I can wait.

About a week ago, I was on the receiving end of some pretty sad emotional wounds. Church is hard, dating is hard, family is hard, and I'm just not adjusting very well to life away from what is familiar.

The straw finally came on Wednesday when I found out that a friend of mine had been lying about stuff to avoid hanging out with me. I felt betrayed and cheap and sad and I immediately started weeping bitterly.

As a sidebar, I often feel as though God chooses to love me in a passive-aggressive way.  I feel incredible guilt when He blesses me, but when life is difficult for whatever reason,  I always interpret it to be a manifestation of His anger.  I'm not blaming any of this on Him, but I can't seem to ever feel His love.  I always feel like He's either dangling blessings in front of me and then guilting me when He gives them, or He withholds love from me like a petulant child.  Unconditional love is not something I understand.

As I cried silently into my pillow, I prayed that if God knew the end from the beginning, then He knew how my story was going to turn out.  I asked Him to tell me if things ever got better and if I'd ever be happy somehow. Almost immediately, I felt calm and tranquil and knew that my happy ending would come, even if I didn't know how or when.  I knew that God knew, and without putting any qualifications on it, He gave me that knowledge to calm me down and help me feel peace.

I was still sad, but the tears stopped flowing and for the first time in a LONG time, I felt humble. I said, out loud, "Okay, I'll wait.  I can wait for things to be good."

Things aren't good.  But they will be good.  And that's enough.  I can wait.

Finding courage and expunging pride

Alright, so I kind of mentioned this yesterday, but it took me all of three hours of being home from vacation to remember how difficult and tricky life could be.

While I was on vacation, I made a very concerted effort not to think about gay stuff. It came into my mind as frequently as ever, but I tried really hard not to think about it.  One thing that certainly helped was how difficult it was to be where I was. I spent my month in a Spanish-speaking country where it was hard to understand others or make myself understood, so lots of my energy was spent thinking in Spanish and trying to understand out the language better.

If you believe Maslow's hierarchy, which I sometimes don't, you know that if your more basic needs aren't being met (food, water and sleep), then you don't have the time or energy to think about higher needs (shelter, clothing, feeling appreciated, meaningful work). In that respect, my need to understand and be understood by the Spanish speakers around me superseded my religious or emotional needs. Being away was a great time to do something that had nothing to do with Mormonism or homosexuality, and yet was constructive because I was learning a new language and culture.

However, there were moments, even over there, when it was difficult to ignore my sometimes-dualistic feelings towards the LDS church and towards my orientation.

Seeking inspiration and guidance

These last few weeks, I've been practicing praying about almost every decision. I haven't taken it as far as praying about which breakfast flakes to buy or which tie would go better with my pink shirt (for all the "G" in my "MP," I cannot for the life of me coordinate colors), but I'm still seeking guidance a whole lot more than I used to.

This last week, I've had a couple pretty significant decisions looming over my head. Both had potential for semi-catastrophic financial loss and some emotional distress. I had already made one decision, which opened the possibility for another. I had prayed about the first and felt good about the choice I'd made, even though it made me kind of sad.  Anyway, I was praying about decision two and initially felt incredibly apprehensive. I figured that was my answer and just about moved on, but I ruminated for just another minute and that apprehension started to subside, replaced with some confidence.

That kinda worried me. The apprehension was sudden and fleeting and it was replaced with confidence, but I couldn't really tell which feeling was the one I should heed. They say that your first impressions are usually the most correct, but the second impressions were more powerful and long lasting.

Anyway, I went about my day with that question in the back of my mind. I asked close friends and family to pray that I'd be able to understand which was the right decision.  I went to campus devotional, which was about the need for righteous desire to be the foundation of any decision.  I began to ponder if this question I had was a righteous desire or not, and then it hit me: God doesn't care about this financial decision. I don't mean that he was apathetic about it or about me, but to him, it didn't matter which choice I made.    The devotional's message wasn't speaking to my financial concerns, it was speaking to my spiritual concerns.

God is more concerned with my righteous desires to aspire in his gospel and to serve him in his appointed way than he is with my righteous desire to make money and become more financially successful and independent.  While those goals I have to be richer and live more comfortably are righteous and worthy goals, I have enough work to do in more eternal senses; in that respect, my time would be better spent asking for advice in those areas.

I know that God cared about that financial decision I made yesterday and as the day went on, I felt more and more confident that I was making the right choice. But I also know that by blinding myself with things that don't really matter, I almost missed something that did. I'm going to continue praying for advice over more trivial matters, but I also am resolving to spend as much time praying for advice over eternal principles.