LGBT

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.

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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.

Swimming against the tide…

/ Lesa / Leave a comment

The year was 2002.  It was a beautiful beach day at the beginning of our vacation.  We were with two other beach-chairsfamilies that we vacationed with each year.  Each family had two children and they were all close in age to each other which made it convenient. We rented an awesome beach house together.  Having six kids running around at the beach was a little hard to keep track of at times.  We were constantly scanning to make sure all kids were accounted for…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Usually they were in different configurations…two looking for sand crabs by the water’s edge, two building sand castles, two sun bathing, etc. but it was always the same scan…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

At one point during that morning, my son was out in the ocean getting ready to ride in some waves with my friend’s daughter. At the time, they were in water about knee-deep.  As the waves came towards them, they would rise with it doing the doggie paddle with their little cheeks puffed up as if to help them float.  I happened wavesto notice, however, that at the end of one of the rises it seemed they were unable to touch.  I watched as I saw panic enter their eyes as indeed they were in water over their heads.  I alerted my husband that they were in trouble. He and one of the other dads immediately ran into the water. Unfortunately they didn’t take floating devices with them and it wasn’t long before I could tell that the guys were also in trouble.  They were caught in a riptide, my husband and son being out the furthest.

Because it was the end of August, and the college kids were back at school, our section of the beach did not have a life guard.  They were spread out since they were short-staffed and the closest one was about 3 blocks away.  My friend starting running up the beach towards the life guard frantically waving her arms to get his attention.  It was her daughter that was in the water with my son.  Luckily she did not get pulled out as far and she and the dad who went out to help her got to shore pretty quickly.  That was not the case for my husband and son.

I couldn’t believe what was happening.  Every fiber in my body wanted to run into the water to help them, but I downloadknew it was useIess…they were out too far. There was nothing I could do…but pray.  I swear it was like I had laser beams coming from my eyes as I focused my prayers on them.  I could not take my eyes off of them and I just got the sense to NOT STOP PRAYING.

I could tell that my son was panicking.  His instinct was to swim toward shore to known safety.  However, that is the worst thing you can do if you are caught in a riptide.  My husband knew that they had to swim parallel to the shoreline to get out.  It didn’t take them long to get tired and at one point my husband tried to get my son to float on his chest so that he could paddle them both to safety.  It just wasn’t working.  Then it happened.  My son went under and he didn’t come back up.  I saw my husband go under after him and he lifted him up and tried pushing him sideways to get out of the current.  This continued for a bit.  And as my husband went under, my son came up, and as my husband came up, my son went under. I kept praying for their heads return to the surface.

I didn’t know it at the time, but my husband shared with me that as my son came out of the water coughing and spitting he would call out, “God please help us!  God save us!”  He was 10 years old and still believed in the miracles of God. He still believed that God loved him and would save him.  And as he was calling out to God from the ocean, I was calling out to God from the shore.  It was as if time had stood still, and I could tell that they were running out of energy.

I learned later that my husband reached a point where he had nothing left in him.  He just knew he was going to drown.  He just wanted to try to save his son.  So with the last bit of strength he had left, he went under one last time and pushed our son sideways.  And it worked!  The next wave that came brought him in to shore towards me…he was out of the current.  My husband says he blacked out after that and doesn’t remember anything.  He just remembers coming to with people telling him he was in shallow water and could touch.  He has no idea how he got there. We believe it was a miracle.  The life guard got to him just as he was in knee-deep water and helped him the rest of the way out.  When he got to the shoreline, he collapsed onto the sand from sheer exhaustion.

Have you ever felt like you’re swimming against the tide?  Does it seem like you know where you are supposed to go or what you are supposed to do, but you just can’t seem to get there?  Do you question God during these times? It’s ok to question.  Maybe you are right about where God is taking you…you just need to take a different path.  Stop swimming so hard against the tide.  Look at your situation with a different view.  Maybe God needs to teach you something before you reach your destination, or maybe there is someone you are supposed to take along with you and they aren’t ready yet.  Luckily God sees the big picture.  We can lean into Him and trust this journey that He has us on.  Take some time to hear His voice.  Ride the swell of the wave and enjoy the view.

pathWhen I first learned that my son was gay, my prayer life was fighting against the tide.  I thought the final destination that God wanted was for him to change.  So, that is what I prayed for…it’s what my son prayed for too.  But we couldn’t get to the shore.  I started to listen for God’s voice and began asking Him to help me to accept this new journey.  I did the opposite of the obvious with His guidance and started swimming parallel to the shore.  And along that process I learned that it’s really all about love.

Because love matters…