Homophobic Me

‎"My orientation does not define who I am. I am more than an orientation. That is only a part of me. I am who I choose to be." As posted by Jordan Nilson.

This was a headline that the Facebook group called "Homosexuality is NOT a choice, but homophobia is" recently put up on their page.

And since the word "homosexuality" seems to be defined by attraction and desire rather than a sex-related action, I would definitely agree with the name of the group.

"I am more than an orientation...I am who I CHOOSE to be." I love that. That's freedom. For me, that's hope.

We can not choose our obstacles (sometimes another word for parents) in life, but the choice is still ours to make in terms of our character. Everyday when I wake up and roll out of bed I make a choice. Most days I choose to be grouchy till I get some caffeine in me. But grouchy or not the choice is still mine.

This reminds me...
Most of the time I have a certain genre of music playing while I write. Occasionally, I will even play the same song over and over again depending on what is going on in my head and what works for what I'm trying to write. It helps me to stay on topic. Based on what was just said about "choice" and building up character, I have selected two.

To satisfy your curiosity....




I must confess MY prejudice.
I find it hard to have a sympathetic ear and mind to those who claim Christ and yet appear to be freely choosing to do something that I, myself, have been brought to repentance of. Even those who do not place themselves under the umbrella of faith and the Bible make me uncomfortable.

Ellen Degeneres is hilarious, I know. I love her voice over in Finding Nemo. Yet I can't watch her daytime talk show for more than a few minutes. It's not disgust that I'm feeling for her. It's embarrassment. Maybe I am sympathizing a little when I look at her. Possibly, I even see myself in her.

I can only imagine Ellen and I in a conversation together. She might try to tell me that there was no choice in her actions, and it's just who she is, how she was made. I lack tolerance for that.

The answer seems illogical to my reasoning and to following my own convictions.
Some say that there is no "absolute truth" or answer. Everything is relative and/or subjective to both the person and the situation. That too doesn't make sense to me. I understand the premise and why someone might see it that way. I do believe there are "grey" areas in certain circumstances, however, not in all.
There has to be a simple truth somewhere. After all, you can't have grey if black and white don't exist. Without digging out my color wheel, I'll move on.

Trying to find the right balance between a healthy understanding of what it means to be holy without feeling contempt for those that appear to out right break the rules (sometimes waving it in front of my face) has not been an easy task.
It could be jealousy. But mostly, I find it hard to comprehend why it is that they don't see what I've seen.

I'm not trying to justify any wrong feelings or thoughts I've had for anyone holding the label of "gay". I am only sharing with you what's been in my heart. But my heart is conflicted, and that is where my sympathy stems from. That is also where my hypocrisy finds me.

Again, I'm reminded of when I visited my friend in Chicago. Emily and I went to college together. We had shared a floor in one of the dorms and I even have some pictures of her from wedding reception. We had lost touch for a few years after, but that happens a lot in adulthood.
After talking for a while through online sites (Facebook etc) and over the phone, Emily finally spilled the beans to me. She had a girlfriend.

They had been together for a couple of years by then and I...I was floored by it. I did not feel disgusted by her confession. I felt relieved, happy even. I was excited to hear that I was not alone. Finally, I had found someone that believed in God and still had these feelings.

We arranged a visit at her place for a weekend. I wasn't sure quite what to expect. I had been around "gay" men and women before, but this was different somehow. This was the first time I had heard about other Christians who were gay. I had only seen my friends rejecting their faith or trading it for a different one. This was different.

I felt giddy about spending time with her and her girlfriend. And at the same time, I thought I needed to save her.
I told myself that I was going as a friend to spend time with a friend, but I also had another agenda, to share what God had done in my life thus far. My motivations were very unbalanced and filled with mixed emotions.

My first night there we all went out to a bar. I was actually kind of hoping that she would take me to a gay bar so that I could see what her life was like. Also..to be honest, I was kind of hoping to be hit on by a lady. That didn't happen. However, I did attract affection from a certain strange man from the table next to us.
That's a story for another time.

I also had hoped that Emily would take me to see the sites of Chicago. She did not disappoint. We went to Millenium Park and saw the big shiny bean. She took me shopping in Chinatown which was something I had wanted to do for a long time. And on Sunday all three of us took a bus to what Emily refers to as "Gay Church". It turned out to just be a Methodist church in a part of Chicago that is known for their "gay" population. Entering the doors and taking my seat for the service was actually more difficult than I'd anticipated.
I worried that everyone had me pegged as an outsider and were judging me already for judging them. I thought that they knew. Like they saw me as a "gay hater".
The only thing that seemed to calm that fear in me (enough to stay in my seat) was knowing that I had something in common with them.

Even though I still have difficulty overlooking what I see as sin in their lives (and in mine), I was actually inspired by the warmth and friendliness of the congregation. Everyone wore a smile and cared so much about the other people there. When the service was over, they were not all just rushing out the door to beat the waiting line at their favorite restaurant. No, they were talking, hugging, encouraging one another. All the things that many churches that I've been to are lacking in. They even welcomed me.

I definitely think that I was seeing a stereo-type of my friend the instant that she told me she had a girlfriend. The types that live in stereo tend to be the ones on the TV and all over the news. They are the loudest. We forget...I forget about the aunt, the brother, the sister, the son, or friend and co-worker that do not live within that box. They are more than just sex maniacs. They are more than just people that dress funny. They are ...human. And we are all children in grown-up clothes.
I forget to not be everyone's referee. I forget what humility feels like.

After my trip was over, and I came back home to my world and my family, I realized that I had went to Chicago looking forward to that stereo-type Hollywood gay weekend with my friend. Nervous about it even. Instead, she made me see that she's not so much different than me.

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Maybe not as harsh as I anticipated. I'm sure more could be said, but not tonight.

Next up: "Forbidden Love"

My fight to survive a friendship with a woman that I was attracted to.

Should be interesting...I can't wait to read it!