From Lifelong Partners to Eternal Friends

Steven and Kenneth are two men. They both had same-gender attraction, were attracted to each other, decided to become partners, and have lived together for years.

Today they're faithful, temple-worthy members of the Church.

The first time I heard Steven and Kenneth's story, I wasn't sure how to respond. People had asked me if the doctrine of the Church allowed for "celibate partners" and I honestly hadn't really met anyone that had effectively made that work. I had, on the other hand, seen countless stories of people who had gotten more and more intimate with their physicality, then cross the line and lose (and/or abandon) their Church membership.

What I've realized in the time since is that all I needed to understand was a change in vocabulary. A partner, in context of relationships, implies that you live together and share sexual intimacy outside of marriage. A friend, specifically a best friend, can be almost the exact same relationship but without sexual intimacy.

Do the doctrines of the Church allow for friends? Yes. President Hinckley went so far as to assert that every member should have a friend in the Church. People all need someone to talk to, someone who understands, someone who cares. There are some exceptions to this rule - just like there are to every "should." Just like there are people who never find love in this life, there are people who never find mortal friendship. Thankfully, God fills in the gaps in all cases where life has left a ravine. He can be the friend I need and give the love I can't find, regardless of the circumstances that I face in life. But, in the end, whether mortal or divine, the friendship President Hinckley asserted is still pretty important.

"Best" friends are a little different I think. The moniker seems to hold a connotation to me that everything is shared... and to imply some type of long-term commitment on both sides. A friend may come and go with time, but a "best" friend doesn't. Or, at least in my mind, shouldn't. Scriptures and stories don't always use superlatives, but they still talk about the roles of "best" friends and the impact they had. Joseph and his brother Hyrum. David and Jonathan. Alma and Amulek. Alma the younger and the sons of Mosiah. Helaman and Moroni.

While we aren't sealed to our friends (except spouses...), I'm convinced I'll be friends in Heaven with my friends on Earth. (As long as I get to Heaven.) And if I took the time, I'm sure I could find scriptural and other references supporting that belief.

So the implications follow. The doctrines of the Church support friendship. They support "best" friendship. The commandments establish a standard of morality for those friendships to follow. And any friendships that follow those commandments and help people come into Christ are definitely ok. Including if the people involved were at some time in love.

If every man or woman in the Church had that - a friend who was totally and completely committed to them, who loved them completely and also loved the Lord and understood the role of God and His commandments in love... I think the world would be a better place. We'd have less infidelity in marriage, more love within and without. And fewer people would leave simply because they think that no one understands or cares. Do I think that young men with same-sex attraction should abandon the search for a spouse and instead find a best friend to spend life with? No. Marriage is ordained of God and a crucial part of His eternal plan. It also happens for some men with SSA and not for others. That's between the individual and the Lord to figure out. Friendship, when it leads us to Christ, is always a good thing.

Steven and Kenneth were partners (in every sense of the word) at one point. But they made the choice to change and submit their relationship to their beliefs. They repented, and eventually one baptized the other into the Church. They've been roommates, caretakers (they both have HIV), and best friends ever since.

I don't know how many other super-close SSA friendships like Steven & Kenneth's are out there. How many men or women have found friendship in someone who shares not only their complete love, but also their complete commitment to the gospel. It honestly sounds a bit utopian to me... but that's coming from the guy who has trouble navigating even the simplest of friendships. I envy people's relationships anyway. Either way, I think the doctrine of the Church does allow for best friends. It encourages us to find them and hold them close. Yes, between friends that share common trials, precautions to stay safe are essential. And those need to be personally applied - recovering alcoholics should probably not meet up at a bar, even for the dancing. But if I can bring a friend closer to Christ, and him me, then in the end... we're just friends, regardless of the trials we may individually or severally face. 

And that's definitely good in the eyes of God.

(Read Steven and Kenneth's Story, along with others, at ldsvoicesofhope.org.)

Whom the Lord Loveth...

I was talking with my dad today, and thinking about all the things that have happened in my life over the last few years.

Mixed in with music, writing, the MBA, and everything else, I've had a closer look at how the Lord works in repentance than I ever imagined.

I've seen it before. I served a mission in Italy, with 9 months in Naples - and the mob is cultural reality. Half the people I taught were part of the mob, and I became conversant with the things they'd have to do to get baptized if they were willing to change.

And then (G)MG became a part of my life. And I became a bystander to watch as God did everything in His power to help His children repent.

Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you whom I love, and whom I love I also chasten that their sins may be forgiven, for with the chastisement I prepare a way for their deliverance in all things out of temptation, and I have loved you... (D&C 95:1)

It amazes me. Honestly and truly. Someone tells me about their relationship with a bishop and I'm shocked by the bishop's leniency. Another shares and I'm shocked by his strictness. I watch as God chastens His sons and daughters, puts them through intense humbling experiences, pushes them to the edge of their ability to bear... and then beyond.

All with the goal of changing them into new creatures in Christ. Giving them the hardest/best experiences possible to open their hearts and humble their souls.

I realize that one of the main purposes of life is to help us become like Christ, and that we need intense experiences to help us become who God sees in us.

But sometimes I find myself wondering.

And it helps me remember how utterly incompetent I am when it comes to knowing someone's heart. I'd excommunicate this person; his stake president does nothing. I'd wrap my arms around that one; his bishop calls him to repentance.

Are these priesthood leaders making the right decisions? The best decisions? Those that will help their members come closest to Christ? I don't know. Is there any way to know? The only evidence I have is of outcome, and the Spirit, and the jury is still out on the former. Some guys make the choice to come back - to change their lives and truly commit to being different. Some turn away. And some of those come back years later.

And then I have the scripture in Romans - the scripture that has been most influential in making my life make sense:

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

All things work together for good to them that love God. All things.

In this scripture is a promise - if I will love God and serve Him, everything in my life will work together for good. Everything will be a blessing. And the same thing will happen in the lives of the people I meet each day.

From that perspective, I guess the main thing is whether or not my experiences push me to love God and allow Him to be a part of my life. If I'm close to Him, I could go through anything and it would turn out for my good.

Seeing the Divine

Sometimes, on my low days, I look at my life, and honestly wonder if it's all worth it. Tons of work, effort, fatigue, stress, and everything that I can put in... and this is all I have to show for it? Really? I'm nowhere near where I need to be, and if I'm moving, it's far more slowly than even I can see.

Not that I really have any other option... I already know that swerving from the strait and narrow would only make the road less pleasant, in the long and short run.

But then, sometimes, the Lord shows me a glimpse of what I'm really working towards. A stranger who passes me and stops because he feels compelled to stop... and asks me if I'm okay. Another one who does the same thing. A third on the same street... each of them visibly overcoming the social awkwardness of asking a stranger who looks okay about his life, each of them proof that God's angels are round about me. A prayer answered so clearly and miraculously that I feel uncomfortable telling the story. A friend who calls and asks for a blessing in the middle of the night, and the incredible feeling of love, peace, and power I experience while giving it. Standing in the temple, knowing that in God's eyes, I'm doing my best... and that's all that matters... and that's enough. Sitting under the stars, and realizing that all the stress of life doesn't really matter... the only thing that matters is living the gospel, and helping others do the same.

It's worth it. Giving one blessing of comfort and healing that changes a life forever is worth a hundred sleepless nights of wondering and a thousand prayers of humility and grief. Feeling God work through me, knowing that He will guide and direct and take care of me, is worth giving up all of my dreams, my hopes, and my shallow goals of brilliance and accomplishment. And feeling peace... the peace I feel right now albeit all of life's storms... is worth anything I can give.

God doesn't ask me just to keep His commandments and make a difference in the world. He doesn't expect 10% of who I am, or devotions on the Sabbath and pieces each day along with professional achievements and secular advancement. He wants me to consecrate everything I am, everything I have, and everything I will ever be to Him... and still accomplish everything He expects. And as I do, He blesses me. He gives me the strength to move forward one day at a time, and, sometimes, I get a glimpse of the promises He's made. Brilliant vistas of Heaven and peace beyond comprehension. In return for everything I can give, He promises me all that He has... far more than I could ever give in return.

Faith to Be Made Whole

The greatest stories of triumph in life are not of men overcoming sin and darkness. While compelling, the distinction between light and dark stands before us all as clearly as the day. No. The greatest stories of triumph are of men overcoming humanity itself. Greatness, tribulation, mediocrity, passion, mortality, and all the facets that make life real... and with those ingredients of imperfection, somehow accomplishing the impossible... accessing the divine.

Sometimes it's easy to look at life and think, "If I could only conquer this trial, I would be set." To believe that once I've overcome my sins, or at least lessened them significantly, the pathway should be lined with roses. But overcoming sin is just the beginning of the pathway to conversion... a pathway that continues to climb all the days of life.

Accepting the Savior and His Atonement to pay for my sins, changing who I am, and repenting are all difficult tasks. But I think that sometimes there are even bigger difficulties... and that trials and blessings can be bigger obstacles than sins in arriving at conversion.

It is easy to see how the Atonement can change me from a sinner to a Saint. I repent, ask God forgiveness, and somehow Christ takes upon Himself the suffering for my sins.

But it is far more difficult to comprehend how the Atonement takes my pain, my failings, my talents, and all the rest of our mortal existence... and can somehow make it into perfection.

I've read the scripture in Alma that talks about how Christ suffered for our pains and our sorrows, how He carried our griefs. I know the passage in Preach My Gospel that says that all things that are unfair in life will be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I've taught people that they must lay everything... their faith, their hopes, their dreams, their love, their sins, and all they will ever have, on the altar of the Lord so that He can make them whole.

But it's still hard.

It's hard when I find myself sitting outside on a warm summer night, looking up at stars, wondering if I will ever really be able to find my way.

It's hard when I take a girl out because I want someone to spend time with and I know she'll say yes, not because I'm interested.

It's hard when people around me so easily accomplish the goals I can't reach... and when they seem oblivious to my pain.

And it's hard when I turn to the Heavens and ask, honestly... "Dear Father, what wouldst Thou have me do?"... and the answer is silence... an injunction to move forward on my own.

The greatest difficulty I've faced in life has not been same-sex attraction. It has been reconciling that trial, and every other facet of my life, with the reality of God's Plan for me. It's been learning to be humble, learning to accept His will, and ultimately having faith that it will all work out even if I have no idea how.

I think that's what the Lord expects of me, anyway. True miracles don't usually happen because those who ask for them understand how they are done... or even know the circumstances under which they operate. True miracles... like the miracle of spiritual healing that far surpasses any removal of mortal trials... come from felt need, honest faith, and submitting, completely, to God.

I don't know which way the Lord would have me go. Life is a mess. And yet I know that it will all work out. As I continue in faith, someday the Lord will help me write my own greatest story. He will take my inadequacies, my temptations, my trials, my hopes, my talents, my dreams... and then return them to me perfected. He will heal my heart completely, and I will be made whole.

Broken

There's a song I heard once that I really didn't like. It was something like "God Loves Broken Things." I didn't like the tune, the word choices, or the way the guy sang.

But the song has stuck with me, even though I can't remember the tune or any of the words, and I still remember the feeling I had when I looked inside and realized that I was broken... and that was okay.

Broken can mean a lot of things. It's the feeling of abject despair when total and absolute depression sets in - the real kind they make medication for, but doesn't always respond, no matter what I try. It's the realization that all the work I've done over years can't open the doors I need to move forward, or yet another full batch of relationships gone wrong. Dreams shattered, life in oblivion, and an apathy towards reality that pulls me from society and pushes all but those closest to me away.

I used to feel like I had no right to be powerless, no right to be depressed, no right to be broken or despondent. The sheer reality that I was, made life even worse - a cycle that pulled me deeper and deeper, until I finally let go.

Being broken has some interesting physical correlations. When I run a gazillion miles, eventually my body runs out of energy completely. At least, in the moment, it feels that way. It's sudden, and, in an instant the simple act of walking or running or biking or whatever is like pushing through mud or molasses. From all outside respects, it looks like there's really no hope unless I go eat something with a whole lot of sugar. I'm broken. But, inside, opaque to my perspective, a miracle is happening. When my body runs out of energy in the form of glucose and glycogen, my muscles switch fuels. Glucose is replace with ketone, and proteins are broken down into emergency glucose for indispensable nervous functions. Even my brain switches. And, as soon as the adaptation is over, life moves on.

I feel like the Lord is often trying to teach me something when I hit the wall spiritually and emotionally. When I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck, or like the world is going to cave in on me... because at those times, I'm forced to look at my life and refocus on the Lord. Sometimes the rope that I'm holding on to, hoping that it will pull me up, is friendship. Sometimes it's my own will. Sometimes it's just stubbornness.

But in most cases, the rope I was holding on to wasn't a rope that would ever pull me up. It would only pull me down... and when I learned to accept reality, to be okay with being broken, that gave the Lord a chance to help me see where I needed to change.

Right now I'm broken. Physically, emotionally, socially, professionally... I feel like everything is shattering around me in every facet I can dream. Every facet but one. I know God loves me, that I'm giving my best, and that, no matter what happens, He will be with me.

And maybe that's why I'm broken - so that I can learn to better rely on the Lord instead of everything else in my life. To help me see that, when nothing else can, He has the power to bring me from the depths and do more than just fix me. From the broken pieces of my life, He creates something better than before... if I'm willing to let Him. And then I move on, until it's time to be broken once again.

Ultimatum: My Conversation with God

Ul•ti•ma•tum - noun, pl. -tums
A final, uncompromising demand or set of terms issued by a party to a dispute, the rejection of which may lead to a severance of relations or to the use of force.

Throughout the less inspired portions of my life I've sometimes asked the Lord, over and over and over again, to do something that fit my demands. I wanted people to love me unconditionally. I wanted them to understand and befriend me. I wanted them to appreciate the sacrifices I was making. I wanted a happy family, the perfect life, and the ability to make my trials melt away with faith and prayer. In some of them, I found myself simply asking the Lord for help, but in others I realize that I was dictating what I would and wouldn't do, based on His involvement in my life. I was giving God ultimatums.

They all made sense to me, and, to be honest, were based on extremely poignant needs and rooted in strong faith that the Lord, in His power, could do anything for me. But with each fervent request there was a consequence I had constructed - a penalty if God did not do what I told Him I needed Him to do. I wouldn't date if I didn't have the assurance that I would someday find a wife. I wouldn't tell my priesthood leaders about past transgressions unless they, or the Lord, told me to in no uncertain terms. I wouldn't engage in life and society if society and life didn't understand me. In each case, along with the fervent prayer, was a caveat... and those caveats limited the ability of the Lord to teach me, inspire me, and help me achieve the goals I had in the first place.

An ultimatum with God tries to enforce my will, my logic, my timeframe, and my knowledge onto the ruler of the Universe... instead of humbly asking Him for help and being willing to do whatever He asks of me.

But God can give ultimatums, too.

The conversion stories of Paul, Alma the Younger, and the people of Ammon have always been intriguing to me. In a moment, these people received a personal ultimatum from God and changed a massive part of who they were, how they saw life, and how they interacted with the Lord... and never turned back. It applied to them so deeply and personally that they could never, ever forget... and it gave them the strength to resist temptation for the rest of their lives. Now I think I know, at least in part, how they felt... because it's happened to me.

A little while ago I had a dream. In the dream, I was sleeping in a bed with my siblings. I got out of bed and my mother came in the room, then clearly explained that she knew about all of my past sins. "I love you," she said, "and I understand what you are going through, perfectly. But if this (sins associated with SSA - pornography, masturbation, ...) ever happens again, you will begin to lose your ability to help them (indicating my siblings)."

The dream broke, and I woke up shaking. It was obvious to me what it meant. There's no one on earth - my mother included - who truly understands me perfectly. Only God could say that. And the consequence that He revealed - beginning to lose my ability to help my brothers and sisters here on the earth - touched me deeper than anything else could... because it was personal, because it made sense, and because I knew it was real. That was it - the Lord had drawn the line in the sand, and crossing it again, even once, would have clear, present, and lasting consequences for me... and also for others. If I ever crossed the line again, something would be lost in me - and due to my lack of faith, someone else's needs would go unmet and unnoticed.

It will take a lifetime to see what I do with the knowledge I've gained from God - whether I will value my own salvation, and my ability to help others, or whether I will trade those for the things I think I want. Whether I will make my own demands, or follow the will of God. Whether I will forget, or burn the memory in my heart. Either way, the ultimatum is down... and it's my choice from now on. I value my ability to help others, and my own eternal happiness, more than anything else, and so I plan on doing everything I can to stay faithful, no matter what the cost.

The Tenth Leper

Luke 17
12 And as he entered into a certain village, there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off:
13 And they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.
14 And when he saw them, he said unto them, Go shew yourselves unto the priests. And it came to pass, that, as they went, they were cleansed.
15 And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, and with a loud voice glorified God,
16 And fell down on his face at his feet, giving him thanks: and he was a Samaritan.
17 And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine?
18 There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger.
19 And he said unto him, Arise, go thy way: thy faith hath made thee whole.

What does it mean to be "made whole," and how is it different from being cleansed? Is it just the spiritual equivalent of being cleansed? It required considerable faith for the ten lepers to be healed of leprosy... does that mean that being made whole requires even greater faith? And how does this apply to my life?

If Christ came to me today, and offered to take away all of my physical trials, I'd be like one of the ten lepers - calling to Him from afar off and asking for His intervention on my behalf. If He healed me, I'm sure I'd be grateful, as the other 9 lepers most definitely were. What made the tenth leper so different? Was it just that He returned to give thanks? Is gratitude such a big part of repentance that our becoming whole is contingent on our ability to give thanks and give the glory to God? And if the true meaning of the parable is the importance of being whole - not simply cleansed - what does that mean to me?

Those are the questions going through my mind as I read this account. I think Christ was trying to illustrate the importance of striving to become whole - spiritually whole - instead of simply asking for relief from the difficulties of life... focusing on the spiritual aspects of imperfection in mortality. And I think that here He shares an interesting message - how key gratitude is in being saved. Being "whole" is often similar in root to being "perfect" - complete, unspotted, righteous in every way. The woman with an issue of blood was declared whole after she put her faith in Christ, as was the tenth leper, and the man who received his sight. All of them did something more than just have the faith to receive physical miracles in their behalf; they had the faith to receive unseen spiritual miracles that far surpassed what could be seen on the surface.

I think that's the miracle that I should always be praying for - not to be freed from trials or tribulations, but the miracle of being able to live and keep the commandments in any situation. Being willing to date, and learning to enjoy it, even though I'm not attracted to women. Coping with attraction to guys and finding ways to ensure the positive side of interactions with them. And being willing to live life and keep moving forward no matter what happens - even if I spend the rest of life alone - and learning to be happy in those circumstances.

I used to think that happiness came as a byproduct of completing a given set of to-do's, among which were finding an eternal companion, having a family, etc... Now I realize that happiness isn't something that comes at the end of mortality or even after I have weathered my trials. It is available today, and tomorrow, and the next day. And I don't have to downgrade my morals to find it. It's available through God.

I obviously can't really talk about what went through their minds without it being conjecture, but I think that's what made the tenth leper different. I think that, if he hadn't been healed, he would have continued to believe in Christ and praise God - and maybe that is what made the difference. He had already found happiness in doing what was right within his ability, and the outward miracle of healing was just that - an outward manifestation to match a greater inward change... and Christ's miracle was an opportunity to invite me, and all those present, to exercise the same faith to be made whole.

Being Rescued

Every time I hear the story of the Martin and Willie handcart companies, I see in my mind's eye the people shivering in the cold, wanting to survive, having given everything they have, hoping against all odds that they can finally arrive in Zion. They've watched their brothers and sisters and friends die along the trail, and they've finally reached the point where they have no more strength, no more hope, nothing left to give.

And I'm there with them.

I've been there, in the place between spiritual life and death, watching as people fall around me, and wondering if I'll have the strength to live another day, or if I'll just give up. I've been the person who prayed for God's strength and felt it pushing me on one more day... not transporting me to Zion, but helping me move to the next day or even the next hour. And I, somehow, was rescued by the hand of God from the storm. But once you've felt the suffering, you can never forget it. It's different from anything else in the world, in a way... And I don't think that anyone who hasn't been called to pass through this way of life could ever understand the feelings and lessons learned from it.

Today, there isn't a physical storm raging in life. There is no snow or blizzard or darkening clouds. But, among my friends and neighbors, there are hundreds, thousands of men and women who are holding on to life in the gospel. Men and women who have given everything they have, who wonder if help will ever come, who turn to God and simply cry for relief of their pain and the strength to live one more day. And, as a saint, I have a responsibility to look, to search, and to never stop looking until I find them and bring them safely home. President Brigham Young told the Saints when he heard about the handcart companies struggling 300 miles away that their salvation rested upon their application of the Gospel in the realities of life - whether or not they were willing to give their lives in the service of their brethren, immediately... and I believe the same applies today. My brothers and sisters are searching, hoping to find hope and peace and faith, and the proof of my faith will come as I show my love for them... and my willingness to sacrifice on their behalf. I was rescued once, twice, countless times by the hand of God... now it's my turn to be His hand and help others along the way.

"To Thine Own Self Be True..." but Who Am I?

A few years ago I realized that I didn't really know who I was... and found myself face-to-face with a question that every Mormon (and most others) faces at some point in life: Who am I?

This wasn't some cute little exercise in existential goalmaking, a short list of the qualities I wanted to assume to become the eventual perfect spouse, or a transcript of the gifts outlined in my Patriarchal blessing... and there wasn't anything pleasant about the process. The conflict took root out of pain and fear and distress, spent years slowly smoldering in the back of my soul, and finally burst out in flames, pitting me between myself... and myself. (I probably could have used less metaphoric flowery language, but that's what came out) 

As you can probably guess, at the core of my distress were two seemingly contradictory sets of core beliefs. The first belief was the now brightly burning flame: "I'm gay, Mormon, unmarried, and having trouble with my social life. I've been on a mission, paid my dues, done everything right, and I'm not happy. And other people tell me I'll never be happy or fulfilled unless I embrace myself for who I am - gay - and give up hope that one day God will 'free me from my trials,' because He won't."

The second belief didn't burn or ask for attention the same way, but it was still there: "I am a child of God, and He has sent me here - to these circumstances, these problems - with the ability to keep the commandments and succeed in returning to Him. If I keep the commandments and strive to follow the Lord, He will take care of me... and I'll be happy and blessed - here in this life, and for eternity."

For a while I lived a double life. I did everything I could in my Church callings, but then found myself fantasizing about guys late at night. It tore me apart when I thought about it, so I tried not to think. I rationalized that I could be extra-righteous in other areas to make up for it. And none of the interventions I tried seemed to work anyway.

And then, one night in prayer, I realized that I had to choose between the two. The smoldering embers had burst into a fire, and I needed to either put it out, or give it room in my heart to change me forever. Am I a son of God, who is willing to do anything He asks me to - anything at all, no matter what the cost? Or do I choose to disbelieve the promptings the Spirit has given me for years and years and years - and rationalize that God will suspend the commandments in my case?

This was the turning point - the point where men turn their backs on God and the Church, the point where other men turn their backs on their families... the point where I could turn away from my faith, or turn to God, away from my own desires and demands. That night I put everything on the altar of sacrifice, and told the Lord I would do anything He asked.

For me, the first hard thing to do was to talk with my bishop. I have pride issues, and Satan convinced me that talking with him would mark me in his eyes, destroy my reputation, hurt my ability to serve others. But none of that happened. I went to him, honestly explained everything, and asked for his help... and he listened, and helped me to be healed. And thus began the process of reclaiming my life and who I was.

Reclaiming who I was wasn't that easy. Over years, beliefs, needs, and addictions had taken root in my heart, and I had to cut them out to begin to be healed. And, perhaps most difficult, I had to believe each day that when I cut out part of my heart, God would make me whole. I had to believe that leaving myself vulnerable, with unmet needs, would give God the room to come more fully into my life.

And, somehow, He did. As I turned to Him and found peace in the little things of the gospel, withdrawal and depression, pain and isolation, ostracism and fear and tears slowly gave way to a new set of beliefs - not only am I a child of God, but each day I can come closer to Him. With Him, I can overcome any trial. And as I come closer to Him, I feel what He feels - joy, fulfillment, peace, hope, faith, love. Today, the gospel, and all its blessings, is true for me.

I'll probably have other beliefs that will compete in my heart for space as life continues - beliefs about who I am, constructions from the world or society that tell me who I should be. But hopefully, in the future, I'll have the foresight to be true to who I really am and pull them out as soon as they begin to strangle the tree of life that is slowly growing in my heart. And, someday... that tree will bear fruit... and I'll be the man God sees deep inside me - perfected, purified, and at peace - in His presence once more.

Peace. Heavenly Peace.

Sometimes I spend a lot of time analyzing issues in my life. I don't always feel dramatic distress, but my mind is constantly whizzing from one idea to another... wondering how the events that happen today will affect my future tomorrow.

It means that when I date I'm constantly looking forward and trying to ensure that I'm neither leading a girl on, nor "not giving the relationship a fair chance." (Both of which are almost unpardonable sins in my mind, at least in my life) It means that when things go wrong in life I wonder how they will influence the decisions I can make in the future, how they will affect my peers, and how everything affects my family and close associates.

But even though my mind is often a blur of activity, I can still sit down, close my eyes, clear my mind, voice a silent prayer, and open my heart to listen to the Heavens. And the answer I receive is peace.

There's a lot in my life that isn't going right. Almost nothing on my to-do list will get done today. My callings seem to be floundering and I still haven't had more than phone and text conversations with some of the people I home teach. My bedroom is a mess. I haven't talked with some of my close family members in months. I still get an incredible urge to bite my nails when I'm stressed. And I bite my nails when I'm stressed. My dating life is miserable, and my friendships are constantly going through the shredder. I have a ton of people that I should have contacted that I haven't. And it's night already and I haven't taken time to really, honestly pray yet.

But there are some things that are going right... things that make the difference in my life... and things that give me the peace that I need when everything else is going wrong.

I still make time to study the scriptures. I try to make it as easy as possible... so most days I read them before 12:00 at night. I take time each day to pray. I tell God honestly about my life, and we talk about the issues I'm facing, the things I'm learning from my trials, and the things I need to do better. I attend Church, and go to the temple, and try to do the things I should.

But the most important aspect is that I'm clean. I'm not addicted to pornography, I honestly try to live the commandments, and when I make mistakes, I try to fix them. It doesn't mean I don't face issues; for example, I met a guy today who definitely turned my head. He had a great personality, a great smile, and a great body. But that's as far as the attraction goes. I acknowledge it and move on with life. And in life, while I have chaos, I also have peace.

I think that's what keeps me going. The knowledge that I'm doing okay and that everything - right now - is working together for my good. It's not just a feeling that "someday" everything will be better - that someday I'll find a wife, live happily ever after, and be saved (especially because those "somedays" never really come)... but a feeling that today, honestly and sincerely, everything is good... at least from God's perspective. I have a long way to go, a lot of problems to fix, and I may never see most of my goals in this life. But, today, I'm okay. I'm on the right pathway, I'm moving forward, and as I turn to God and give Him my will, He gives me peace.

For me, that was the blessing that came when I was able to free myself from pornography. It was the blessing that came when I honestly told my priesthood leaders everything I could, and the feeling that came when I realized I could withstand temptation instead of caving in. It gives me hope when I find myself comparing my life to others, wishing I were different or that the Lord had given me different trials. It gives me courage to help others find that same peace that they are seeking - enough to encourage them to change their lives to match their goals and who they want to be. And it gives me freedom, because I know that, whatever the Lord asks me to do, I can do it. I will do it.

Christ told His apostles, "my peace I give unto you... in the world ye shall have tribulation... but be not troubled. I have overcome the world." I think this is what He was talking about - the assurance that everything is right, the ability to be truly happy, the faith to follow that comes from moving forward on the path... being willing to relinquish my fears and doubts and hopes and dreams to God... and asking Him for peace.

Washing Seven Times in the River Jordan

When I struggled most with addictions to pornography, felt worse as a gay mormon than the sludge of the earth, and couldn't even bring myself to pray, inside my heart I still had the wish for a miracle. The wish to be clean... to be made whole... to be normal.

In the scriptures I feel a kinship to many of the people who undergo suffering in life... but perhaps no one more than the lepers - men and women physically cast out of their homes and families because of leprosy. Leprosy in the times of the Jews was viewed almost exactly as homosexuality was by me on my hardest days... and it had almost the exact same effects. An incurable curse of uncleanliness... an unspoken and unspeakable condition that divided me from humanity and feeling loved or understood by mankind. Except that, unlike the lepers, who could be seen and upon whom others could take compassion... no one could ever see my sores... there was no one to share my pain.

In 2 Kings, chapter 5, the scriptures tell the story of a man named Naaman. He was a good man... but he had leprosy... and he was miraculously healed through non-miraculous means.

1 Now Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master, and honourable, because by him the Lord had given deliverance unto Syria: he was also a mighty man in valour, but he was a leper.
2 And the Syrians had gone out by companies, and had brought away captive out of the land of Israel a little maid; and she waited on Naaman's wife.
3 And she said unto her mistress, Would God my lord were with the prophet that is in Samaria! for he would recover him of his leprosy.
...
9 So Naaman came with his horses and with his chariot, and stood at the door of the house of Elisha.
10 And Elisha sent a messenger unto him, saying, Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and thy flesh shall come again to thee, and thou shalt be clean.
11 But Naaman was wroth, and went away, and said, Behold, I thought, He will surely come out to me, and stand, and call on the name of the Lord his God, and strike his hand over the place, and recover the leper.
12 Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them, and be clean? So he turned and went away in a rage.
13 And his servants came near, and spake unto him, and said, My father, if the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done it? how much rather then, when he saith to thee, Wash, and be clean?
14 Then went he down, and dipped himself seven times in Jordan, according to the saying of the man of God: and his flesh came again like unto the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.

Someone asked me this week what my solution was. What had I done that had tamed the dragon of homosexual desires and freed me from the draw of pornography and the grasp of addiction? I've tried hundreds of ideas - reading books, writing journal entries, buying good music, getting priesthood blessings, dating, trying to make friends with guys and fix old relationships, and making convoluted deals with myself to reward good behavior and punish bad. But none of them worked. They all seemed to give me some strength, and they all seemed initially to be the answer to my desires... but in the end none of them stuck. I found myself in the same hole as before. And, in reality, the answer was right in front of me all along.

For most of my life, I had the same misunderstanding that Naaman did. Like leprosy was to him, homosexuality seemed to me an unbearable and unusual trial - something that merited an unusual miracle to set me free. I wanted a priesthood blessing that would make me fall in love with a girl, or a set of unique therapeutic techniques that would leave me never wanting to see pornography again. That didn't happen - the same way Elisha didn't come out and strike the spots to make him clean. 

I saw very little success until I tried one last thing - focusing on the basic principles, the Primary answers, of the gospel. And not just focusing on them, but making them into the fabric of my life.

In Preach My Gospel it says that a study of doctrine will change behavior better than a study of behavior will change behavior. In my mind, I visualize my spirituality and ability to keep the commandments as a long line compared to the topics of the gospel. I was on solid ground around my testimony of the Book of Mormon, my belief in the prophet, my commitment to the temple. But where pornography and all its attendant demons lay, there was a massive chasm that stretched down into the abyss itself. 

For a long time, I tried to fill the abyss by throwing rocks in it. I'd pick up a technique like turning off the Internet in my apartment, and toss it in, hoping that it would suddenly cause the chasm to rise. Um... it doesn't take a geologist to tell me that's not going to happen. 

But any kid on the beach can tell you there are two ways to fill, or dig, a hole. 

When you dig a hole in the sand, you dig straight down. But eventually, because the sand relies on other sand laterally to support it, and the undersides are slowly eroded by water exposed by the hole, the sides of the hole collapse in an ever-expanding ring. The same thing happens with many problems in the gospel. Let them grow deeper and deeper, and eventually the problem that was once small will erode away everything. I've known men who bore powerful testimonies as they began to struggle with same-gender attraction... or who were just facing offense in the Church... but who gave in to it and years later told me they didn't even believe in God.

Filling a hole, or building a mountain, works the same way. You can try to build upward, but the higher the sand pile, the larger the area it covers. And because in the gospel it becomes easier to grow the more righteous you are, filling a hole is easier... and makes more sense... by focusing on simply increasing faith that is already there nearby. When I learn and apply principles of the gospel, my faith "spills over" into other areas - because the gospel is related.

Obviously, there were things I had to still focus on. Throwing caution to the wind because I do my scripture study is foolhardy. But it wasn't until I started truly focusing on the "little" things - prayer, scripture study, church activity, serving others, and sharing the gospel - that my demons and my hole of faith began to shrink. But that is how it worked for me. And as my faith has grown, it has set me free.

I'll include a major caveat. I'm not talking about scripture study where I sit down and read for ten minutes before sleeping, or prayers said quickly before bed. Those never had the power to change me. No. I needed much, much more, over a much longer period of time. One of the scriptural meanings of the number seven is "a whole lot." Naaman had to wash a whole lot of times in the river Jordan; I had to do a whole lot to begin to see results from filling my hole of faith. And the results I saw weren't complete and total change, but an increased perspective and faith in the Lord that He would fulfill His promises. Either way, it was worth it. My scripture study was daily, and combined with more time on Sunday translated into literally hours of personal reflection and writing each week - trying to see personal stories and meaning in the scriptures even when it was hard to stay focused. My prayers lasted sometimes for hours - written and spoken and voiced conversations with God on every topic under the sun, learning about Him and His will in my life. It meant that I took personal responsibility for as much as I could in Church, and actively reached out and included others even when I felt left out. I opened my mouth and shared the gospel even when I felt awkward and out of place. 

I think the biggest initial shock and investment was the amount of time that it took to actually live the gospel and do the small things enough to make it work. It took me at least 15 hours each week to do just the basics - earnest prayer, meaningful scripture study, reflection, and journaling - not even counting spontaneous service and missionary opportunities. I found I had to plan out my day and week or I would end up turning down social invitations because I needed to take the time to pray or write or study. But I wanted to change who I was - enough that I was willing to wash in the Jordan as many times as necessary... and over years, slowly, it has changed my life.

Unlike Naaman, however, I'm still washing in the Jordan today... and I'll probably have to wash in it every day for the rest of my life. I still have to worry about the pull of pornography jumping from the shadows, and attraction taking center stage in my mind. I may be attracted to some men for the rest of mortality. But every time I read the scriptures, pray, or turn to the Lord in faith, He strengthens me... and I am that much closer to being the man He sees in me. I'll get there someday. But I'm pretty certain it will take a whole lot more than washing in a river seven times.

Addiction, Abuse, Depression... and Hope

I have a family member who has always seemed like he was okay from the outside... but who also seems to carry some type of hidden weight that I can't understand. We aren't close enough that he would ever tell me his struggles, even though I wish I could be there for him... and often all I can do is watch and wonder what to do.

Today I learned that he had made a decision that put him in direct conflict with the teachings of the Church and everything I knew he had learned in his family - on principles that I thought I could take for granted in his life. When I found out I just sat and cried.

I cried because I was confused... because I have no idea why he made the choice he did. I cried because I was frustrated that I couldn't understand. I cried because I didn't know what to say, or even if I should bring it up, or how I should breach the topic. And I cried because, in watching him, it brought back memories of all the other people I've loved who have made similar decisions... decisions that maybe won't deny them their salvation today, but that, too often, influence the choices they make tomorrow and the next day... and before they know it, they've chosen to leave the Church - not from one big thing, but a thousand little ones, mixed with a lack of reading the scriptures, personal prayer, and developing a relationship with God.

And then, as I was crying, I realized that I was also crying because I could see myself in him... and my mind flooded with memories of my own choices - times when I was in huge amounts of pain and chose to act against what I knew was right.

At 16 years old, I was sexually abused. I had already spent years fighting the pull of pornography and finally felt like I was winning when it happened... and the experience was enough to rip my world apart. That day, I believed that it was my fault - that if I had been a better kid, more righteous, more faithful, then the abuse wouldn't have happened. The thoughts that ran through my head were powerful. God protects the righteous, but He didn't protect me... which means that I was a sinner, and not worthy of His love. I envisioned a shield of power that surrounded those with faith... and a field of deviance surrounding those like me. I believed that somehow my past decisions must have come out in subconscious invitations to a sexual predator. I thought it was retribution from God, or a penalty I had to pay, or proof that I hadn't really conquered my devils - because I must have done something to invite the abuse. Either way, I was less than worthless, evil, cast off, and doomed to damnation. It seemed like there was no light or hope in my life. And it didn't seem like anyone cared or understood... because I felt so guilty about everything involved that I could never bring myself to tell what I saw as the true story.

I was at home one night that week, struggling with the massive pull of pornography, and a new deep and confusing desire to die, and I finally found myself kneeling at my bedside in tears. I hadn't felt worthy to pray, to read my scriptures, to do anything that would bring me to the presence of God... but somewhere, deep inside, I knew that only He could really help me fix the problem I had created and find peace, even if I had lost my chance at salvation. The tears of pain and frustration and remorse and guilt and fear wracked my body as I sobbed an shared my pain, and told everything that I had wanted and hoped for and how it had shattered in a moment. I prayed for something, anything to help me fix my life, overcome my temptations, and become clean again. I didn't know if anything would happen. The pain was still there, the temptation was still there, the guilt was still there... but I kept praying... because I wanted to believe. 

I didn't get an answer of peace or comfort right away. Instead, I began to remember all the times the Lord had given me strength - the opportunities I had to share the gospel, the people who looked up to me when I didn't even know. I remembered the love I had as a home teacher, and the love I had for the scriptures, and the countless times that He had already answered my prayers and given me hope and helped me in little ways, even as I struggled with sin. 

As I prayed that night, crying by my bedside, I felt stronger, and for a moment, I believed that, with God, I could do anything. Conquer any trial, best any temptation, be the change I wanted to see in humanity and the world. I believed that because He told me it was true - that, if I would simply turn to Him, there was no hole too deep, no tunnel too dark, no sin too great to keep His grace and love and help from me. He would always be there, no matter what, as my Father, my God, my Savior, my Friend. And then I felt peace - peace and the assurance that the abuse I had experienced wasn't my fault... that I hadn't destroyed my life beyond hope... that I could come back to Him someday.

I went to sleep that night peacefully for the first time that I could remember. It wasn't the last time that I pled for hope, though - while the experience gave me hope, it wasn't enough to change me or to help me rise completely from my addictions. But I knew that He was still there for me... even the hundredth time that I fell and believed that I had forsaken my birthright. He would always be there... and eventually we would win the war... if I would just keep holding on, whether each battle was won or lost.

I look back at my family member who is struggling with making choices... who is on the edge of choosing to serve God or the desires of the world. And, as confused as he may be, I know what I can do for him. Love him, support him in the good he does, find ways to help him know that God cares and is involved in his life, help him grow in faith... and never give up or give in. No matter what demons we face, God is always the answer. No matter how many times we have fallen, or how we have strayed, He is here with us... and no matter what happens, He will always be here at our sides.

Premortal Character Creation

I had a conversation with someone the other day about the pros and cons of life and how they always even out for each person in the end. Everyone has different trials and blessings and circumstances and opportunities, but "all things work together for the good of them that love God and serve Him."

In another conversation someone mentioned that we don't choose our trials or temptations. "At least in this life..." was my response. And the mixture of the two brings an interesting view to mind.

I've definitely played my share of games - video, computer, card, board, imaginary, role-playing, you name it. One of the first steps in taking part in many games is "character creation" - the customization of a persona to represent me in the game. Some games, like Monopoly, give me a very small range of choices. I can be the dog or the shoe, and not the same as someone else. Card games, I choose who to sit by. Other games provide a framework to create a character in the game world that fits a certain role.

Probably the most famous example is Dungeons & Dragons. And that's the example that comes to mind.

Dungeons & Dragons is the stereotypical role-playing game - where players can do literally anything within the framework of the game because it's mediated by a third party who arbitrates the rules as time goes on. Players are usually in groups and can be doing anything in the game world from walking down a crowded city street to flying through space. It's essentially an imaginary game with rules that are enforced using probabilities and random dice rolls.

Creating a character for D&D is simple at a glance.  In one style, players have a number of "creation points" that can be used to purchase attributes. Exceptional charisma costs a few more points. So does higher intelligence or a royal background. But I can also "purchase" not-so-desirable characteristics - anything from being colorblind to allergic to human hair - and with each "purchase" of deficits, I'm actually credited more points to spend. The most expensive, desirable attributes actually cost far more than the initial allocation of points, which means that characters with those traits will indubitably have a host of trials to go along with them. But, in the end, everyone will spend all the points, and the game begins.

I just wondered how real lives were created and designed before this life... and the thought of sitting around a massive table, creating the persona that I would assume here, with costs for talents and credits for trials, made me laugh. I only played D&D a few times, and those few times I had way too much fun creating characters with dozens of outlandish traits. I could definitely see myself looking at life, reading the instruction manual that told about the potential benefits and drawbacks to individual characteristics in life, and choosing the blessings and trials I have today.

In reality, though, designing life is much simpler and less prone to error than choosing random propensities from a rulebook. God knows me. He knows who I am and knows the exact things I need to return to Him... and that is the sum total of my life. Everything I write about here at (Gay) Mormon Guy wasn't random, or caused by some mysterious outside interplay. If my needs weren't obvious to me before this life, they were to Him, and my life was created, with all of its awesome blessings and interesting trials, for me and my good... because God loves me and wants me to learn to be happy... to grow stronger and stronger in faith and return to Him someday.

Whether or not I chose my trials in life before I came here, God has the power to determine what will happen. He could make me smart, handsome, popular, rich, famous, spiritual, wise, and every other good thing... and He could take away my trials in an instant. But He doesn't... because He loves me more than that... because He wants me to become the man He sees in me. Life isn't about perfect character creation. It's about living in an imperfect world, in an imperfect avatar, and learning to become and change into perfection through Christ. It's a journey, and I'll meet things far worse than dragons on the way. Bur God is with me, and at the helm of my life. He's in control. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Watching People Fall in Love

Of all the blessings I have ever experienced, the most memorable and compelling is being able to watch others fall in love. I'm not talking about falling in love with a person; I'm talking about falling in love with God and His teachings. It's one thing to see someone gain a love for history, or fall in love with sci-fi novels. It's another thing to watch their eyes light up when someone walks into the room. But there is nothing like the sublime ability to see their eyes light up from the inside... To see them fall in love with life itself... To find meaning in their trials and hope in their suffering.

The only thing better, for me, is to know that, in some small way, I played a part.

It makes everything worth it.

Causation or Happenstance

I think a lot. I used to think that was normal until I went on my mission and learned that some people (as embodied in my companions) just didn't spend all day pondering. I'm still not really sure what people are doing when they're not thinking, but that's another issue altogether.

When I learned that overthinking was one of my personal traits, I wondered if it was correlated in any way with being attracted to guys. Now that may sound absurd, but physical attraction is a physical phenomenon - hence it is effected by definite differences somewhere in the brain. The brain is a complex organ; many chemicals and reaction sites function on many different levels - hence a difference in one area is likely to correlate with differences in others. The same thing happens in genetics - flowers that are purple usually have less disease resistance than flowers of the same type that are red.

So I wondered if overthinking was a side effect of being attracted to guys, or in some way a part of the whole. I read a paper once by a lead practitioner for LDS Family Services that found inordinate introspection as an anecdotal correlation, but I'm still not sure. And if it is correlated, what does that even mean?

The world has a definition of the gay guy or lesbian woman that falls into stereotypes. In the media, gay guys groom themselves meticulously, follow fashion religiously, passionately hate those who don't condone their lifestyle, are into the art-side of world more than other guys, wear way more earrings... but are these social constructs to which they unite themselves, or manifestations of joint differences in brain chemistry?

It's important to me because I'm trying to figure out who I am, and what I'm dealing with when it comes to my brain. The parts of "gay culture" that have been constructed aren't as useful, applicable, or interesting to me because they don't always apply - and I've found that as a religious, faithful Mormon, I lack one of the key characteristics to be accepted in the gay world (strong negative emotions towards those that don't support homosexual activity)... I'm somewhat spurned as a legitimate member of that culture anyway. 

Understanding the interplay between complex physiochemical relationships would be ideal for better understanding how to live while attracted to guys. Preliminary testing has been done trying to show a definite correlation with serotonin uptake and depression, for example, which means that dietary supplementation with tryptophan - the chemical precursor to serotonin - may have substantial effects on alleviating depression. Depression is one of the 5 symptoms of the "syndemic" of the urban gay men - very high rates (as compared with the general urban male populace) of depression, suicide, AIDS, partner abuse, and substance abuse. (Those of you who want sources, they are freely available online. For example, search "gay syndemic." This post is not intended for publication in Science magazine.) It's obvious that gay men are not physiochemically more inclined to get AIDS - it comes from actions they take instead of being inborn. Partner abuse, substance abuse, and suicide are also active, but those are often predicated on dissatisfaction with life... which could be caused by depression rates. All those pieces together? If depression is an underlying factor that detracts from my quality of life, and is related to the chemistry of my brain, then it's worth investigating.

But is it caused by differences in brain chemistry?

Some people in the gay world claim that depression in gay men and women is completely due to external causation. One group feels it is caused directly by society - that exclusionary day-to-day practices and tenets are what cause depression, not any inherent tendency. This is probably only partially accurate, as the urban metropolis is typically a much more accepting area, and the day-to-day affairs of gay men wouldn't run into those who have such a huge emotional influence on them to cause depression, unless they were predisposed to it. It also doesn't match my own experience - as I rarely feel discriminated against in my life, yet I've had depression.

Another thought is that depression is linked to society's disapproval as a whole of gay relationships - hence the hot battle for equalization of gay with other relationships in the public sphere. But that can't be completely true either - the vast majority of gay men, which would be represented in the urban syndemics, are sexually promiscuous, and hence incur society's views on promiscuous sexual actions - not intimate monogamous relationships. Yes, they may be actively involved in and passionately opposed to current views on same-sex marriage, but unless they are currently monogamous, depression caused by outside influences in this case would be mostly vicarious (and probable proof of innate tendency to depression. I'm not sure if straight supporters of gay marriage rights have higher rates of depression). Sodomy laws have been gone long enough that true societal pressure on promiscuity is no longer actively in force. This also doesn't apply to me and my experience.

The last potential for outside causes isn't really discussed in the gay community, or in most scientific literature... because it's religious. I've found, in my own life, that I have an internal sense of right and wrong - above and beyond what society, my family, my Church, or anyone else tells me. In the Church we call it the Light of Christ - it's the gift given to Adam and Eve when they ate of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Every human on the earth is born with this gift, which resonates with the good and bad things in their lives. When they do good, they feel good. When they do evil, they feel guilt. While it's possible to quench the feelings of guilt (called searing the conscience in scripture), it still has an impact - and my personal experience and my experience helping men and women has been that a life filled with guilt is definitely more depressed. When I sin, I am much more likely to fall into depression... and when I am clean, life is amazing. At least from my individual perspective, this could be a valid point in the syndemic. But it would obviously need specialized studies... and I'm not sure how you would set those up. In the meantime, I try to avoid sinning as much as possible, and I find that my depression is lessened significantly.

Wow. That was long. But that's what goes through my head anytime I see something unique in my life... something that could help me understand the life and trials I've been given. In my case, depression probably has a number of other complex interrelated causes, none of which I'll share here on (Gay) Mormon Guy. But I think that the investigation is worthwhile. Eventually, at least in my case, I'll be able to determine whether this and other factors are products of physiochemical causation... or circumstantial happenstance.

Rant: Cognitive Dissonance

I'm usually a pretty cool-blooded person. But this is one topic that sometimes makes my blood boil. Right now I'm cool since I'm totally high on workout adrenaline. But anyway. The topic is cognitive dissonance. It's when actions don't align with beliefs, or beliefs don't align with knowledge. It manifests itself with the choice between exclusive principles - only one of which is based completely in the knowledge that underlies the relevant moral values.

The easiest example of cognitive dissonance that will strike a chord with everyone is that of food choices. I believe it's important to eat healthily - a value based in research and proven by time and prayer. I also know that I am hungry right now, and that nothing could satisfy my hunger better than (insert preferred junk food here). When I break my morals, I enter the realm of cognitive dissonance. All actions are predicated on beliefs... Which means that I actually don't believe it's important to eat healthily? What do I believe? And how should that influence my behavior?

Cognitive dissonance presents me with a number of choices. Either lift my actions to align with my beliefs (repentance), lift my beliefs to align with my knowledge (conversion), or continue on attempting to live a false duality.

What makes my blood boil is the most common, fourth choice. Discount my knowledge, whether spiritual or academic, and lower my beliefs to fit my actions.

I went to a lecture once on nutrition where the professor was supposed to present a "guilt-free" diet. I went fully expecting her to outline the latest in research and encourage listeners to follow it to the T. The only way to live a guilt-free life is to live by your morals, right? 

Instead, she spoke about the process of overcoming, ignoring, and subverting guilt. She encouraged us to eat as much dessert or anything else as we wanted, and to turn off any guilt that came from inside or outside. She felt that the guilt and stress that came from eating choices was more detrimental than eating unhealthily in the first place - but that actually eating according to a healthy lifestyle and thereby reducing guilt was impractical or too hard - hence she condoned changing our internal beliefs to align with our behavior.

Her research had at least some grounds. She was able to show that people who ate without guilt had less disease than those who did not. However, her "ideal" population was French, and the control was American. Americans eat more and have more disease in the first place. Ultimately, the lecture degenerated into encouragement to eat desserts with every meal to lessen stress and reduce undue guilt... and I left very much dismayed that she actually believed what she had taught.

I think that too often people look at life and its challenges and decide that it is too hard. Too hard to live the gospel, or to do what is right. Hence, what is right must actually be different in my case. It's too hard to love my neighbor, so that commandment doesn't apply to me, or it doesn't apply to him, or I can love him even if I refuse to speak to him, right? Life is hard. It was meant to be hard. It will only get harder. But that is no excuse to shoot for less than the ideal in everything we do... to cut ourselves short, discount our knowledge, and take the easy way out just because it's easy. I don't understand why anyone would settle for less than the best. Anything else has never ended up working in my life.

I look at my life. There are a lot of things I know through revelation from God. It would be easy to ignore them and follow the normal stream of life... to let others define me and to believe something other than what I know. But it isn't worth it. The things I learn by turning to God and following Him are worth any price. Hopefully when I'm faced next with cognitive dissonance in my life, I will lift my morals to adhere to the light I have been given - conversion - and lift my actions through repentance to align.

Never Again

I've tried hundreds of things to clear my mind when temptations or thoughts come uninvited. But for some reason I can him my favorite hymn and the thoughts are still there - and refuse to go away. I try to sing one hymn and think the words of a second, and they are still there... and then I add a third hymn, which consumes all my brain power, effectively debilitating myself temporarily from doing anything, and the thoughts disappear... Until I stop singing.

That works when I can afford to stop doing everything else in life - if I'm not engaged in a conversation or driving or actually doing anything. But most of the time that doesn't apply.

I've tried reciting my patriarchal blessing, the proclamation on the family, scripture masteries, and praying for help. But I've realized that, while each of those is useful, they lack the emotional connection to rising out of my trial - they don't bring back the memory of how I felt when I made the commitment to repent. They help me look forward, but I needed something simple, repeatable, and memorable that would hold, in stark contrast, the pain of sin and the light of forgiveness... And bring both to remembrance. It was then that I found "never again."

Today, when thoughts or images or anything else comes to mind uninvited, my immediate, resounding, repeated, and silencing response is "Never again."

Never again will I be a slave.
Never again will I turn away from God.
Never again will I trade eternity, peace, and the happiness I have learned over the years for anything else.
Never again will I let Satan in my life.
Never again will I listen to temptation.
Never again will I walk down the pathways which will lead me to it.

And as I repeat the words over and over, they fill me with courage. I am a son of God. He stands at my side and watches over me... and never again will I doubt that or doubt His love, His commandments, or His involvement in my life. He is supreme, and gives me strength to move forward in life. 

And, with the strength and His presence comes a promise - a promise that someday I can grow strong enough to be like Moroni, or Helaman, or the people of the city of Enoch, in this life - faith so strong that the devil has no power to tempt me in any thing. And when that day comes I will be able to walk forward in the light, never looking back, ever, again.

Falling Off the Path, Wallowing in the Dust...

The last few days I haven't really been doing everything that I should, or can. I wake up early in the morning, feel like I should go to the gym so that I can start the day on the right note, and promptly fall back asleep, the covers still pulled around me. Maybe I should move my alarm clock. Since I haven't been to the gym, my listening to the scriptures has been cut as well. That one hasn't been a total failure, though - I just take my .mp3 player with me throughout the day and listen as I drive, eat, or any other time I'm alone. Like right now.

In past years I most likely would have bemoaned the fact that I fell out of the habits I had begun - and the bemoaning would make me depressed and feel awful about myself. I definitely still feel bad about not doing the things I want and should do, but for some reason don't. But recently I've realized that guilt, and feeling contrition for my own inadequacies, are tools... and nothing more. The Lord gave me the ability to discern between right and wrong, and the Holy Ghost to enable me to chart a new course so that I can change, not so that I obsess vainly. Fretting or obsessing about my inadequacies just makes me feel inadequate, and sometimes the depression that results prevents me from actually changing.

So this morning I woke up early, felt like falling back asleep, and then prayed for help. Somehow, God helped me and I mustered the strength/faith/willpower and got out of bed. I went to the gym, worked out, listened to the scriptures, and wrote this post, and it's before 8:00. The rest of the day is open before me and I feel great. And like that, I'm back on the path. Today's gonna be good.

Rise Up, and Run

Be of good courage, for thy sins are forgiven thee... That thou mayest know that the Son of Man hath power to forgive sins, rise, take up thy bed, and walk.

I can tell when the worst temptations are about to hit. It starts with a feeling of unease, followed by something that is between a mix of incredible stress and depression. It hits when I'm alone, with nothing planned and no one around to save me. And at that point, I realize that I have a choice. Stay alone, do nothing, and let it hit me full force and probably carry me way beyond where I want to go (and set off at least a week of depression as I try to regain my feet again), or rise and run away as fast as I can. I don't always run... even though I know I should, and that is what concerns me. The Lord warns me. I know when life is going to get hard and the trials begin to overwhelm me. And yet, sometimes, I don't listen. And I fall on my face, only a few steps from the last time.

I'm not perfect by any means. And often that irks me... I've been blessed beyond anything I could ever dream, and yet I still haven't fully integrated the teachings of the Savior in my life. Do I not believe Him? Am I just lazy? Stupid? Falling to temptation is never worth it; the road to Heaven is steep enough without jumping off of sheer cliff faces.

I know that I'm not hopelessly lost. I still move forward every day. Most of the time, I listen when the Spirit tells me to run, and then I start running. Yes, sometimes I still fall. Flat on my face, in the mud, and the Lord holds out His hand to help me stand, just as He dis to the woman who washed His feet with her tears and the men who lay crippled by the side of the waters of Bethesda or in a home on their bed. I, too, have fallen, too many times... and I can't rise alone. His hand is outstretched... but not to take away my struggle. To help me learn to stand, with Him as my strength. To help me realize that it takes more than faith to rise up and walk...to rise up and run from temptation... more than anything I could ever do alone. Maybe that's another meaning of the promises the Lord has given in the scriptures... That as I turn to Him, He will give me the strength to run and not be weary, and walk and not faint.

Overwhelming Desire

I've tried not to think about this blog for the past few days. I didn't read emails or check comments or draft posts in my head as I went through each day. I just wanted to better understand why I'm writing here - what keeps me here when I feel like, maybe, I would be better off disappearing and never coming back... and if (Gay) Mormon Guy became a short blip in the history of the blogging world.

Part of it is for me. Getting emails from all over the world giving or asking advice helps me feel connected with the world... and helps me feel like I'm making a difference. Having to be honest here and share my deepest feelings keeps me out of trouble, too - I feel like I've had more strength to resist temptation because I don't ever want it to impact my ability to write and be honest here.

But I was sitting in Church today and one of the speakers talked about men who had experienced a change in their hearts... And thereafter became missionaries who never fell away. But that wasn't the part that hit me - it was when he spoke of Alma, after all his missions, returning home... and finding it impossible to not go out and preach the gospel. Or Nephi and Lehi, who leave government positions for the opportunity to preach to the Lamanites. Or the sons of Mosiah. Or Paul. Each of these men felt the changing grace of the Atonement of Christ, saw the blessings of living the gospel, and spent the rest of his life sharing the news with the world.

As I was sitting there, the Lord helped me realize that, at least in part, I'm somewhat like those men. I'm definitely not a prophet or a leader, but I've seen the blessings that the gospel has brought in my life. I know that the gospel blesses individuals and families, and that following its principles will bring eternal happiness... and I'll spend the rest of my life sharing that message.