I'm supposed to be at work tomorrow at 5... but the honest truth is that I'm sick and I can't sleep.
So here I am.
Thank you to everyone for your kind messages and support. It's been a tough transition, coming out to Dad. The Good is that I am officially out to the world. The Bad is the "hate the sin, love the sinner" sentiments that I receive from home feel a lot more like rejection.
It's as though any righteous thing I have ever done doesn't mean a thing anymore; I am an apostate. Also, my spiritual confirmations that God wants me to be gay and marry a man come from a source that is not God, since the path I choose is in opposition to Church policy. At least, this is what my Dad tells me.
Sure, I expected this reaction, but I thought as his son he'd believe me. I thought he would believe that I am trying to do the right thing, that I am walking in faith. But he believes that I have been deceived.
I honestly do love my Father, believe me! I am just disappointed that his perspective is so locked.
Here is why I am so disappointed: What I have always admired in the Mormon religion is its collective, divine imagination. Mormons embrace creativity and are inspired by fantastical narrative. I think this is why so many members have an affinity for fantasy and science fiction. It must have something to do with the goal of becoming gods... We all get to thinking about how we would make things if we could craft worlds. It might also have to do with our belief that all things that are temporal are also spiritual. While we certainly aren't animists, we do believe the divine is everywhere, that God's spark is everywhere. There is a thrill to igniting that spark, and to watching the world around go up in divine flame... Mormons know this well.
The imagination is, however, limited in Mormon orthodoxy. I'm not to think past the prophets. Sure, I am to have the Spirit confirm their teachings to me, but that is the only option I have. I should study, pray, confirm and obey. At least, that's what I was told to think growing up, and its certainly the impression I get when I listen to others speak of the prophets here at BYU.
But... is that what the prophets are really asking us to do? Are they really saying, "Hey, if you don't believe me, talk to the Holy Ghost! Then you'll know I'm right!" Or... as I like to think... is the invitation to try the words of the prophets an admission that they might be... wrong? Or at least, not in full alignment with what God wants for me? Is this invitation a nod to Christian liberty, or am I just fantasizing?
Every path is as unique as the person who walks it. I'd like to think the words of the prophets are conduits to God; the way we ponder and wrestle with the words we receive draw us closer to The Truth. The Way, The Truth, The Path... Universal symbols that everyone hopes to understand. I'd like to think that my elders, especially those called to be special witnesses of Christ, could give me sound advice on how to find meaning in such symbols.
Its interesting to note that I can feel my insides cringe a little when I admit that the prophets are sometimes wrong. I know many people who would take away my Mormon card right now. Honestly, I'm not a huge Boyd K. Packer fan, and I get a little antsy when we start talking Bruce R. McConkie. People around here are appalled when I admit these things. Seriously! One of my friends let out an offended little noise at my confession, and said, "We love all the Apostles, Elliot!"
Haha! Actually, I agree; I love them all. Like grandpas. But that doesn't mean that I have to agree with everything they say.
And really, thinking for myself is where my adventure begins. Before I came to terms with my sexuality, I swept things that made me feel uncomfortable under the rug. Anything that set off my inner alarms was quickly quieted, and I locked it up in a place in my brain that I don't go to often. Now, I embrace my uncomfortableness, my awkwardness, and my questions. Why? Because they lead me to good places: the still waters, the throne of God, the home I want, just to name a few.
Some of our most important conversations with friends are the ones where we are most vulnerable; where we admit our uncertainties and fears, and we comfort each other.
My most important conversations with God are the ones where I tell Him how much I don't know, how much not knowing sucks, and how much I'm really trying my best with light I've been given.
Honest. Vulnerable. Complete and Whole. There is a lot of self to be found in the dissonance. I remember that resolution can only be as sweet as the dissonance before is terrible. Indeed, I feel that is the glory of God.
Ah, forgive me, that almost makes me sound like I am mentally abusing myself. What I'm really trying to express is my love for this journey. I realize my thoughts are scattered tonight... but I feel grateful and blessed: So I write :)
