Submission

I'm at a point where I'm willing to sacrifice everything, at least for today. By that I mean, I am willing to sacrifice all my desires, all my wants, all my perceived needs, all my dreams, my identity even if it means that for a moment I can taste the peace that passeth all understanding. Yet that is strangely not comforting. Perhaps that's a "no duh!" response - it is. But that does not diminish its reality, at least for me...

This realization is incredibly depressing, but the choice I have is either be tormented by the knowledge I have of God by walking away, or be tormented by the very desires and wants (that'll never be fulfilled) by staying in the church. So I figure why not sacrifice these desires. I can live today with the misery that attends not having these things fulfilled. I can live today being single. I can live today without having to have a family. I can survive today giving up my will. Perhaps in so doing God (in His infinite mercy) will give back what he chooses. I am really at His mercy. Knowing that sucks. Where's the joy that attends sacrifice?

About two weeks ago, I met with my Bishop and he quoted to me Matthew 19 about eunuchs in connection with me being gay. I have no clue where he was going with it. It made no sense. It still makes no sense. What that interaction indicated to me was that my Bishop is even more clueless than me. That's comforting.

But something interesting happened that night, we talked for several hours and he asked if I wanted a blessing. I replied, "Yeah...sure, if you think it'll help." He then asked if I wanted him to do the blessing. I told him I didn't care. He then asked if the second counselor could give the blessing. He told me that he was too close to the issue and me that he felt he could not effectively communicate the will of God. I respected that and my admiration for him deepened. With that the second counselor came in (he did not have any background on me or the issue). The Bishop invited him in and told him nothing. He put his hands on my head and I thought it was going to be one of those generic blessings: God loves you, read your scriptures, bless you with strength, etc...It started off that way. But midway, the blessing became very specific to my concerns. A concern I thought I had resolved years ago. In that blessing, I heard "some affliction and trials are caused by people, while some afflictions like yours are caused by nature..." I have reflected on that now for several weeks. If I heard and understood right, the Lord told me "I indeed was born that way..." but that does not give me the license to act on what I feel is natural. It is comforting to know that God has confirmed my own suspicions, but at the same time discomforting to know that I must come to sacrifice these natural desires and yearnings to draw close to Him. Why? I don't know. I don't think I'll ever know. Right now what is needed on my part is complete mortal submission.

This submission is daunting. It means that I effectively choose daily to forgo the desires and thoughts of being in committed relationship with either a man or woman. It means I commit to remaining a second class citizen in the church (being single). It means I commit to life of being alone. It means I commit to a life without my dreams. But I can do this today. Tomorrow will be tomorrow. Thinking about tomorrow is too daunting, and the weight of the task bears down on me and makes me think I can't do it. Honestly, I don't know I can. But I know I can at least get through today.

The fact that others tell me that I will be fulfilled by Christ and by service is not comforting. But I choose to believe that may be the case, but the comfort does not necessarily follow the belief (at least it hasn't in the last week I've committed). Perhaps my Mt Moriah is to see if I can faithful while knowing I have to deny everything about who I feel I naturally am. Right now, I am a nobody. It doesn't feel good, but it keeps me from fawning over a life that could've been, it keeps me from turning to unhealthy behaviors, it keeps me safe. Sometimes being safe is boring and miserable, but it's safe and the sun will rise in the morning.

Church is not fulfilling. But I go because I believe it will help. Writing this post makes me incredibly sad to know that I am sacrificing. But I can get through the day, it will be alright. I can be sad today. I can. Perhaps tomorrow I will decide something else, but today, I can be faithful (even if being faithful today means I feel sad).

Resources of Courage

The past few days have been contemplative and moody, to say the least. I have not made an decision on the path of righteousness; I continue to stand at the crossroads. I look down each path. I try to imagine what's at the end of each path: how vexatious each might be; how tormenting each might be; which is the path of least resistance (for mortality and for eternity). I realized that doing so, the questions I ask presumes pain and torment are a given in each path. Perhaps it is, but the reality is I don't know.

Last night I talked with another dear friend of mine. He was my Bishop after I returned from my mission (eleven years ago). I told him about how I was struggling with the greatest question of my life to this point: do I leave the church and find a loving committed relationship with a man?

He was very concerned and empathetic. He listened and then proceeded to tell me that the church is growing; it's dynamic. The position the church, in relation to homosexuality, has changed and will continue to change. He told me the reality was if I were to stay in the church, then that part of me that yearns for a deep and intimate connection will never be fulfilled, rather I will be tormented throughout mortality. If I were to leave the church, then I could experience the happiness that comes from being in a committed and loving relationship, but that my relationship with the church would take on an eternal character. That is, neither God nor intelligent people would condemn me for leaving. That in the eternities, all will be sorted out in relation to homosexuality. In other words, he advocated that I quietly go inactive, if I felt I could not muster the necessary courage to move forward with the inevitable torment connected with being gay in the church.

I listened. This certainly gives me hope, in an odd way. Or rather, let me re-phrase, it provides me an option to believe that I will not be wholly condemned if I decide to leave the church. This line of reasoning is so very tempting, alluring, and persuasive. Yet, my immediate gut reaction was: "What about my covenants? Did I not covenant to obey God's laws as he gives them to His servants? Did I not covenant to sacrifice all things, even my own life, to follow God? Did I not covenant to live the law of the gospel and apply the atonement? Did I not covenant to be chaste in every way, and implicitly covenant and agree that any relationship outside of a man and woman is not of God? Did I not covenant to consecrate everything I have and am to God?" These covenants necessarily bind me to God in so many ways. These covenants bind me to heaven and eternity. The covenants have shaped who I am today, they structure my interactions with people inside and outside of the church, it structures my relationship to God. It is the foundation of my character.

Had I not made these covenants perhaps the option presented to me might be more compelling. Yet, these covenants are my reality. No matter what line of reasoning is presented to me, I would have to stumble and crawl over these covenants on my way out of the church; slipping into inactivity would not be so silent as these covenants are so loud and present. If I were to leave I will have to pretend they are insignificant. If I were to leave or quietly go inactive, then any semblance of integrity I think I have will be gone. I will make a willful mockery of all God's laws. Because of this I will be tormented in one path, as I know what I must to do to "quietly" leave. I'm not sure I have the courage to live with that torment.

The other path however, is the path of righteousness. As I trudge this path, I will be turning my back on the deep and yearning need to be connected in intimate and profound ways with a man. I will never know what that feels like. I will have to sacrifice that part of me on the alter of God. Yet, I fear, I will not be able to make that sacrifice. I fear, I will be forever tormented with weekly reminders of the things I may never have (a loving relationship that I so desire). I fear I will be condemned to a life of loneliness in the church; granted I acknowledge I may find love, but that love may not be the type of love that I so desire and need. It may be filling, but not fulfilling. Courage and faithfulness to know and accept the unknown...

I talked with a good friend last night and she indicated to me that I have faith; I qualified her observation by noting that while I have faith, it is not sufficient to be faithful to God. As I though on that my mind was drawn to the Doctrine and Covenants.

I'm beginning to appreciate more deeply Joseph Smith's trial with the lost manuscript. In D&C 3, the Prophet petitioned the Lord twice to allow Martin Harris to take the translation of the first part of the Golden Plates. The Lord refused the Prophet's request; however the Prophet approached the Lord a third time and asked. The Lord then allowed the Prophet to let Martin take the manuscript. Martin lost the manuscript, and Joseph exclaimed, "'Martin, have you lost that manuscript? Have you broken your oath, and brought down condemnation upon my head as well as your own?'

"'Yes; it is gone,' replied Martin, 'and I know not where.'

"'Oh, my God!' said Joseph, clenching his hands. 'All is lost! all is lost! What shall I do? I have sinned—it is I who tempted the wrath of God. I should have been satisfied with the first answer which I received from the Lord; for he told me that it was not safe to let the writing go out of my possession.' He wept and groaned, and walked the floor continually.

Once the Prophet returned to the Lord, he was severely chastised:

"Yet you should have been faithful; and he would have extended his arm and supported you against all the fiery darts of the adversary; and he would have been with you in every time of trouble."

Verse 8 caught my attention. It is illustrative and comforting, that despite the Prophet having a theophany he still struggled with faithfulness. He was mortal and weak, as I am. But he struggled with being faithful! He struggled with being faithful! Faithful!

Jonah the ancient Prophet, likewise struggled with faithfulness. He fled from the presence of the Lord.

Thus, as I look down both paths, namely the path of righteousness (i.e. right with God), I know I struggle with being faithful, not with having faith. In other words, I struggle with the courage to act on my faith.

While this certainly does not alleviate the burden of my decision, it does provide something satisfactory and comforting to my soul and mind.

This has provided, at least, a framework to help me see myself in relation to God and to the decision that weighs upon me. I can move forward knowing that I am mortal and that all good people no matter their station or calling struggle with faithfulness.

This is comforting.

Not knowing

The past two weeks have been somewhat of a roller coaster ride. I've gone to the apex and to the nadir in my emotional state, confidence, self-esteem, and knowledge of "truth."

At the moment, I am simply coasting along - a plateau, if you will. I've come to realize that I really don't know what it is I want. People will inevitably tell me: "You're a child of God," "You know what's right, You want heaven," "God loves you," "Just have faith and God will lead you."

The first set of comments presumes they know what I want. It presumes a foundation of faith that I don't think I necessarily have or is woefully weak. I'm not sure what it means to be a child of God. Certainly, I can rattle off the numerous expositions by prophets and apostles both ancient and contemporary. I can explain the theological and ontological significance of it all, I can even cause the hairs on the back of one's neck to stand straight up as I do. All this intellectual knowledge DOES NOT mean I have that experiential knowledge. If I do, it's very weak. I acknowledge this.

Yesterday, the opening hymn in priesthood was "I am a child of God." The third verse of that hymn reads "If I but learn to do his will / I'll live with him someday..."I realized again, that the understanding of truth and application of truth are two different things. And that for progress they must work in tandem. It's not a matter of me not understanding the truth, rather at this moment it's a matter of applying the truth - or in other words "learning to do his will."

I fear I do not have the courage or faith to do his will. I fear I do not have the faith to apply the truth connected to being a child of God. Last night as I talked with a dear friend of mine about my struggle, he noted that I had already made up my mind. He said, "I can hear in your voice. You've already decided to leave." I resisted this, because I could not accept it. He went on and said very boldly, very clearly and with much authority (as he has known me for many many years) "If you walk away, you will never come back. You know this and I know this. If you walk away, no matter what you say or think, you'll never come back." I tried to fight this line of reasoning, but it was to no avail. I accepted it. It is true.

He explained that I knew what the truth was and is. And I do. I understand it, but because of my weakness I do not want to apply the truth. In part, because I know what applying the truth means. It means that I turn completely away from the thoughts of a life with a man. It means that I will never have a part of me fulfilled, that I think needs fulfillment. It means, I sacrifice these things and the desires of my life in a loving relationship (with a man) to God. It means, I sacrifice myself and who I think I am at this moment to God. It means taking that step in the dark. It means becoming someone else. It means changing. This is the reality that surrounds me.

I am at a cross-roads. I know what is right, now I hope I have the courage to take the path of righteousness. That is the path that is right with God.

The Brilliance of the Natural Man

I hear others tell me "all you need to do is read your scriptures...all you need to do it prayer...just do God's will and you'll be happy." To them, I graciously say, "thank you!" However, upon further reflection the "all you need to do..." lines do nothing for me. I read my scriptures, daily! I pray, daily - even when I don't want to. Last night, I knelt to prayer. Weighed down by falling yet again with another guy on Sunday, I tried praying, but nothing came for five or so minutes, I ended saying, "Father, I'm not ready to talk." I then crawled into bed and went to sleep. I woke up this morning, knelt again and said, "Father, I'm trying," with that I ended my morning prayer. I sat down for breakfast, read a chapter out of the Book of Alma. This has been my life. I find it hard to connect to God. Yes, I read. Yes, I pray. But at times this is not enough.

The problem is not that I don't know I am a child of God; not that I don't know that God loves me; not that I don't know I can trust God. I know these things, I have evidence of them. Yet,the problem is at the moment, I feel estranged from this. I can't seem to find the comfort in these things. I have hope that I will, else why do I continue to pray, even when I don't want to say anything?

The natural man inside of me is so very strong. Certainly the natural man has his ear bent toward Satan. The natural man knows me oh so well. As a result, it's incredibly difficult to give my will over. That is simply one problematic, the other is that I don't know how. I am sensing, after my acting out with another guy, that I have very little control of myself. I can not do it alone. But my will is hard to bend. The logic and reasoning of the natural man is so very persuasive. I struggle to put off the natural man; consequently, I struggle to submit to the will of God.

I think, in part, it's because I don't know what God's will is. It is easy for me to assume I know what his will is, but the reality is I don't know. There are things people tell me I should do, but they aren't God. I have a very generalized trust in God, yet, I struggle experiencing the belief that He has my interests in mind. I can say it, I can believe it, but my actions and the patterns of my thoughts suggest otherwise.

Certainty and Uncertainty

I am not sure of things anymore. I recently realized that I do not know who God is. I do not know who I am. All I know is that there is a part of me that wants sex; a part of me that wants a longing connection to a man. Perhaps not in that order, perhaps both at the same time. I am not certain.

Attending meetings for my addictions has been helpful. Things I thought I was certain of, I am not longer certain of. I thought I knew who God was, but the more I reflect on it, the less I know who He really is. This stems, in part, from my own distorted relationship with Him. I first started my sexual deviance when I was about 11 or 12; that never really relented. Now twenty years later, I struggle to gain or admit that I have no control, and surrender myself to God. Yet, that twenty year struggle messed up my own perception of myself, my perception of who God is, and of my relationships with others. I slowly unplugged myself from reality, finding repose in my own reality. A reality that I constructed, ever so carefully, to maintain the illusion of control, the illusion of certainty, the illusion of confidence, the illusion of me.

As I sit the meetings, talking with, frankly more experienced people, I am coming to realize that I have no strength, that I have no confidence. I am nothing. Yet, that is the point, right? That is what I am to realize. I am not the person I thought I was. I am not the confident person I project myself to others, nor am I the person lacking in self-confidence, with low self-esteem. Rather, I am nothing. This is reality that is hard to accept. With nothing, comes increasing uncertainty, of who I am, of what I am, of where I am going, of what I am supposed to be and believe in.

God is somewhere. I believe that, or at least tell myself that. Being gay is a small part of who I am, but being nothing is more. Being nothing means I give up control, recognize that I am indeed powerless over myself. It is realizing that I am powerless over the natural man. Being nothing, means I realize that I, of my own power and will can do nothing to overcome the natural man.

While, this makes intellectual sense, I am afraid to admit it. I am afraid of being nothing. I am afraid of taking the step in the darkness. I am afraid of uncertainty. Yet, that is precisely what I need to progress. I need to be completely uncertain of myself. I need to let go of all the efforts I make to control my environment, to control me.

Sure, I want a partner. But at the moment, I am not sure why. Is it for God's will or my own? But the point is I don't know God nor his will. Will I ever? As I step into the unknown, the uncertain; I come to know. I come to feel His will. I believe that's how it works. But I am afraid.

I'm afraid of uncertainty!

Falling..

So the past few weeks have been busy, to say the least. I had a very stressful end of the Fall quarter. Grading papers, writing proposals, getting ready for Christmas, and generally trying to be Santa Claus to all I knew. It's stressful. During that time, the nagging question of leaving the church had settled deep within my mind - it continued to gnaw at my hopes, my aspirations, and eventually it took me to paths I never intended.

The question gnawed at my soul. I almost slipped four days before Christmas. However with thanks from a friend, I was talked down from the cliff. But the question remained. But let me connect the question to my state of mind. The question was fueled by my physical needs and desire to be with a man. This deep and seemingly innate desire led me to question whether I should remain in the church. Yet, the power of that desire to be with a man - to be fulfilled physically. In that physicality, was a curiosity I nurtured by my questions: what does it feel like to touch a man? what does it feel like to kiss a man? what does it feel like to cuddle with a man? These are some of the questions of the desires of my body and mind. These questions were nagging and strong; I wanted so much to know the answers to these questions. In short, I wanted to be with a man. This desire naturally led me what would prevent me from finding answers to those questions: the doctrine of the church. Well, to be fair, it wasn't the doctrine that prevented, rather it was my own socialization into the norms of the church. It was, in short, the fear that my reputation would be tarnished. In other words, I knew if I found the answers to those questions, I would be disfellowshipped and thereby people I knew would think less of me. However, I missed the fact that I should have been more concerned with the actual doctrine and the breaking of covenants. But to overcome this feeling, I reasoned leaving the church to be a viable option; an option that would enable to be with a man. The thought of being in the church for my whole life and not knowing the feeling of a man's touch was unbearable, it was unthinkable, it was lonely and incredibly depressing.

While in this state, I begin to yearn after a man's touch. I yearned to be with a man, the thought of what others would think of me did not seem to have the same power over me. That was when I felt I could then act on these desires; the thoughts of covenants and doctrine did not have the same efficacy as it did before. Four days before Christmas, I was about to look for someone to fulfill these base physical needs. Yet, at that moment, I called a friend. He talked me off the cliff.

I left for home and spent an incredible spiritually uplifting time at home; my father is a bishop. He does not know of my struggles, but I witnessed his ability to reason with the Spirit. It showed as we spent time together. I love him and my mother dearly. They are my heroes and my life. I resolved when I was leaving my parents home after the Holiday to put all these things behind me. I felt that I wanted to doctrine of love, the doctrine of heaven. I felt resolved to fully overcome the natural man; which meant putting the yearnings behind me. I stayed at a friend's home near the airport and there, my relayed to me the story of how they might be excommunicated because of what they did (relations with their same sex). I did not realize my friend had struggled with this. I was not able to give advice. But what my friend did stayed with me, my friend was not phased, was not afraid of the consequences. This gave me pause to think about the yearning questions, and a part of me said, "it's not that bad."

The yearning returned. I desired to feel a man's touch, to be with a man physically. I got home to the Northwest and that evening I invited a guy over to simply give him a massage. I massaged him, and it took everything in me to keep from touching him down there. I then kissed him - I kissed a guy for the first time. I felt right. He held me as I kissed him. He then left. That kiss kept going through my mind, I was coming to realize that I did not want sex, but rather an emotional connection; that kiss was indicative of the internal yearning to be connected at a deep and intimate level with a guy. He responded to my touch - he needed me and found my touch fulfilling. As we kissed he responded. I felt needed.

The next day, I invited another guy over the same experience. I wanted to feel that again. He came, got undressed and I massaged him and kissed him passionately, he held me tight and hugged me. The passion was there. After he left, I begin to realize that I did not want sex, I did not necessarily want to see someone naked. Rather what was imprinted on my mind and soul was being needed at the deep and intimate level. I wanted someone to hold me and kiss me. I then got onto Craigslist and found someone who wanted to snuggle and cuddle. I responded to ad and then found myself in front of his apartment building.

He came down and let me in. I walked into his room; while being fully clothed, we climbed into his bed, and he climbed into my arms. I held him, he held me. We cuddled all night, there was not sex, there was no kissing. He held me tight. I left the next morning. I had come to realize what i wanted most was to be held, to be needed deeply. I came away that morning, the fire of the questions gone, the lust after the next visit gone, the desire to be sexually gratified dissipated. What I wanted most after that experience, was to be able to sleep next to someone and know that i was needed. That guy pulled my arms around him and held them tight. He laid his head on my chest and squeezed em tightly against him and slept. This fulfilled me; it took the questions away.

I realized then, that I want to be needed at a deeply emotional and intimate level. While my family and friends may fill part of that, the intimacy that comes from people who are attracted to each other is missing. I realized then, that my pornography addictions, my acting out, and the questions, were symptomatic of this unfulfilled need.

I told my Bishop the whole ordeal. I am fairly certain now that I will have a disciplinary council. The fear I had before of what others would think of me is gone; the fear I had of my family knowing I was in a state of limbo (with my membership) is no longer there. I now know what I want, I want to be loved deeply by someone for eternity. While I may certainly have continued problems of these attractions; at least I now know what I want.

Losing Sight

"We cannot and we must not allow ourselves to get distracted from our sacred duty. We cannot and we must not lose focus on the things that matter most." President Uchtdorf.

The past month or so has been filled with doubt. I think for the first time in my life I am not ignoring the fact that I am sexually attracted to my own sex. The implications of that attraction are profound, whether I act or not act on them. Unfortunately, I have acted on these attractions to a small degree, enough at least to put me in limbo. My Stake President still has not decided on whether a Disciplinary Council should be convened. The fact that it has been over three months since I met with the Stake President is certainly a source of stress in my life.

I continue to struggle with the simple and small things: reading my scriptures and praying. It is tempting to say I am doing these things, as a way to rationalize my thoughts of leaving the church. Yet, as Elder Holland pointed out the Book of Mormon and what it means is a stumbling block for leaving the church. I find this to be very true.

But let me give some structure and context. The last couple of months I have been doubting every week or so, well more like trying to rationalize why I am still in the church. The most obvious answer is the compelling experience I had that can not be ignored. However, that does not provide sufficient faith to overcome the thoughts of leaving, nor has it become a motivating factor for reading the scriptures or even praying. Rather, the strength of that experience has compelled me to stay in the church but not to make the sufficient and needed adjustments to my life to reflect that of a disciple's life.

I met with my bishop yesterday and indicated that I had thoughts of leaving the church. He responded in love. I respect him deeply, though he is only a few years older than me, he is wise and compassionate. Lately, I've been thinking how much I would like to experience and fulfill the physical desires of my heart. I think how much "happier" I would be finding a partner, someone to love, someone to be a part of my life, someone who I could love intellectually, emotionally, and physically. Yet, the reality is that may never be. I will never experience that type of love and relationship. When I look down the road of disciple-ship it is a hard and lonely road; I often wonder if I am ready and willing. I am definitely not ready; for years I thought I was willing. AS I struggle with my addictions, the memory of that weekend fades quickly. The urgency I felt in needing to repent diminishes as well. What remains now are yearnings to be with a man and my addiction to pornography.

The past five months since that weekend have been hard, in terms of the pornography. I am addicted. It is difficult to get away from. I think I am not trying hard enough; I probably am not. Yet, as I reflected on why I am not making progress in abstaining and overcoming my addiction, I asked what motivation I have in doing so? I asked why I continue to be in the church. The answer came down to me not wanting to disappoint my parents. I am still in the church because leaving would be devastating to my parents. I lack sufficient motivation to overcome my addiction, because my motivation in remaining in the church is not to disappoint my parents, it is not related to becoming fully converted to Christ.

Since my mission, I have lost focus of things that matter most. I know leaving the church would damn me; yet my complacency in the church is still damning me. I am refraining from partaking the forbidden fruit because I fear my parents more than I fear God. This is indeed troubling. But it is so complicated. I have a testimony of the gospel and know deeply that God the Father lives; yet, that testimony is not sufficient to motivate me to change. Further, I know this, yet, I have no desire to obtain the necessary motivation. As a result, I feel mired.

I peek onto Craigslist, I engage in pornography and its practice and I fantasize and deeply lust after being intimate with another man. These things feel so natural. Yet, I do not hunger after righteousness. I think of finding a partner, I think of being mates with that partner. I have lost sight of the most important: my salvation. I have lost focus. I understand I have lost focus, yet, I do not feel motivated to do anything about it. I often wish I were never born into the church. I wish I had never made covenants. I wish I had no connection to the church. Somehow, logically in my mind, these would free me to act on the physical and emotional desires of my body. Yet, as I think of this, I feel condemned to be in the church, living out my days journeying the not-so-easy path of discipleship.

There is a small desire within that draws me back, there is a small connection I feel to heaven that fixes me in the church; but the motivation to press forward, to feast on the words of Christ, to embark on that journey is not sufficient. I suppose I can make that appearance, as I did for nearly ten years. But that seems contrary to my own integrity. I do not want to live the lie anymore. Yet, I need to shift my motivation from parents to Heavenly Parents. From fear to the hope of salvation and exaltation. However, while I say the rights things, my actions and thoughts say otherwise. I am confused. I am a child of God who is confused. I hope that I can awake and "come to" myself (as did the Prodigal son). That "coming to" is seemingly far off and intellectually out of reach. However, I have hope that transformation will follow introspection, as explained by Elder Neal A. Maxwell.