Showing posts with label Grieving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grieving. Show all posts

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Fast Forward: Farewell Brother A













I had never anticipated that it would come so quickly.

I had thought six months? A year?

Certainly not now. Not after having fallen head-over-heels in love with him only three months ago.

But it is here: I don't need him anymore.

The last 7 days of grieving did something tremendous within me. Like a raging fever, the grieving burned away all the relational-sick of my past. Someone reached into my stuck six-year-old inner self and pressed the "play" button...

...without a warning, everything fast-forwarded.

Three entire decades of emotional life zoomed pass me in one quick instant: zzzz..................... pp! And I suddenly arrived.

New, different, and fully my age.

I looked into the mirror. A very mature man stared back at me. I have never seen such confidence. Such knowing. So sure of himself. So forty something.

Just like that, I am a man.

And Brother A? He seems smaller now. More my size. Like all the other men that I used to adore and fantasize about, his allure has dissipated. The good-looking men are still good-looking. But now, they are more like shiny plastic food displays: nothing of value beneath the skin.

I have internalized Brother A. His smile is my smile. His chest is my chest. His penis is my penis. And most of all, his secure-male-self is my secure-male-self. And no one can take that away from me.

I bid farewell to Brother A because I don't "need" him anymore.

Things will be different for us now. Different, healthier, better.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

A Short Update

I was supposed to write my second summary reflections. But each time I try, I end up spending time replying to emails or Facebook messages instead. It's good that I am finally getting to know more people in the world of SSA strugglers. On the other hand, my work has been taking a back seat, and that's starting to leave me a little edgy.

I've been grieving for over a week now. I'm happy to say that this morning, I woke up feeling slightly better. Yet something has happened to me that is really, really hard for me to admit. I've been avoiding writing about it because I was hoping the feeling would go away.

But it hasn't.

I don't know if I have the courage to write about it.

"I..."

(Okeeeee, obviously not today.)

We'll be back. Promise.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Grief Continued

That same grief is still here. And it hasn't lessened.

Sometimes, it looks up to God; sometimes it longs for a long hug from safe, loving brothers.

It aches the death of something within. Like facing an old, old wound. Rotting flesh, long forgotten.

But I can't turn around or walk away. The truth stares at me with open eyes, sad and compassionate. And I have to stay here, looking right back at it, even if I don't do anything.

When my father died, all that I thought was important faded away. Only the most crucial things remained: people and grace. Make amends. Make peace. Life is short.

That is how I feel now. Nothing is that important. Not even homo vs. hetero sexuality. It is not that important. Love. That's what matters. Just love.

Love and God will move hearts. His hand will reach into places so deep -- desolate, forgotten places. And if we let Him, He will begin to move His hand in that deep place. Ever so slowly and gently. Yet when He does, the churning will be great. And we will never be the same again.

God's hand has moved. The skeletons deep within have been stirred. And the smell of death has resurfaced.

Oh, how it aches.

But I know this: only in death can new life emerge.



All the way my Savior leads me
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His faithful mercies?
Who through life has been my guide
Heavenly peace, divinest comfort
Ere by faith in Him to dwell
For I know whate'er fall me
Jesus doeth all things well

All of the way my Savior leads me
And He cheers each winding path I tread
Gives me strength for every trial
And He feeds me with the living bread
And though my weary steps may falter
And my soul a-thirst may be
Gushing from a rock before me
Though a spirit joy I see

And all the way my Savior leads me
Oh, the fullness of His love
Perfect rest in me is promised
In my Father's house above
When my spirit clothed immortal
Wings it's flight through the realms of the day
This my song through endless ages
Jesus led me all the way

- Rich Mullins


[Note: I noticed a sense of grieving on Wednesday, four days ago. It started the day after I made the decision to fully embrace my change.]

Friday, May 22, 2009

Grief Reflected

I did not expect this change to happen.

I did not expect the emergence of anger to come about.

And I never expected this grief to hit me, so hard.

Yesterday, Brother A asked me to pray. I could not utter the words. Before long, I was a blabbering, sobbing mess. Deep pain.

Today, Bill Bright, founder of Campus Crusade for Christ, prayed a prayer on the radio for his staff members during his final dying days. I started to sob again, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face, my heart wrenching.

I don't understand this grief. So the rest of this post will not make sense. I only want to put down some disconnected thoughts. Perhaps it will come together, later.

When my father died, I went into slow motion. I spoke slowly, smiled slowly, moved slowly. I was numb. Something deep within me also died. But in its place a new freedom birthed: all that we think is important is not so important after all. And for a little while, I appreciated the grass, the trees, the little everyday conversations of everyday people.

Something within me has died. All those years of pain. The travail. How my father travailed and fought to keep his empire going while he battled his illness. And suddenly, it's all over.

Let the empire crumble now. And let the grasses and flowers and trees and little wild creatures grow all around it. Let the name of the empire be forgotten.

It's over. The battle is over.

And I weep.

Years of pain come together, congregating in my chest, and gushing out in heaves through my sobs.

I have nothing left to battle.

And something new has birthed.

When I sob, the pain echoes out of a place of intense thankfulness. How I have travailed over all these years. How I have fought to stay true to my decision not to give in to a homosexual lifestyle. How hard it had been to put on a grown man's face everyday over these years. How tired I am. How good God has been to me all of that time.

Second Timothy Chapter Four Verse Seven.

And now, my crowning glory.

Yet, I am barely able to stand and wear it.

: more sobs :


Brokenness.


How are you doing, boy-soul?
How are YOU doing, champ?
I am tired. So tired.
We know.
We? Who is we?
Me, boy-soul, and all of your other little childhood selves. We, know. And we are all here.
Oh.
We are all here for YOU, champ!

Boy-soul, and all my little childhood selves. They look so tall, so grown up, so masculine, so together. And they are here for me? I don't have to keep up with external appearances to protect them anymore? My inner child(ren) have grown up?


The battle is over. And I sob.

Why did I sob over Bill Bright's prayer?

Because he prayed as a father. Because he prayed over his "sons" in ministry. Because his "sons" were ready to take over the mantle of his ministry. Because he prayed that they will be men of God. MEN of God. And because God wanted you to hear that prayer, and so you did, and you received it, into your heart, oh MAN of God.

"Father, Father, Holy Father. We bow in reverence before Your majesty. We are in awe of Your greatness. When we think of who You are, we realize how little we are, how small in comparison. And yet even when we were yet in our sins, You died for us. You love us. You delight in us. And I thank You that in Your sovereignty, You chose Dennis and Bob to do what they are doing. And You've anointed them and given them favor, and great blessing. And I ask Holy Father, You'll keep them pure. Keep their motives pure, their hearts pure. Their attitudes, their desires, their actions above reproach. That they, Bob and Dennis, will be MEN OF GOD after Your heart. There will be no sin in their lives that will hinder Your working in and through them. That as they speak day after day, to millions of people--and that number, oh gracious God, I pray will increase by the millions--they will be channels of Your love, Your forgiveness, Your grace to the multitudes of earth. I pray for the day their ministry will literally encircle the globe. Where millions upon millions will be drawn closer to You, will love You, and trust You, and obey You because of their influence. Lord Jesus, bless their families... their families and the children's children's children yet unborn. That they may always love You, serve You, trust You, obey You. And that the legacy of these men will go on and on until You return. Blessed Holy Father, thank You once again for these men whom You've chosen, whom You've anointed, whom You've empowered. And may all glory, honor, worship and praise go to You. For we pray it in the name of the One whose name is above every name, the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen."

[Actual interview and prayer can be downloaded here.]

I feel the Lord saying to me: Well done, good, faithful, and broken servant. You are now ready to serve Me.

Anything You want, Lord. I am and have always been Yours. Now more than ever before. Anything You want.

Grief

A deep, deep grief has hit me.

As I nuzzle more securely into Brother A's love for me, an old, lost pain is finally emerging. I don't even have a specific memory associated with the pain. It is just an old, old pain from deep within.

And so I cry sobs of anguish. My heart wrenching with each gasp.

No words.

No memories.

Just deep pain and sadness.

I don't deserve such love.