Glaciers - Moving

I didn't realize how long it had been since my last post. Sorry about that.

Glaciers move slowly but inexorably. As they creep along, as the ice melts, crevasses form: those cracks that may be hidden from view but then slowly develop into chasms. And they are cold.

That's is what it feels like at home. Though my wife and I get along quite well, always have, I feel a slowly growing, cold rift beginning. I suppose it's only natural, all things considered. This summer is the time when we will separate. When both children are home from school and will have one another for some support, we will tell them. They will want to know why we hadn't let them in on it sooner, but there is no need to burden them with it now. One in college, one in high school, they don't need any more distractions than they already have.

Will we tell them everything? Exactly why Daddy is leaving? I think so, but that will be difficult, because they have to keep it quiet. The coming out can't happen out loud. It must be kept in check so as not to endanger my job.

Mixed feelings: excitement, dread, coming relief, approaching disaster, new community, utter isolation. Such is life.

Working with a 12 step group has been life-giving. The concept of "one day at a time" is coming into focus and into practice. Surrendering not just the addiction stuff, but many other areas of life is helping. I have always wanted God to "take it away." Now I think I understand that it is less about God taking something away as it is my handing it over. Subtle difference but with big effect.

But I am not just recovering, I am coming out, also. Two things that can seem conflictual. Part of me says "quite acting out" while the other keeps asking, "but what does it mean to be gay." Much to learn.

I've been reading Gifted by Otherness by Wm. Countryman and M.R. Ritley. Written by two Christian theologians (and Episcopalians), it is not a difficult read. It helps me find some framework, something to hang all this on, something to help me see I am not alone.

I must get back to work. Thanks to all who read, comment, and offer themselves through this blogosphere.

Shalom & Cheers, Joe.