Christ's love

In my first appointment with my bishop here in Idaho, he advised me to continue to use my calling as a Sunday School teacher to testify of what I knew.

People keep telling me my testimony is stronger than I give credit for.  I disagree. But I'm gonna try and testify today, at least for a few minutes. It's a rough day and I have a lot on my mind and a few things to stress about this week, but I need to take a break for a few minutes and think about something else.

I know that God loves us infinitely and that his power to forgive is far beyond what we could possibly understand or perceive. Unlike us mortal beings, God's capacity for love and forgiveness has no limit. We can never go too far for him to help us return.

In a like manner, Christ loves us and understands us perfectly.  He can help us, we just need to figure out how to let him.

So there it is.  Short and sweet. My simple, small testimony.

Hefting my testimony

In the introductory pages to the Book of Mormon, the testimony of its divinity is given by not only Joseph Smith but also by 11 other witnesses who either met the Angel Moroni or who saw the plates before they were taken back to heaven.  What's interesting to me is that while many of these witnesses eventually left the church, some never to return, none of them ever recanted this testimony they gave of the Book of Mormon and its origins.

Right now, in addition to a few other things I'm working on, I'm trying to gain a testimony of the Book of Mormon. I've read it a few times before and prayed and pondered over it. I've had good feelings about the book, but nothing as equivocal as Jeffrey R. Holland's testimony of it given in his October 2009 conference address, wherein he said "...I want it absolutely clear when I stand before the judgment bar of God that I declared to the world, in the most straightforward language I could summon, that the Book of Mormon is true..."

One thing I found interesting as I started reading from the beginning last night was the word choice the eight witnesses of the gold plates used.  They said, "And this we bear record with words of soberness, that the said Smith has shown unto us, for we have seen and hefted, and know of a surety that the said Smith has got the plates of which we have spoken" (The Testimony of Eight Witnesses, emphasis added).  They saw the plates and they hefted them. I imagine them holding the plates in their hands and doing a light bounce with their arms to measure the weight of the plates, tracing the engravings and playing with the rings with which they're bound and running their fingers on the thick gauges of gold.

That's what I did last night. The plates weighed on my mind.  I felt them with my heart and I gave them a gentle shake to feel the gravity and truth of the words they contain.

Good word, eh?

My Favorite Christmas Story

Merry Christmas to the blogosphere!

Last week, a girl I home teach and I sat down, shot the breeze for a little while, shared our holiday plans and current activities, and made our way to the lesson.  It was my turn to teach, so I decided to share a Christmas story.  I'll share it here as well.

Wallace Purling was in the second grade, but he should have been in the fourth.  He was big and clumsy, but was liked by all of the children in his class, who were much smaller than he was.  He had a kind heart, quick to come to the defense of anyone who he felt was being mistreated, and so gained the respect of everyone who knew him, even the boys who'd try their best to hide their frustration whenever slow, dim-witted Wally tried to play ball with them.

Christmas was getting close. The teacher had been preparing the class for the Christmas pageant since all the way back in October.  Wally wanted to be a shepherd so he could hear the angels bring their glad tidings and invite him to visit and bear testimony of the baby Jesus, but the teacher thought that having that many directions on stage would be difficult for Wally.  She reasoned that being the innkeeper would be a much better job for him.  After all, the innkeeper only had two lines to learn, and Wally's size would make him much more intimidating and convincing as a callous innkeeper than a meek shepherd. Wally was disappointed, but took his part with a willing heart and set about learning his lines immediately.

Well, the night of the pageant came.  The whole town showed up to see the children portray the night of our Savior's birth.  Little Joseph and Mary wandered about, searching for a place to rest for the night.  Tender Joseph walked up to the inn's door.  Wally flung open the door with a brusque gesture.  "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Please, sir," the little boy pleaded, "my wife Mary is with child and needs a place to sleep tonight."

Wally stood in the door, silent.  The audience began to feel awkward as they watched him, thinking he'd forgotten his lines.  Tears filled his eyes.  Somewhere offstage, the teacher whispered, "No, be gone. There is no room for you here," hoping to prompt Wally on.

With a choking voice, Wally repeated the line.  Joseph hung his head and turned to walk back to Mary. Wally should have walked back into the inn and closed the door, but stood and watched the forlorn mother and her husband with concern, great big tears rolling down his cheeks and a horribly depressed look on his face.  And then this pageant became different from every other.

With tears still filling his eyes he called, "Joseph, wait!  Come back! Bring Mary!"  And then, with a bright smile he said, "You can have my room."

Some in the town thought that Wally had managed to ruin the show, but most think that it was the most Christmas of any pageant ever.

As I told this story, my eyes too filled with tears and my voice broke.  I realized how important and amazing all of my Christmas chores were.  In the challenge of finding the perfect gifts for my family, making time for those in my life whom I love, and completing those necessary tasks I had, I'd lost the spirit that Wally showed.  I had no room in my heart for loving those I was serving, and so had no room for the Savior.  I came away with a new hope for my Christmas.  I wanted to give and get good gifts and I wanted to find the perfect tree for my family and I wanted to party with my friends, but the motivation was much more people-based.  My friends and family were no longer items on my checklist, but people I genuinely loved and wanted to see happy. And, as awesome as the first half of December was, the second half has been much, much better for it.

Merry Christmas.  I love those of you I know and I want to know those of you I don't know, so I can start loving you too.  Because God loves you.  Jesus Christ loves you.  Our Savior lives.  He was born to show us the way back to our Heavenly Father and through the grace of His Atonement, we are saved.  

Circling the Wagons

I just found out about the Circling the Wagons conference this last weekend and I'm sad I didn't know about it in time. I'm not really plugged in to the gay-and-Mormon blogosphere, which I generally think is a good thing. I follow a few people here and there, but generally, I like my solitude when it comes to gay men.  I don't have a very good track record of managing relationships with them.  However, I was feeling that isolation today when I realized I missed what could have been a good experience. 

Circling the Wagons is a large-scale conference held in Salt Lake City for gay and lesbian Latter-Day Saints and members of other faiths, or even for those reaching out to either the religious or the gay, or both. I'm sure there's a lot of agenda going on, probably a lot of agenda that might be damaging to my spirituality, but there was one speaker I'd have loved to hear: Bishop Kevin Kloosterman. 

Bishop Kloosterman spoke in the Sunday morning interfaith worship service on the subject of finding peace within.  He spoke on the homophobia in the world at large, calling it "an atrocity" that LGBTQ people of any faith had to deal with any manner of persecution. 

In a clarifying interview with Joanna Brooks, Bishop Kloosterman outlines his quest for knowledge about the whys and wherefores behind homosexuality, especially as it relates to members of the Church.  Having been a bishop for a few years, he felt prompted to learn more about the nature of the battle, even though he'd never encountered it in his life, either with himself, family members, friends, or even members of his ward. (That surprised me.  I honestly thought that every ward had at least one.)  In any case, this came to a boiling point for him recently when Salt Lake experienced three hate crimes directed at homosexuals in a short time.  The bishop explains that it was no longer time to be a Levite, so he started getting more active in the gay Mormon community.

He further clarifies his statements made at the conference, saying that he upholds the standard that the Church has planted regarding homosexuality.

"The way the Tribune reports it takes my words out of context. I was not criticizing the Church. In fact, I felt and feel like we needed to support the leadership of the Church in their movements forward with our gay brothers and sisters."

I appreciate that sentiment.  I admit that in times of weakness I think that the Church is outdated and that homosexuality within the membership will be to the 21st century what being black was to the 20th century.  However, at my core, I believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ as it is revealed today to church leaders.  I also believe that things will work out in their own time and season, and while I'm not positive what form that they'll take, I still believe it.  So I appreciate that Bishop Kloosterman acknowledges both the struggle and the strides the leadership is taking towards spreading a gospel of love, while still upholding the standards of the Church. 

In any case, I don't regret not going to the conference too much, especially since this was the first Sunday in a very long time that I didn't leave my ward feeling hopeless.  It's good I stayed home, but I will definitely be Celestial-TiVoing Bishop Kloosterman's talk when I get to the other side.

Insignificant Death?

No death is insignificant. Everyone is valued by someone and death always leaves casualties behind.

That being said, my mom just told me today that one of our neighbors, a guy I went to elementary, middle, and high school with, died on Saturday night. Corey and I were friends in grade school. We rode our bikes around the neighborhood, he came over to play Playstation a few times, and we attended each other's birthdays every year (I still have the model Jeep he gave me once). We got into trouble hopping fences and I think I may have caused his front tooth to get knocked out when I distracted him and he ran into a parked car.

But in middle school, we definitely fell away from each other. We were never really the best of friends; I think our relationship was more one of convenience than anything else. We remained friendly all through high school and even started hanging out a little more when he joined theatre our senior year, but we weren't ever besties. He was a nice, nerdy, funny guy who I occasionally shared classes and friends with.

As such, his death is insignificant to me, at least in a strictly external way. Aside from not seeing him anymore when I mow his neighbor's lawn, I don't need to adjust my life for his absence. That doesn't make him insignificant, though.

For one, he is leaving behind a family that will feel his death forever. His sister and him began to have a good relationship in high school, when their gender and age differences faded within newfound maturity and common interests. And no mother ever wants to bury a child. I've heard it said that bereaved parents often feel an irrational guilt for outliving their child, somehow unable to protect them from their death. I wish I could unlock that door for Corey's parents to realize that nothing could have been done to save him, but no amount of logic ever seems to displace that awful feeling a parent has.

And when I say nothing could have been done to save Corey, I really mean it. Corey died of "unknown and sudden medical emergency," not of overdose, accident, suicide, or terminal illness. From what I hear, he was fine one minute and dying in an ambulance the next.

For me, the cause of his death implies the most in my life. I am not a fear-based person, but what terror his death strikes in my heart! To die, not as the result of my own poor choices or the poor choices of others, or even as a result of my infirm body! Corey likely didn't know his body was infirm until the minutes before he died, so it must have taken him (and his family) completely by surprise. Was he ready? Would I be ready?

I shed tears for Corey and his family when I heard the news. He had great potential, and while I know with no doubt that God has a plan for us, it still saddens me to see this fellow Warrior, Rensselaer graduate, and 4.0 student stricken down before he could achieve his full mortal potential. He leaves in his wake a sea of loving friends and family and an ocean of distant admirers like me. It's all in the plan, but that doesn't make the people mourning right now feel any better. We just wish we had more time with him.

His life wasn't insignificant, and just because it may not mean a lot to my daily life, he still made me think and ponder one last time. Please, pray for those who are more affected by his death than I am.

To those who knew Corey, there will be a life celebration on Saturday, July 23rd, from 2-4pm at Evergreen Memorial Park in Corey's beloved Colorado Rocky Mountains.

My First Audio Post! Getting to Know the Savior

I did an exercise in one of the student organizations I'm a part of this week about the Savior's love and I really wanted to share it, but it doesn't lend itself well to the printed word, so I decided I'd try my hand at an audio post.  I hope you'll humor me and listen to this five-minute audio clip.

Oh, PS, I jumped off a 100-foot bridge today.  I suppose "jump" is the wrong word for "rappel," but either way, it was awesome.

Ignorance or Apathy?

It is impossible for a man to be saved in ignorance.

Doctrine and Covenants 131:6

A few weeks ago I posted something in which I said that I was jealous of those who don't have the internal conflict Mormon homosexuals face.  Either they are heterosexual and have testimonies or are homosexual and don't, so either way there are few obstacles to their happiness.

The next day I came across the above scripture.  It slapped me in the face a little bit, especially regarding the envy I had been feeling for others who may fall in the "ignorant" category.  (Again, a disclaimer:  I'm talking hypothetically.  My knowledge is not your knowledge.  These are my thoughts as they apply to me.)

First off, I feel like this scripture needs a little clarification (gospel of gmp here, not doctrine). If a man is born gay or develops gay tendencies or whatever the current scientific opinion is, but never hears the Gospel, this scripture doesn't say that this man is damned because of his ignorance.  He will hear the Gospel and will then have the opportunity to accept or reject it.  That is a basic principle that applies to everyone.  So instead of ignorance, I think this scripture instead is referring to apathy, like it says in its footnote.  The same book of scripture says that many are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it, not because they don't care about finding it.

As I was reading and thinking about this scripture, I came to a conclusion or two.  I have received a witness of some of the laws of God.  No amount of jealousy for those who haven't will make that witness go away.  In addition, I wasn't coveting their ignorance, I was hoping for apathy.  I was seeking a mindset where I didn't care about the truth enough to have it stand in my way of living a gay lifestyle.

I'm going to really try hard to eliminate that envy I have for other people.  No amount can change my circumstances, and that jealousy can become twice as damaging when it's directed at a mindset that ultimately is damaging.  I do have a testimony and I also am gay.  That is my reality and I can't create the ignorance or apathy required for my life to change.  The only thing I can do to make things better is learn more about the nature of my life and go from there.  

Is the problem ignorance or apathy?  Hey, I don't know and I don't care.

Jimmy Buffett

Sharing the Gospel Through Social Networking

According to the Mormon Facebooksphere, today is the day to spread the Gospel through social networking.  I'm not big on being part of the crowd; in fact, if you want me to not do something, tell me everyone else is doing it.  But, I do have some semblance of a testimony, so I'll share it today.

This song has been stirring my soul lately.  I'll just jot down a few of my favorite lyrics if you're too lazy or busy to listen to it:

How long can rolling waters remain impure?  What pow'r shall stay the hand of God?

So hold on thy way, for I shall be with thee, and mine angels shall encircle thee.  Doubt not what thou knowest.  Fear not man, for he cannot hurt thee.

And with everlasting mercy will I succor thee, and with healing will I take thee 'neath my wings, for the mountains shall depart and the hills shall be removed and the valleys shall be lost beneath the sea, but know my child, my kindness shall not depart from thee!

I've said it before, I think, but music is one of the best weapons in anyone's arsenal to get me to listen to a message, and this one speaks peace to my soul.  It tells me that no matter what I am called upon to bear, things will work out for my good.

(I'm feeling somewhat hypocritical, because last night I was talking on the phone with a friend about how obnoxious it can be when people nullify or trivialize their complaints or the complaints of others by saying things like, "Eventually it will work out," or "God is trying to teach me something."  But as annoying and condescending as those words are to hear in the moment, they're still true.)

The message of the song is easier for me to hear right now, as I'm still pretty happy about life.  But even when things have been bad, this song and its message have spoken profound peace to my erstwhile stricken heart.

Isaiah 54

Warplanes

I love airplanes.  My brother is a private pilot and he's taken me up a few times in the little Cessna he flies.  He's given me the stick, allowed me complete control of the plane, and let me call flight control using that unbelievably awesome jargon pilots use ("Dillingham Tower, this is November Hotel 1-6-5 Foxtrot, turning south at the point towards Kalaeloa." So cool.)

I also love seeing planes overhead.  There's a regional airport near my home that services a number of small private jets, local prop planes, and replica and vintage World War II fighters that usually end up flying low over my house.  I can't help but look up like a 5-year-old kid whenever I hear one pass over.

Today, I was in the waiting room of the plasma center in town (I'm poor, don't judge).  Saving Private Ryan was playing on the flat-screen.  I don't really care for that movie, but it always elicits a reaction of gratitude and humility from me whenever I watch it.  I'm so impressed and thankful for the men and women who have served and are serving our country.  Even though I'm a peace-freak, I understand the love of country and the hatred of oppression that has motivated people to join the armed forces.

Back to the airplanes, in one of the final scenes of the movie, the American soldiers are garrisoned in a small village, trying to fend off the incoming German armies and therefore save lives of other soldiers, or something to that effect.  I haven't seen the entirety in years.  In a traditionally monomythic fashion, the Americans look to be winning, then start getting worked over by the vastly-outnumbering German armies, until they receive assistance literally from above.  Several P-51 Mustangs come flying in and begin using anti-tank artillery to take out the offending enemy.  In a miracle of good timing, the ground troops are saved from their antagonists, just when they needed it most, by people who had a wider perspective and greater capacity than they did.

I like thinking of it like a metaphor.  I'd explain it, but I think it's pretty cut and dry.  What assistance from above have you experienced?

The Power of a Good Support System

I've mentioned time and time again how amazing and supportive my family is with regard to who I am and what I deal with in my day to day life, but my support network goes so much farther than that.

Yesterday, after church, I got to let another person into that aforementioned inner circle when I sat down to speak with my new bishop, Bishop G.  He had issued me a couple callings the month before, at which time I told him that I wanted to go on a mission soon and felt like I was ready to put in my papers.  He advised me to make an appointment for the next Tuesday and we could talk about it.  I forgot to do so for awhile, then I tried to make the appointment several times, but our schedules never meshed.  Finally, he asked me to meet him after ward choir (my new calling; expect entries to be forthcoming), and I agreed.

However, I was reluctant to go to the meeting.  Without getting into too much detail, I slipped up a few times in the last week with regard to pornography.  I was dreading telling him that, after 6 months of worthiness, I fell back into an old habit.  Still, I knew that I needed to tell him and be completely honest, so that when I do finally get my shit together and serve a mission (can I say those words in the same sentence?), I can do it completely worthily.  During the sacrament and throughout the day, I prayed that the Lord would help me be completely honest with Bishop G. and that I'd have the courage to do what is right for once this week.

Bishop's friendly, good-ol'-boy smile greeted me as I sat down.  He asked how choir went, congratulated me on my new calling as a priesthood instructor, and began lauding praise on how committed I was to my callings, to my family home evening group, and to my home teaching.  With each additional layer of laud, my heart sunk deeper and deeper into my chest, dreading the moment I'd hack away his respect for me.

Finally, he said, "Now, last time we met, you mentioned you wanted to start your papers.  Shall we get started?"

I interrupted him and told him how I'd been feeling in the last few days and what I'd done.

His expression didn't change.  He maintained his sincere smile.  His eyes kept their gaze into mine.  He said, "Okay, well, let's get that taken care of and we'll get the mission papers in a little later."

Like any good bishop, he began to pry a little into the nature of the pornography.  Was it illegal?  (No.)  Did it involve children?  (No.)  Did it involve members of the same gender in homosexual activities?  (Yes.)  <Pause>  Did it involve men?  (Yes.)

Again, his lightheartedness didn't subside, even in the face of the gravity of my last statement.  He looked at me and asked me if I regularly experienced those feelings of attraction to men.  I confirmed that I did.  Now, he looked at me with even more love than before.

He said that I felt those things because I was destined for greatness.  He confirmed, once again, my faithfulness in my callings and my willingness to serve.  He told me that, although they were bad habits, pornography and masturbation did not define my church membership or my worthiness as a son of God. He chastised me to remove those bad influences from my life immediately, but that they did not overpower my good qualities and could never overpower God's love for me as His son.

We talked for a long time.  He empathized with my plight.  He told me frankly that my life might never get much easier and the feelings of homosexual attraction might never fade.  He even acknowledged that I might never get married in this life.  And yet, his advice never came off as negative.  It was realistic, full of hope that someday things might change, but even more full of hope that no matter what happens, I will come out conqueror if I do what's right.

We set some great short-term goals for taking the sacrament and getting my expired temple recommend back, and our meeting was over.

What I can't adequately describe is the feeling of love my bishop instilled in me. I've had bishops in the past who could lecture for hours on the psychological causes of same-gender attraction, but might never really understand how it makes me feel.  I've had other bishops who advise that a mission might not be the best choice for a person in my situation.  I had a bishop who was a great motivator, but often did it by stern admonishment and chastisement.  All of these have been effective tools that my bishops have used and all of my bishops have inspired new ideas and powerful insights.  But sometimes confidence and love were absent in those admonitions, lectures, and bits of advice.

Bishop G. inspired confidence in my ability to serve admirably.  His lack of scientific knowledge was offset by a serious outpouring of love and solidarity.  His calls to repentance, while motivated by my unrighteous actions, were loaded with love and respect.  I left his office in tears, but not tears of fear, sadness, or worry.

I have faith that all of my bishops used methods that were effective and yielded results for me at the time. I also have faith that every single one of them was motivated by love and concern for my well-being. I'm just grateful that at this stage in my life, I have a bishop whose love isn't hidden and whose respect is obvious.

Some Thoughts I've Had This Week

This week, I went on a retreat for a volunteer activity I'm involved in now.  There were your typical getting-to-know-you games, funny confessions of embarrassing moments, a meat-and-cheese sandwich lunch, skits, the whole, Mormon-roadshow nine yards.  It was a really fun day that has me excited to work with the other volunteers for two hours a week.

At the end of the retreat, there was a congregational meeting and spiritual thought given over the power of volunteering and the similarity to the Atonement that service to others has.  It was a pretty good meeting, one that made me feel good for volunteering, but there wasn't anything too earth-shaking or faith-affirming given in the meeting until the very end.  A video about the Atonement was shown, and if I'm honest, it wasn't a video I was really interested in watching.

Lately, spiritual experiences have been very bitter for me.  Part of that is related to my current status as a sinner, but much of it comes from this feeling of abandonment I've felt for the last few weeks. I know that Heavenly Father will never forsake me, and yet, for the last several days, I've felt lonely and depressed.  I've spent some nights checking my phone and my Facebook every three minutes, hoping someone texted or someone sent me a message or a chat.

In any case, the video about the Atonement played.  I experienced every emotion I expected: marvel at the Savior's strength in the Garden, shock and horror at the awful events on Golgotha, joy and peace on Sunday morning, and hope that someday I too can experience that peace in real life.  But after the video, a quote was shown on the screen.  It was taken from an address given by then-Elder Henry B. Eyring:

"Whether or not you choose to always remember Him, He will always remember you."

What a perfect way to end the meeting!  I felt real tears, rather than the rote ones from before, begin to wet my eyes.  I could feel my throat choke up a little bit.  My body's twitching and fidgeting began to subside.  A strangely bitter peace washed over me: bitterness for the lack of reverence I've had lately for my Savior, but peace knowing that He would wait for me to come to Him.

Then, a few days later, at the campus devotional, one of the hymns was, "Master, the Tempest is Raging."  A line in the chorus struck me:  "No waters can swallow the ship where lies the Master of ocean and earth and skies."

Am I a ship wherein the Master lies?  If so, then nothing can swallow me up.  I fully admit that I have lots and lots of work to do in that regard, but if I strive to be a vessel in which the Lord can dwell, then what need have I to fear?

 Robert C. Oaks, a former member of the Quorum of the Seventy, has this to say on the matter:

"The Gospel of Jesus Christ is not a gospel of fear; rather it is a gospel of joy, peace, and hope."

Amen.

Inspiring People I - Ryan and Rachel

FYI on Rach and Ry is a blog written by a friend of a friend, whom I've met a few times in passing.  The blog is written mostly by Rachel as she chronicles her and Ryan's marriage.  My favorite topics are the ones about their pursuit of a forever family.  The details are on the blog and I don't feel like I should share them on mine, but they have had a wonderful, terrifying, inspiring time navigating the world of fertility and adoption.

I found the blog when a mutual friend posted a link to a post written after a few months of particularly trying experiences.  I started reading their blog late at night after I finished homework and would find myself sobbing in commiseration for their sorrow.  A quote that hits me hard every time I read it, as she talks about breaking bad news to their friends:

I didn't want to hear [my friends] say what everyone says , "It will all work out," or "Just have faith--it's all in the Lord's hands," or "It will happen when it's supposed to."  As true as those words may be, they aren't helpful.  Those words trivialize the pain that I am feeling now, in this moment.  Those words make me feel so alone.

I feel the same way sometimes.  I don't want to tell my parents or my siblings about having same gender attraction because I don't want to hear them say that it's all part of God's plan for me.  True or not, God's plan still really hurts sometimes.

Luckily for Rachel and Ryan (and for me), they had understanding friends who expressed their sorrow and shared in their grief with phrases of affirmation like, "This isn't fair," "We're sorry," and "We love you."  

That next day, Rachel posted this.  It neatly follows up the sadness of the day before with the perspective that only a day's time and a mature heart can bring.  She quotes Psalm 30:5 in the title:  "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."  What a touching, simple, and inspiring thought.  

Their story has a happy continuation, as they are now adopting a healthy baby boy, due in a few short months.  I look forward to seeing their lives unfold together and can't wait to see their family grow and thrive.  Rachel and Ryan's optimism through what must be one of the hardest trials for a family to go through inspires me to find more joy in my life.

Rachel and Ryan link My Kindness Shall Not Depart from Thee on their blog.  Have a listen.

Fast and Testimony Meeting

Today was fast and testimony meeting, wherein members of the congregation are welcome to stand and share their testimonies on a number of topics.  Testimony meeting is something I love, but it's also something that can peeve me out, because as you'd expect, giving the floor to a huge group of people usually results in a lot of irrelevance.

Still, there are always those who understand that testimonies are about gospel topics instead of thank yous or personal histories.  There was one of those today that pierced me pretty deep.  A nice looking kid in my ward stood up and started talking about something or other; the previous testimonies had numbed my attention a little and I wasn't paying attention too closely.  What caught my ear was when he started talking about how our anger often gets directed at Heavenly Father for our shortcomings.  He also said that oftentimes, we'll direct our frustrations in our lack of faith at the Lord for letting us have crises of faith.

I do that a lot and I know it's something I should work on.

The young man continued, saying that his anger shouldn't be directed at God when things go awry, as those challenges are meant to strengthen us.  I tend to scoff at those who are grateful for their trials, because trials suck and I like life better when it's easy, but for some reason this guy in my ward convinced me a little bit that he was actually grateful for the growth that results.  This is all stuff I know; I was just grateful that the message came during the small amount of time I was actually paying attention in church today.

This guy's testimony doesn't make homosexuality any easier to navigate and even right now, I'm fighting the urge to get bitter and annoyed because I have to deal with it, but still, hopefully some of what he was talking about will seep into my twisted brain.

While I wasn't paying attention, I decided to write down my testimony.  I didn't really feel like sharing it in front of the ward, mostly because I'm afraid my current bitterness and gayness might show through, but I wanted to have it out there so I could refer to it a little bit.  Here it is:

I have a testimony of God's love for His children.  Amid all the doubt I face about the church and my ability to serve the Lord and endure, I still know that God loves me.  Jesus Christ died for my sins and afflictions and suffered for my sorrows and depression.

I don't know the path my life will take right now, but I do know that God knows what is best and as I pray and do my best to do His will, eventually everything will be okay.

This is the part of my testimony that never has shaken.  I have ALWAYS known that God loves me and I've always had a very strong testimony of the work that Jesus did and does for me.  It's just the submission of myself to the Gospel that's given me trouble in the past.

I'm not going to lie; I'm still holding onto a hope that someday I'll feel that it's okay to be gay.  But I know I won't be able to feel that way without confirmation from the Spirit, so for now my main priority is following God's plan for me as I understand it and figuring out how to live with my issues and concerns regarding the Church's doctrine and lack of information about my struggle.  I know God won't change his will according to my desires, so I'll work on changing mine according to His.

The Challenge

Toby and I are trying to rebuild our friendship.  We had something of a falling out recently and we've both decided to alter some of our bad habits and try to be better friends for each other.

So yesterday, we went and grabbed some lunch.  We were acting normal again, joking and making fun and just being normal.  He's got a mouth, which I can usually handle except for the F-Bomb.  I hate it; it's the one word I don't say often and never in public, so I told him that I'd stop chewing with my mouth open (one of his pet peeves) if he stopped saying the F-word.  He agreed and after a few minutes of contemplative silence, he told me that he'd stop fooling around with other guys if I went on a mission.

Jaw, meet floor.

An online friend of mine and I were talking about same-gender attraction and what it is about certain people that attracts us.  I brought it up because I've been wondering what I'd do if I found a man with my same goals, if I'd be able to resist the desire to be with that person.  One of the things we agreed on is that faithfulness is an attractive quality.  And here was Toby, telling me that we should move forward in the Gospel by repenting and following the commandments.  He was submitting himself a little bit to the recommendations I'd judgmentally made for his life.

And that, paradoxically, made him so much more attractive to me.  I've referenced my safety net before, where I tend to like straight, faithful Mormon guys, but I've never had the experience of liking a gay, faithful Mormon boy. And ironically, dating a gay Mormon guy would put both of us in a life contrary to the teachings of the Church.  It's a weird little cycle I find myself in.

Anyway, I'm trying really hard not to take his challenge to me at face value.  I think I want to serve a mission and when I do, it won't be to get Toby to stop sleeping with men; it'll be for myself.  And if he wants to stop fooling around, his motivation will need to come from somewhere else besides me.  My mission's value is not dependent on his obedience, nor is his faithfulness contingent on my honorable service.

Still, it was nice to hear that he had a little desire to change on some level.

saved by grace

Yesterday, I was sitting in my apartment when two kids knocked on my door.  They introduced themselves as students from a Christian high school in Virginia who were learning about the LDS church in one of their classes.  The school organized a field trip for them and their classmates to come to a place with lots of Mormons so they could learn more.  They were really cool kids and very respectful and I loved chatting with them.  They invited me to their worship service that night, which I attended, and we went out to dinner afterwards and talked some good story.  

Old Journal Entry-II

Goal for this semester? Write a blog post entirely in Spanish. I bypassed the first year classes and start my Spanish 201 class tomorrow. Haven't taken a language class in five years and I'm pretty freakin' terrified about it, haha.

Here's another old journal entry from awhile back. I wrote this journal for a class and turned it in for the teacher to grade. I'm glad she read it. She offered a lot of interesting insights and called me candid, raw, and warm, which might be the greatest set of attributes ever ascribed to me.

If you haven't already picked up on it, I'm pretty damn emotional. Like, overly emotional and self-absorbed. And way into my problems. But this entry kinda explains why that is and how it's still beneficial for me and my spiritual growth.
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01/20/11

I’ve had an epiphany with this entry. Being in pain doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. Pain necessarily is a part of life and refusing to acknowledge it isn’t something that works for me. What I need to do, then, is take the edge off of the pain by seeing it for what it is, then seeing how the Lord is taking me through it. I will still feel that pain and envy towards those who seem to have it easier, but knowing that I can acknowledge my pain to the Lord and to those close to me will be a great blessing.

Sometimes, I get the feeling that I should just shut up about all my problems and start being more grateful for the gifts I’ve been given. I feel like I should have more faith to know that this too shall pass, come what may and love it, and all that. People say that all the time, but do you know how those sayings make me feel? In the words of a good friend, they “trivialize the pain.” And being in pain doesn’t make me less grateful for my car, my money, my schooling, my family, my job, etc. It just means I’m in pain.
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See? Way hung up on pain I have been this semester. But the growth comes when I acknowledge the pain, mourn a little, ask Heavenly Father what to do with it, and put it in the perspective of the parts of His plan that I understand. It's not a perfect system and eventually I'd like to cut the mourning part out of the cycle, but until that happens, I'm gonna keep trying to put things in perspective the way I know how.