sure that no one felt left out.  Sometimes secrets are fun…like for bridal or baby showers, or a surprise birthday party.  But sometimes secrets are painful.  Things we may have done that we aren’t proud of, or something that has happened to us that makes us feel shame.

I was with a friend recently who had information that she couldn’t share for several months.  Something that she wanted to secretshare, 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.

Now that my secret is out, I have realized that I can never go back.  I don’t want to. There are some possible changes coming up in my life and with those changes I want to make sure I can continue on this journey of sharing my story.  I don’t want to go back in the closet.  I can’t.  The most important thing to me going forward is that I can continue to be who I am and pursue my passion of being a voice for the LGBTQ community.  No matter what that looks like.

So, as you encounter people remember that you probably don’t know their whole story.  There may be something that they are keeping inside because they are too scared to let it out.  Tread gently with each other.  Will you be that safe place where someone can share their secret?

My Secret

I have a secret.  Do you see it?

Can you see the pain in my face…my soul?
Do you see my shame….my fear?
Have you noticed the light in my eyes is gone?
Do you see my sadness?

I want to tell you my secret.  Do you hear me?

Do you hear me say that this is something I didn’t choose?
Do you hear me when I tell you I’ve read the Bible passages?
I know what they say.
Do you hear me when I say that I’ve prayed for it to go away?
Oh how I have prayed.
Do you hear me when I say this is who I am?
This is how God created me.
Do you hear my cries?

I told you my secret.  Do you still love me????

I hope so….because love matters.

10500293_837352542943547_8579893146197405484_n

Nose as long as a telephone wire…

/ Lesa / 2 Comments

Kids have the craziest sayings.  At least they did when I was growing up.  Things like, “I’m rubber and you’re glue.  Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!”  We would say this if someone said something mean about us.  It wouldn’t really be about us (because we are rubber and the word would bounce off of us), but would rather stick to the person who said it because they were “glue.”  I can remember having little “wars” with these sayings. You always wanted to be the person to get the last word.  Then there was the infamous, “Liar, liar, pants on fire…nose as long as a telephone wire!”  Memories…

2014.06.27 14.12.02.567When 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).

I know how she felt.  When I discovered that my son was gay, I didn’t tell a lie, but I very much felt like I was living one.  I didn’t tell anyone for 3 weeks (my husband was the only other person who knew).  But I soon learned how damaging this was to me and I just couldn’t take it anymore.  One day at work (I work for my church), I went out into the courtyard on our property with my Bible.  I sat on a bench and just prayed and asked God “Why? Why did this happen, what did I do wrong, how could I fix it??” And like my daughter I burst into tears.  I knew I needed to tell the staff because I felt like I was lying.  I felt fake.  So that day they learned my secret.

If I thought it was hard for me to live with that secret, it was a million (actually there aren’t numbers large enough to describe) times harder for my son.  Growing up in a Christian family, going to church, going to a private Christian school made it even tougher.  Before my husband and I realized he was dealing with this, he spent two years praying and calling out to God to change him.  He lived in fear of our rejection, God’s rejection, and the rejection of friends and family.  So, he pretended that he was someone else. When he couldn’t take it any longer, and started opening up to people, he was bullied.  This led to depression, anxiety, hopelessness, self-hatred, and self-harm.  That is no way to live.  I watched him go from a happy, silly kid to a depressed and dark place.  It was terrifying.

We are taught that lying is wrong.  To me, asking people to deny who they are is like asking them to lie and in some ways I feel like that is what the church is asking people to do.  And at the same time…coming out is so hard and scary.  They face being rejected by friends and family, hate crimes, discrimination, etc.  But I truly feel that all of those are less harmful than living a lie and pretending to be someone you are not.  It does major damage to you emotionally and psychologically.  When my son finally accepted himself, he went from that dark depressed place to one of light.  He is happy, more confident, and less anxious.  The risk is worth it, because the secret is too damaging.

It took several more years before I came out to more people, and as of September 2013, to the world when I started this blog.  I understand to some extent the freedom that someone feels when they come out (I touch on this in my In Christ Alone post).  It is so nice to feel like you aren’t living a lie.  Now it takes everything I have not to wrap myself in a rainbow flag (rainbows are a symbol for the LGBT community) as I’m out in public to let people know that I am a safe place to land.  They can share their secret with me.  They can be who they truly are…and I will love them.

Because love matters…Rainbow-flag

I don’t want to be a Christian…

/ Lesa / 9 Comments

My daughter and I were out and about one day and decided to stop in Chipotle Mexican Grill to get a bite to eat. The line was really long and it was quite loud with a lot of activity.  I don’t know why, but I was nervous about the chipotleprocedure of ordering because I couldn’t remember exactly how to do it.  I knew it was something like Subway…tell the first person what you want and then someone else build’s upon it.  When it came to my turn to order, I told the young man I wanted a burrito.  And then this happened…

Me:  I would like a burrito
Young man:  Would you like pinto beans or black beans?
Me:  Yes
Young man:  What?
Me:  Chicken!

What can I say?? I panicked.  I don’t know why.  I couldn’t hear what he was saying exactly.  I heard, “Do you want black beans?”  Which I replied yes because…well…I really like black beans.  When he said, “What?” I thought to myself, “Oh no!  I did it wrong.”  I couldn’t really hear him so I thought maybe he asked me what kind of meat I wanted because you have your choice.  Hence me exclaiming, “Chicken!”  Well, I can tell you the look on his face was priceless.  When I saw that look, I realized I had totally screwed up.  So, I just simply said, “Can we start over?” (smile).  Once again I was asked what kind of beans I preferred which I promptly replied that I would like black beans.  Then he slide my burrito over to the next person who asked me what kind of meat I wanted.  It was painful, but I survived getting my order.  My daughter and I laughed about it all the way home.  She said, “Mom, you really yelled out – CHICKEN!”  It is now a running joke with all of my friends.  When we have a loss for words, we just simply yell “Chicken!”

It was a really busy time for me and I was a bit frazzled.  Have you ever had one of those weeks?  Or months? (sigh).  When everything is going in every direction, and you have a hard time keeping up.  You have so many “balls” in the air and eventually one or all of them come crashing down on you.  Instead of exclaiming “chicken” they are yelling “failure”, “worthless”, “stupid”, “not enough.”  Those kind of days, weeks, or months are rough. I don’t know about you, but sometimes it’s really hard to pull myself out of them.

I had one of those weeks last week.  I mentioned in my last post some “not so nice” commentary that was out there on the internet.  It wasn’t just what the individual person said…it was all of the comments that followed.  A lot of people expressed their strong opinions in a very strong, negative way.  It was overwhelming…really overwhelming.  It hurt my heart.  It was discouraging.  I couldn’t stop it from occupying my thoughts.  (Ok…the song Let It Go just ran through my mind) Ugh.

My first reaction was one of wanting to run away…from the church…from my situation.  Honestly, I had just had it.  I was done.  I didn’t even want to go to church on Sunday.  I was trying to get over it, but I had a hard time quieting my mind.  I couldn’t get past asking God what He was doing.  I’m involved with the LGBT community because of my son…yes, but God has called me to put myself out there (one way is writing this blog).  And although the comments weren’t directed to me, they spoke volumes to me.  I felt like I had been kicked in the gut.  As I said before, I felt beat up.  I didn’t want to read the Bible and I didn’t want to pray.

So I started my prayers by literally telling God that I didnt’ feel like praying.  I told Him that I didn’t even know what to pray, and I sat with that for a few days.  I asked Him to soften my heart to those who persecute others without really knowing their story.  If I’m called to love, I can’t be selective in my love either.  Slowly He began putting the pieces of my heart back together.  He reminded me again that not everyone will delve into the reasons for homosexuality like I have because of my family.  I realized that I had taken it upon myself to try to change people’s minds about this issue. I can’t do that. It’s too big.  But although it is bigger than me, it’s not too big for my God. I’m just a messenger.  It’s up to God to do the rest.  I didn’t realize how much pressure I was putting on myself and when I read those comments I just felt like a failure.  If my journey makes just ONE person realize that this issue isn’t as black and white as we try to make it, then that is success.

Our devotion at staff this week was by Andy Stanley.  It was about living in the tension of grace and truth.  It helped me to realize that this tension I live in every day will not and should not go away.  It’s exactly where I am supposed to be.  Jesus was radical and often times his actions didn’t make sense to those who were used to dealing with the law.  I want to be like Jesus. Radical in my faith.  I don’t want to be a Christian…that’s not what the disciples were considered.  They were Jesus followers and I want to be a follower of Jesus.

These were good reminders for me this week:

It’s always good to remember that God is in control.  I needed to let go of control, and ask God to help me to not act out of control in my anger.  And although I would love to change the world, and hope to make a difference in it, I realize that I need to make the necessary changes in myself to make that difference. I will never have it all figured out.  That’s why this life is a journey.

 

So…who’s up for some radical love…because love matters.

 

coffee for your heart

At my wits’ end…

/ Lesa / 6 Comments

Wits-end-770x433I feel beat up.  It’s been a rough week. I’m going to heed my mom’s advice that I mentioned in my last post…if you don’t have anything nice to say….don’t say anything at all.  And I honestly don’t have anything nice to say.  I am frustrated.

Here are two things that have come out this week:

John MacArthur was recently asked by a reader how they should respond to an adult child who has acknowledged they are gay. His parenting advice?

Alienate them.

Separate them.

Isolate them.

Refuse to have a meal with them.

Turn them over to Satan.

 

Then there was this:

Scott Esk is a conservative Republican running for a seat in the Oklahoma state Legislature, and he says he wants to apply Biblical principles to Oklahoma law. He also thinks that gay people should be put to death by stoning. And he isn’t doing much to hide the fact that he believes gay people deserve to be murdered, either.

I just don’t have any words to convey what this feels like.  My heart isn’t in the right place so I’m going to sit with it for awhile.  Prayers appreciated.