Defining this Blog

What's this log about? What are its goals? Who is the intended audience(s)? You tell me. I don't know.

I started writing because I like to. It's helpful to me. Cathartic.

But I don't want this blog to be about me. If it's helpful to me, great. But I want it serve a purpose for someone else.

So who?

I asked Josh for his comments and suggestions on things I write. So far he's not given many. When I pressed him about some specific things I'd written, he suggested that I 1) not write anything I wouldn't want my kids to read. After all, once something's on the Net, it's taken a life of its own and one cannot know who will see it or when. Good advice. Thanks, Josh.

He also suggested that I, perhaps, just write what I want at this point and see what direction things take and how the blog evolves; perhaps comments from readers (if I ever have any) will influence my direction. More good advice.

So, for now, I think I will just write about whatever I wish. Except that I do want this blog to serve one primary purpose: should the postings here ever be read by my children, I want them to find wisdom for prosperous living. Not just economic prosperity, but spiritual, emotional, relational...the whole human experience spectrum.

Pretty ambitious, I know. But I don't always communicate effectively with my kids orally. On balance, I'm better conveying my thoughts in writing. So I want this blog to represent a legacy that I can leave my kids. A collection of important things I want to share with them and teach them. An expression of my love for them and my blessing to them.

So, there you are.

Now it will be interesting to see how (or if) I accomplish my goal.

The Proximity Effect

A co-worker has recently gotten involved in local politics. It is one way she decided to re-engage in life and the lives of others after years of virtual hermithood. She's been all excited about it -- meeting new people, working for a cause, adding to her own sense of purpose and value. After only a few weeks, she confessed that, up close, politics is very different from how it appears from a distance. "Dirty," she said as she grimaced and gestured as if discarding a five-day-old soiled diaper into a wastebasket.



The other morning I was driving to pick my kids up to take them to school. I was running on the cusp of being late and, wouldn't you know it, I came upon an elderly lady in a Pontiac going 35 to 40 miles per hour down a road posted 45 mph and over which traffic usually flows 55 mph. I found myself emitting the negative waves toward her. I complained to the others in my head about how annoying elderly drivers are, how it was inconsiderate and more than irritating that she would bring her slow self out on the road in the middle of the morning commute.



Suddenly, I caught a certain glance, and the lady reminded me of someone else: an elderly lady from a former church whom I love very much.



Shame rushed over me. I realized that, were the driver my friend, I would not have fretted in the least. Instead, I would have had felt compassion and extended understanding. I would have been thrilled to see my friend out and about and still independent.



Simply because I didn't know the lady in front of me, I was impatient and filled with anger and even animosity.


These two episodes illustrated for me the powerful influence of proximity. How close or how far we are from another person, a given situation or an issue typically plays a major role in our response to that person, situation or issue.


The more I live, the more I realize how biased, emotional and otherwise colored our perspectives are on most everything we view. We don't look through eyes that illuminate and clarify; we see through all the variety of filters accumulated in our very personal and unique experience.


We like to think that we're objective and rational and reasoned and fair-minded. But I wonder: can we be?

Are we made capable of such qualities...truly, in reality? Or are we designed to respond based on experience...using history to inform and shape, sometimes dramatically influence, our perception of today and even tomorrow?

One thing I know is that the closer we are to something, the greater our sympathy and the greater our concern and even love. My theory is that this is a function of God's design. He's made us to want to know more than we do; to have more than we do; to experience more than we do. He wants relationship with us. And not just any relationship, but the closest of all relationships. He wants to be our Number One as we are his Number One creation. The Bible says he wants to have fellowship with us...continually.



Fortunately, God does not treat us the way we treat one another. He loves each of us. Not only that, he loves us perfectly. Not according to what we do, but simply because we are. We are his and he loves us for that reason alone.

I, for one, am so thankful for God's unconditional, never failing, ever constant love. It gives me security, assurance and comfort in an insecure, uncertain and painful world.


To love others, not because of what they do, but simply because they are: that is the standard for us to shoot for. Jesus said that is the greatest commandment: to love God with all our hearts, minds and souls, and to love others as much as we love ourselves (Matthew 22:37-39). He didn't include any conditions or limitations. He didn't say, as long as God blesses you or protects you from trouble. He didn't say, as long as your friends go along with what you want, or your spouse makes you feel loved and respected, or the lady driving in front of you goes fast enough.


Our calling is to love as God loves us. To love everyone that way. People we're close to as well as the stranger we've never met. People with whom we identify and feel comfortable, and those who repulse us, confound us, fill us with anxiety and unease. I've become convinced that we can only love God as well as we love others -- all others. I believe that's what the Bible means when it says the one who claims to love God but hates another is a liar (I John 4:20).


So what am I? I say I love God. Am I a liar? How well do I love him? All I have to do to answer that question is to examine how well I love others. All others.


It's a tough calling. It's part of what makes God God and us not.

Thank you, Father, for loving us so much better than we love others. Help us to love as you love. Amen.

Funny the Parallels

Driving across the southwest looking for a campground late one evening, we passed a billboard advertising a strip tease club.

"Elliot, would you like to go see a strip tease?", Mom asked me.

"Yeah! Yeah!", I replied excitedly.

I was 9 or 10 years old. Had no idea what Mom was talking about. But being an adventurous boy and having lay in the back of a Ford Torino station wagon for the better part of 10 hours, I was eager to do something -- anything -- else.

Mom, Dad and my sisters laughed uproariously. I was clueless.

Turns out, I was that way for years and years.

On that same trip (the same evening on the same drive, if I remember correctly), Mom asked us kids what our favorite song was. I said, honestly, "Amazing Grace."

I liked the tune of that hymn. And, given the environment in which I was raised, I had been exposed to no songs as much as traditional Christian hymns.

More of the reason for my choice, however, were the words of the song. I very much liked the idea of being saved. And of being found, not lost. (A recurring childhood nightmare of mine was being lost or left alone.) I liked being able to see. And I liked the assurance of the song; the promise that God was with me, would always give me comfort and, one day, would take me to heaven.

Even at a young age, I understood such things and of my need of saving. I knew that God's love for me and the mercy and grace he showed me, truly, were amazing. And I loved to sing the song that, in my opinion, best told about it.

As easy as it was for me to recognize that I had spiritually been lost and found, blind but now see, I was clueless about my sexual orientation.

Not until I had left home, married and had kids did I finally come to a point where I could no longer deny that I am gay. More profoundly, it was only after so much living that I could finally admit that I am gay.

I've been told I have the worst timing. Opening my eyes to the fact that I'm gay only after getting so deep into the heterosexual lifestyle...well, to say that I have bad timing is an understatement, is an understatement.

Looking back, my ignorance, stupidity, unfathomable denial -- however you want to describe it -- is bewildering. I look at pictures of me as a college student and ask incredulously, "How could I not SEE that I was gay?!!!!" Why did I think that my desires were just part of normal curiosity or the product of childhood experiences introduced by an older boy?

My mind was closed. Shut tight against the sin and perversion of homosexuality. It wasn't an option. I was normal. I was a Christian. People had expectations of me. I had expectations of myself. "Gay" was not an option. "Gay" did not exist in my world. "Gay" had no more to do with me than did Hare Krishnas, the Grateful Dead or Matt, my college crush.

Besides, I liked girls. I was attracted to them. They "turned me on." I fantasized about them. Even made out with a few. I wasn't gay. No way. No how. No question.

Well, long story short, as the song says:

I once was lost, but now am found -- was blind, but now I see.

I don't fully understand it. I'm still figuring it out. But as the hymn writer was found and given sight, saved and living in the promise of being led to the safety and security of home, so, too, did I finally find myself. I opened my eyes to who I am, to who I've always been. I see now how blind I was. And it's all by God's grace. He has made me whole. He has removed my fear, my guilt and shame. And I know he will lead me home. I know he's preparing a place for me for eternity.

"Amazing Grace" remains one of my favorite songs. I love it for its spiritual truths. And, now, I also love it for the way it affirms the truth of my life experience. I sing it in my heart more fully and more joyfully than ever. No longer just a favorite song, "Amazing Grace" is my song. The song of my salvation. The song of my identity. The song of the assurance that is my hope for tomorrow.

Perfect is God's providence in our lives. An old cherished hymn and a new cherished life: funny the parallels.

Paths Unpredictable

Have you ever wondered how on earth you got where you are? If you've lived much life at all, I strongly suspect you have. Seldom does life go as we once expected. Sometimes it goes better, sometimes not. But God seems to delight in showing the folly of our wisdom simply by not letting things turn out where, much less how, we planned.

The predicted path of my life was to lead to social and career success. Marriage. Fatherhood. Church and community service. I would live and die an honest, steady, and respected man. In every way I would live what, in this part of the world, is recognized as a traditional life.

The path of my life so far is as follows:

Social and career success. Marriage. Fatherhood. Church and community service. Honesty. Steadiness. Respect. A traditional life. As expected. Yet not.

My marriage failed. I finally admitted to myself and a few others that I am gay. I live a discrete life with my partner, Josh. My family knows about me and, while they don't shun or shame me because of it, it's not discussed and they, so far, don't invite me to include Josh in family functions.

My kids don't know about me or about Josh and me. They know Josh and deeply love him. He's like their favorite uncle. The feelings are very mutual.

The kids and I continue to attend the church we attended before the separation. It's a conservative mainline Protestant congregation where the sinner is loved but homosexuality is clearly not. Needless-to-say, it's not the best fit for me, but, with my divorce pending and my living arrangements still temporary, I'm loathe to introduce more change into the kids' lives.

Nor am I "out" at work. Being a family man for over 10 years and a Christian, people, naturally, make many assumptions about me. It's the label thing again. They assume I'm straight as straight can be. That I'm the stereotypical conservative gentleman that would give no moral quarter to anything outside the region's prevailing conservative values.

So, life right now is a balance. Between being honest with myself and others about myself without making disclosures that would serve only to hurt my family and associations.

This current location in life is no where I would have predicted. But here I am. It's no where I would have sought to travel. But it's where, by combination of my decisions and God's work, I have arrived.

And, it's okay. Not always pleasant. In fact, my divorce has been very distressing and wearying; much more so than necessary, but, thankfully, not as bad as possible. And my current lifestyle, between worlds, in both but not completely part of either, is uneasy. And, of course, my relationship with Josh -- wonderful, the most intimate and rich relationship I've ever enjoyed -- is constrained. We're unable to associate freely in public, unable to fully share one another's lives. Of course, that's par for the course for many if not most gays. (There are those fortunate few who live in communities that allow them the freedom to live without fear of recrimination or discrimination.)

So how is your life going? As expected? Or, as mine, are you finding your life going in directions and taking you places you never imagined?

While our life paths often take the unexpected turn, I, and I hope you, are not without confidence and joy in the journey. No matter where the path leads -- whether to the predicted or to the utterly surprising and sometimes foreign -- there is comfort and confidence in knowing that God is wherever I find myself and that He loves me and is actively shaping every circumstance for my good.

So surprise me away, Lord. Take me from the path I know and on which I'm comfortable and lead me down the path unknown and hidden. Take me to places unfamiliar. Show me sights unseen. Delight me in your presence and provision. And as I yield to your direction, make me a delight to you.

Extraordinary Friends, Extraordinary Gifts

For whatever reason, I've never been one to have lots of friends. Oh, I know a lot of people. And I'm known by many more. But I can count the close friends I've had in my life on one hand. Fortunately, I now have the best friend I've ever had.

Josh is an exceptional person. Generous and giving to a fault. One of the things I most admire about him -- his amazing gift of giving to others financially, in service, in companionship, in encouragement and support -- is one of my greatest deficiencies. While Josh unconsciously recognizes and zeros-in on the needs and desires of another, I naturally focus on myself. I have to work at putting others first. Josh has done it so well for so long, it's now his nature.

His gift extols a price. Financially, physically, emotionally and mentally. How he does for others all he does I simply cannot figure out. It seems humanly impossible to me. And maybe that's the key.

As a Christian, I believe that God has a purpose and plan for each of us. And that he gives us each one or more extraordinary gifts to use according to his plan. While our gift(s) may not start out as extraordinary, if we use them as intended, God develops and grows the gift(s) until it truly does become extraordinary -- supernatural, if you will.

That's why Josh can give to others in ways I cannot.

While Josh's giving exacts a cost to him, I am witness to the fact that he receives much more in return. The joy and contentment that is his when he knows he's made a difference in the life of another -- what price can be put on that? While I am sometimes concerned that he gives too much and that he neglects himself and does not say "no" when I think he should, I stand in awe of the gift God has given Josh and how powerfully it is manifested through Josh's faithful stewardship.

Josh is as good a friend as he is a giver. That's because a second extraordinary gift he possesses is loyalty. I could tell you story after tragic story of the sacrifices Josh has made and the trials he has endured for the sake of our relationship. Suffice it to say, he's a great friend. As I said above, my best ever and my life partner.

Josh inspires me to want to be a better giver and a better friend. He lifts me up and is truly a blessing from above. I pray I may be blessed with him for many, many years to come.

Father, thank you for the extraordinary qualities you possess and see fit to so graciously share with us. Thank you for the gifts of giving and loyalty that I and so many others enjoy so much in Josh. Bless him for using his gifts for the benefit of others and your glory alone. Reveal to each of us the extraordinary gifts you've given us. Help us to use them according to your plan. And in so doing, make us extraordinary friends to others.

The Genesis

This is it. The start. The beginning. My first post.

Likely you wonder what this blog is all about. We'll discover together.

I'm an American. Southern. White male. Politically conservative leaning. Religiously-speaking, a Protestant Christian; some would say fundamentalist. The last child in a family of seven. Middle class. Well educated. Professional. Single parent. And gay.

There is enough in that paragraph to make anyone dismiss me and anything I may have to say out-of-hand. And, surely, there are more than a few who would conclude that I've already violated the premise of this blog...honesty. After all, how can a Christian be gay? How can a gay man be politically conservative? How can a Southerner be well educated?!

That is, if you judge the worth of others by labels.

You need to know the above so that you have some feel for my perspective. For how I see the world and our place in it. Our location, environment and daily relationships influence so heavily how we think, act and understand the world around us. Thus, you need to know some of the influences on me.

The greatest influence on me, not surprisingly, was my parents. They're both dead now...killed tragically in separate accidents (but that's a topic, perhaps, for another day). They tried to be the best people they knew to be. Both were hard working, honest, and valued their good names. They grew up during the Great Depression and were characteristically influenced by it. Both were raised in Christian homes, albeit both far from ideal environments. Mom's childhood was the most interesting. (Again, a story for another post.)

Mom and Dad taught us right from wrong and did their best to live the right. They were good and consistent role models. Affectionate. Willing but not overly quick to praise. Willing but not overly harsh to discipline. Consistency characterized everything about them. As did their love for each other, their children and others. They were, as we say, "salt of the earth" kind of people. They made me proud to be their son.

I realize what a tremendous advantage this was to me. Several of my closest friends come from shockingly abusive homes, had parents who were neglectful or parents who were the best intentioned but just didn't know how to give their kids what they needed. It has been an awakening for me to come to understand how different my childhood was from so many others, and how blessed.

In a recent conversation with my partner, Josh, I observed that I didn't learn how to recognize or effectively cope with manipulative behavior by others. I couldn't predict or defend against it. I found myself surprised when others practiced skillful deceit. (Lying I knew about, and had practiced. But deceit through cunning, calculation and duplicity -- that was foreign and unfamiliar.) In adulthood, I was having to learn to accept that some people simply live by deceit and manipulation because that was how they were raised and they know no other way to live. I observed to Josh that I was so thankful that I was having to learn to recognize and cope with manipulation and deceit rather than learn how to love someone else. The advantage of being taught all my life how to love was mine.

To love another and see and seek the best in them is natural for me. To forgive usually comes pretty easy. And it's no credit to me; it's a credit to my parents, our friends and extended family. I can learn to recognize and defend against manipulation and deceit much more easily than another can learn, as an adult, to love selflessly. And that explains so much for me about certain relationships in my life.

Relationships that I've struggled to understand, pained to figure why someone behaves the way they do and makes the conscious decisions that they do. Decisions that predictably harm themselves as much and, usually, more than others. Self-destructive decisions that make no rational sense. Decisions borne out of warped life perspectives modeled and learned. Perspectives of cynicism, suspicion and distrust, insecurity, fault, blame and defensiveness; bitterness, rage, unforgiveness; victimhood.

I've seen these things up close, though am blessed not to be possessed by them. We are all tempted by each from time to time. And we all succumb in varying degrees on occasion. But for such perspectives to be our "normal" condition...how tragic! How much pain! What absence of joy, what slavery. Oh, that everyone who has been taught to see the world and all in it as suspect would learn a new way! Oh, that a Genesis would destroy the evil done and create new minds of love, joy and hope.

God, work in each of us the Genesis we need. Bring others into our lives who would be agents of unconditional love. Help us to love and forgive others, this Easter season and always, as you love and forgive each of us.