Recently, I was studying the Old Testament book of Haggai when a particular memory came to my mind with a freshness that shook me to the core. I was reminded anew how much it, too, has significantly impacted my heart on my journey of faith and love.
It was a regular Sunday morning. I attended Sunday School and the teacher's lesson covered the special love God demonstrates by designing each person in a unique way. My 9-year old brain registered how nice it felt to think that, long before I was born, God's eyes saw me as being truly special. It brought comfort to my heart to entertain the thought that the Father crafted every detail, nuance, and contour of my whole being with His skillful hands.
Of course, I immediately thought of all the wonderful traits, qualities, and skills that earned me human praise and approval:
- A pretty voice
- A gentle spirit
- A smart brain
- A kind disposition
- A compassionate heart
"Yes, God loves me!," I happily mused.
Though I did not say that out loud to the other children in attendance, I was sure they could see the conceited pleasure that was displayed on my face.
Then, bang!, my pride received a big blow.
Out of nowhere, there came this depressing rupture -- a molten volcano stirring my breast with shame and guilt. Perhaps it was the recent interest in romance novels or something altogether different that brought it to light. Whatever it was, I sensed a new sensitivity being unearthed from the deepest recesses of my soul. I became aware of something that was hidden to me up to that point. For the first time, the full weight of how different I felt in comparison to others around me fell heavily on my shoulders. I realized that, though I felt much more comfortable with the girls around me, the boys were the ones I idolized.
I wanted to be like them.
I wanted to be liked by them.
I wanted to be affirmed by them.
It took but a second for me to realize that this innocent wish had a sexual twist to it. I found that I had to admit to myself that there was this deep-seated, though unwanted, same-sex attraction inside of me. As self-loathing quickly invaded my heart, a new revelation hit me:
Could this be the reason I was so mercilessly teased all these years?
Did others know something about me that I didn't even know myself?
Though I did not say that out loud to the other children in attendance, I was sure they could see the conceited pleasure that was displayed on my face.
Then, bang!, my pride received a big blow.
Out of nowhere, there came this depressing rupture -- a molten volcano stirring my breast with shame and guilt. Perhaps it was the recent interest in romance novels or something altogether different that brought it to light. Whatever it was, I sensed a new sensitivity being unearthed from the deepest recesses of my soul. I became aware of something that was hidden to me up to that point. For the first time, the full weight of how different I felt in comparison to others around me fell heavily on my shoulders. I realized that, though I felt much more comfortable with the girls around me, the boys were the ones I idolized.
I wanted to be like them.
I wanted to be liked by them.
I wanted to be affirmed by them.
It took but a second for me to realize that this innocent wish had a sexual twist to it. I found that I had to admit to myself that there was this deep-seated, though unwanted, same-sex attraction inside of me. As self-loathing quickly invaded my heart, a new revelation hit me:
Could this be the reason I was so mercilessly teased all these years?
Did others know something about me that I didn't even know myself?
Some of the derogatory names and derisive epithets that had been thrown at me since my first day of school came rushing to my head.
"Little sister."
"Biological mishap."
"Sissy."
"Loulouse."
I started weeping in the middle of the Sunday school lesson and quickly left the room. A few of the children who were closest to me ran after me and, no matter how hard they tried, I simply could not tell them what was going on inside of me. When I was finally left alone, I chose to forgo going to the service and went on a stroll, all the while wiping away tears and pondering heavy questions.
How could I ever tell anyone?
How could God let that happen to me?
How could I ever entertain such thoughts?
Was there truly a mistake when I was conceived?
Through the flurry of questions, salty tears, and troubled thoughts, God's Word came to counsel me,
I knew those words were spoken to the prophet Jeremiah but a line from a little Creole chorus I learned in Sunday school came to me at that moment -- "Chak pwomes nan labib se pou mwen" which means, "Every promise in the Bible is for me."
Whoa!
God knew all of me before I was ever conceived?
He set me apart before I was born?
So, He knew that these unwanted feelings would someday prick my heart like deadly thorns in my flesh. I was not sure that I felt comforted by that knowledge. On the other hand, His Word clearly maintains that I was not to nurse nor encourage nor act upon said feelings. Yet, God did not take them away.
"Why, Lord, did You not exclude this same-sex attraction from my makeup?," I silently pleaded. "Could it have been an oversight?"
In answer, King David's words entered my consciousness:
"Little sister."
"Biological mishap."
"Sissy."
"Loulouse."
I started weeping in the middle of the Sunday school lesson and quickly left the room. A few of the children who were closest to me ran after me and, no matter how hard they tried, I simply could not tell them what was going on inside of me. When I was finally left alone, I chose to forgo going to the service and went on a stroll, all the while wiping away tears and pondering heavy questions.
How could I ever tell anyone?
How could God let that happen to me?
How could I ever entertain such thoughts?
Was there truly a mistake when I was conceived?
Through the flurry of questions, salty tears, and troubled thoughts, God's Word came to counsel me,
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I set you apart."
Jeremiah 1:5, NIV
I knew those words were spoken to the prophet Jeremiah but a line from a little Creole chorus I learned in Sunday school came to me at that moment -- "Chak pwomes nan labib se pou mwen" which means, "Every promise in the Bible is for me."
Whoa!
God knew all of me before I was ever conceived?
He set me apart before I was born?
So, He knew that these unwanted feelings would someday prick my heart like deadly thorns in my flesh. I was not sure that I felt comforted by that knowledge. On the other hand, His Word clearly maintains that I was not to nurse nor encourage nor act upon said feelings. Yet, God did not take them away.
"Why, Lord, did You not exclude this same-sex attraction from my makeup?," I silently pleaded. "Could it have been an oversight?"
In answer, King David's words entered my consciousness:
"My frame was not hidden from You
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
Your eyes saw my unformed body."
Psalm 139:15-16, NIV
There was no other way to look at it; God foreknew and ordained every aspect of my being for His glory. The grace of becoming His follower should be sufficient for me to accept what He requires of me. Whether the task was easy or difficult, it was not for me to question because only His grace and love could allow me to obey Him. In fact, I slowly began to see that this thorn was placed within me to prevent any inkling of conceited pride or self-righteousness to take root in my heart. God graciously allowed it to torment me so that God's power might be revealed in my weakness.
It has allowed me to see that I could never earn God's special attention nor could I ever deserve His love. Still, Christ's love is relentless. He was, is right now, and will always be a faithful, righteous, just, compassionate, and gracious Lover to His followers.
On that long ago day, the Lord of perfect love won my feeble heart. By His grace, I made a promise to obey Him and to acknowledge Him as my Lord, my King, and my God.
And, I humbly said, "Thank You, Lord, for my thorn! But, will there ever be a rose?"
I simply felt His assurance strengthening my faith, "Walk with me, my son. Walk with me. That's all you need to know. My grace is sufficient for you."
It has allowed me to see that I could never earn God's special attention nor could I ever deserve His love. Still, Christ's love is relentless. He was, is right now, and will always be a faithful, righteous, just, compassionate, and gracious Lover to His followers.
On that long ago day, the Lord of perfect love won my feeble heart. By His grace, I made a promise to obey Him and to acknowledge Him as my Lord, my King, and my God.
And, I humbly said, "Thank You, Lord, for my thorn! But, will there ever be a rose?"
I simply felt His assurance strengthening my faith, "Walk with me, my son. Walk with me. That's all you need to know. My grace is sufficient for you."
Father, You are the Sun of righteousness in my darkness and a glorious Shield in my weakness. Your honor, love, and favor are bestowed on me not because I am worthy, but because You choose to love me so completely. Help me to humble myself before You. Guide me to resolve not to defile myself with worldly choices and fleshly enticements. As I journey with You and follow You closely, draw me to feast on Your love, Your Word, and Your truth. Amen!
The honesty present in this story has truly stirred my heart to surrender my mask to Christ. May Christ be honored!
ReplyDeleteI give glory to Christ through whom I found the courage to unmask my rebellion. I am so glad to hear that my testimony has stirred your heart to be equally honest with God. Yes, indeed, may Christ be honored!
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