I know we are moving toward the season of Lent, and it may seem premature to talk of Easter. But there is no Easter without Good Friday. There is no resurrection without the crucifixion. No new life without death. Right now, I feel like I am in the midst of death.
This Saturday afternoon, I told my wife. I am gay.
Of course this topic is one that has been part of our marriage for most all of its twenty years. But we always thought it was something else. I could get over it. I could make some choices and things could stay at status quo.
Now, she knows otherwise, and the news is devastating for both of us. I have had months to think about this. She has not. I am not sure what the next step will be, but it is one we will make together. Pray for us.
Every time I see a couple walking together, holding hands, laughing, playing with their children, I think, "Oh God, why couldn't I be normal. Why can't I be straight and regular. Why can't I fit in and make it work out." What would I give for that? Of course I know there is nothing I can give. There is nothing to be done. I am who I am, what I am, the way I am. This is devastating.
Even in the midst of my mixed up mind, I have had thoughts of our growing old together. What will we do in retirement, when the kids are grown, with grandchildren. Now, a lot of dreams are altered forever. There is much to mourn.
Once the cat is out of the bag (or rather, the bear is out of the closet), I cannot go back. For a fleeting few moments, I wanted to. That comes from that part of me that is driven to make everyone happy, to keep the peace, to please. I can do it no more. Despite my desires to be straight and normal (whatever the hell that means), I am feeling at least a bit content with who I am. I know that there will be a lot of anguish to come. But I know it will be better in the long run.
In the midst of this crucifying pain, I can only hope and pray for an Easter that will reveal new life to me, and to my wife, and eventually my children, as well. I do not understand why God is calling me on this journey, but I trust that he is with me. I ask your prayers.
We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything. 2 Corinthians 6.8b-10