The following was written back in September 2009 when after a visit to my Church from a respected "x-gay" leader I was thrown into what many can identify with as "A Desolation of the Soul". Well, today for whatever the reason, I am feeling it again and am wrestling with my emotions. After having read what I wrote in September, I am once again re-posting in the hope that as I do this and spend the next day wrestling with my life, God will come and speak his peace to my lonely heart. One comforting word from his mouth will calm this heart. Thank you for letting me share.
REPOST: September 2009
Tuesday night threw me for a loop, to say the least. I've had two days to process through my feelings and emotions and I'm still reverberating with slight tremors of sadness. It creeps up on me without notice and I find myself sighing deeply, catching my breath and fighting back the tears that want to rush to the surface. I know I have to let it out and I am due a long soulful cry but at the moment I have other pressing needs vying for my attention. Adulthood and all the responsibilities that come with it make it difficult at times to just stop and give in to the self-care regimen required for healthy and optimum life experiences. You have to believe me when I tell you that I desperately want what is good for me. I yearn for all those things imaginable and inherent in all men to be happy and at peace.
Right about now, I long for the days when my Church played long worship sets on Sunday mornings, which usually consisted of forty-five minutes or more of live music. It was enough time for me to engage the divine within me and allow for the emotions held at bay deep inside to come cascading to the surface in the sweetest release of tears; pure manifestations of longing and intimacy. Spirit lovingly embracing my brokenness. Soothing me. Calming the tempests while stirring this heart of passion. Enough time for a good cry before the throne of grace, which always left me feeling lighter, calmer, full of warmth and at peace. Yet part of growing up, I guess, is leaving behind childish things and finding new ways to deal with these bottled up emotions. I am being taught to seek the answers to my emotions, spirit, and soul in contemplative silence. I am trying my best to do just that. I desperately want to fit in and stand on common ground and equal footing with my brothers and sisters. So I am working hard to learn and center myself and seek God in stillness. Honestly, I feel like a circle trying to take the shape of a square. Hasn't this always been the case with me? Always feeling like I never belong; whether in church or out in the streets. In a community where emotional and spiritual health is the road to travel and where many seem to be well on their way to achieving the balance and equilibrium I desperately seek and envy in others; I fall short time and time again. My attempts at contemplative silence end up being misinterpreted as gloomy and sulky depression. A silent "me" makes for an uncomfortable and uneasy exchange in any gathering. May it never be said I was one to consciously dominate or one prone to call attention to myself unless it was called for. I love to be the center of attention, I do, but the need to fit in and belong easily overwrites any tendency at being in the limelight. I'm your man if you ever need entertainment and good laughs at parties and social gatherings but when it comes to church and stuff of that nature I'd much rather let someone else take the lead and shine.
Comiskey's comment about men such as myself who call themselves "Gay-Celibates" as being false and and without merit has left me inconsolable. I so want to be able to say with full assurance: " Comiskey is wrong and I am right" but the truth is his statement has left me once again deeply in doubt and questioning myself. The question being: "Maybe, I am mistaken and have not done enough to bring about the necessary changes needed in my life." Maybe I am resisting God. Maybe men like me are wasting their time in the Outer Courts and when the King finally arrives he will not bother to come and get us and bring us into the inner courts where we long to belong and dwell. In one fell swoop, Comiskey has thrown me into a whirlwind of self-doubt and angst. Here I was, believing intently that as long as I remained celibate I would be pleasing God and garnering his approval. Could it be? I just don't know anymore! And of course, their is no one to talk to in the Church about this because most every body who struggles with same sex attraction is either (a) deep in the closet afraid to come out and allow themselves to be identified,( b) "Hetero-acting" and playing house or (c) in complete denial about their true feelings and sexual desires. Me siento tan miserablemente solo..."I feel so miserably lonely." This loneliness is what brings me face to face with my greatest fear.
I am deathly afraid of being alone. Living alone. Dying alone.
I'm not referring to solitude or anything of that sort. I am referring to the physical state of being without companionship. Henri Nouwen, a gay-celibate priest and writer had this to say concerning this basic human need: “Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity.” I am deathly afraid that I will have to endure the rest of my days without a sense of true belonging, without community, and worse of all, a life devoid of intimate touch and affection.
Life sometimes feels more like a prison sentence rather than a journey or adventure meant to be lived with joyful expectation. This pursuit of happiness etched into our modern-day consciousness sometimes seems insurmountable. Rats in a labyrinth. Some get the cheese at the end of the line and others become lost in the myriad maze and passageways and never reach their desired outcome.
Gay men, such as myself, who carry within them a spark of desire and longing to know and be known by the Maker of the Universe, find themselves more often than not having to wrestle with the teachings and traditions of men while constantly having to assert their worth before the ruling majority, who along with traitors such as Comiskey will time and time again banish crooked men such as myself to the confines of the Outer Courts.
In all this, hope is the greatest weapon in my arsenal at the moment. Hope that He will find me where I am and take me in deeper and closer into freedom and wholeness. I love it when the Psalmist utters: "God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land." (Psalm 68:6). It gives me hope to read such verses. I am not alone, after all. Or am I?
Disclaimer: I'm still processing my emotions and feelings at hearing Andy Comiskey speak so please excuse me for calling him a "traitor". It's my woundedness speaking at the present moment. Please bear with me.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
No comments:
Post a Comment