Ashes to Ashes

All the things that I'll never be good at

All the talents that I'll never know

All the blessings I've asked for for decades

All the masks that I put up for show

All the people I've wanted for friendship

All my sorrows and all of my pain

When all the things that I want break to millions of pieces

Only dust and the ashes remain.

From dust to dust

From ashes to ashes

I build up a palace and watch while it crashes

But there, in the stillness of nothing God calls

"Some day you'll be more than a man."

All my hopes to make sorrow forgotten

My attempts to dry away tears

My prayers every night, hoping to help share the light

The courage that comes from my fears

Then I break all the rules and reverse all the good

And my actions bring sorrow and pain

I watch the walls all fall down, pushed down by me;

Only I and the ashes remain.

From dust to dust

From ashes to ashes

I build up a palace and watch while it crashes

But there, in the stillness of nothing God calls

"Someday you'll be more than a man."

Even though I may never feel good enough

And though life may be pulling me down.

Though my trials bring angst and frustration

And I can't seem to turn them around.

Even though I may never have friendship

And when I try I'll only cause pain

I'll keep trying.

Dear Lord, give me strength to build up a palace.

Only You and the ashes remain.

Rise from the dust

Rise from the ashes

Build up a palace; even if it crashes

I do what I can do; learn what I can

Because someday, with You, I'll be more than a man.

Sometimes I try to develop friendships. I push myself out of the shell that surrounds me and actually meet people. Try to get to know them. In the beginning, it always seems like it's working. But, inevitably, I do things that push people away, and when I've broken enough unwritten social norms to make anyone run, they almost always do.

For a long time, when my friendships failed, I would sever all the rest of my relationships. The thought was that since I was unknowingly inflicting pain in one place, it was probably happening elsewhere, too. And there are lots of people who can be friends without causing chaos in someone's life. Losing me from their life would be a good thing.

And then I'd spend the next few months trying to solve all the problems I could find. Identify all the things that I had done wrong in each relationship and create rules to help me in the future. Only when I felt like I could do it... that maybe my newfound skills would overcome my weaknesses, would I try again.

I don't sever ties anymore when my world falls apart. I've learned that isn't fair to people who have invested in a relationship with me. But I still find myself wondering if it's really worth it. To them or to me. Maybe someday I'll make enough mistakes to learn to be normal. Maybe not. And even if a friendship may be beneficial today, that doesn't prevent me from destroying it tomorrow.

The only thing that keeps me going - pushes me to try - is that I still believe that I can do good. At least someday, if not yet. That I can learn to be a worthwhile friend, and be there for people who really need it. That maybe I can have my own friends someday. And, perhaps more, that every time I make mistakes, God tells me to get up and try again.

I make more mistakes than anyone I know. It's a cop-out to say that having ASD means it should matter less. Pain is pain; mistakes are mistakes. Regardless of my circumstances, I should be learning better. But I still fail. So I'm sorry - to the people I've tried to befriend, to the people I'm trying to befriend right now, to anyone who meets me in the future, to the people who will never know me but are affected by me, and to God. Hopefully you can forgive me and help me find the courage and strength to try again... and improve for tomorrow.

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.

Pushed Beyond Pain: Shootings, Suicide, Giving Up on Life

There was a school shooting today, in Newtown, Connecticut.
Kindergarteners. First graders. Teachers. 20 children gone. My youngest brothers are 7 and 10, and I have family and cousins all over the country. It could have been in any of their schools. Someone posted a tweet that talked about unopened Christmas presents, and the tears started flowing. I don't have kids of my own, but I'm a teacher. I've sat in classrooms and looked at my kids in the rows of desks or tables... and know how deep that love can be.

My heart goes out to the families, loved ones, and community members there. Losing a family member or friend is... such a personal thing that no words can really describe it. It's a mixture of pain and frustration and shattered dreams, anger and guilt and despair, all mixed into a package of overwhelming reality. What do you do? How can you get up the next morning and make sales calls? How can you fill a hole that no one else can?

There are two parts to this story. When we mourn the loss of the righteous, of the faithful, or of the innocent, we are mourning for ourselves - for our losses and our dreams, our hopes and our quiet conversations. As we come to grips with the love of God, we can know that He is taking care of them... and that through the Atonement all things will be made right.

But when we mourn those who have turned away from light, we are mourning their loss of hope and peace along with our own. And, at least in my case, the mourning feels more real.

In this case, it's the story of a 24-year-old boy who gave up on life and acted out in one last moment of pain. Somehow he believed that he could never find happiness in this life.

And I wonder.

I wonder if he had friends. People he could talk to - not just who listened to him, but helped him find his soul. Not just friends to indulge or echo his thoughts, but who pushed him to be better each passing day, no matter what.

I wonder if he had enemies. People who, from the superficial nature of their lives, were oblivious to what lay beneath the surface. People who said one thing and did another. Who told the rest of the world how much he wasn't worth... with hopes that he would hear it.

I wonder if he had someone who could walk him through his trials and thoughts. If he had someone that he could call in the middle of the night, or the middle of the day, and tell anything and everything without being turned away or accounted less loved.

I wonder who he was. What he loved to do. What happened to begin his pathway towards death. And what I, or someone else, can do to avert this type of disaster in the future.

The reality is that things like this happen far too often. Perhaps not on this scale, involving the deaths of dozens of children, but it's not hard to find less violent but still real evidences that people have been pushed beyond pain.

On a social level, people explode in anger and do things that they would never do in a rational state. Domestic violence, workplace arguments, and bitter disagreements between family or friends exist around the globe.

On a spiritual level, it's even more apparent. Some people who feel stressed spiritually - and are unable to find reconciliation within their faith - leave their beliefs behind but turn against anyone who remains. The few lasting negative responses I've had from people who learn about my life, my loves, my passions, my trials, my blog... have been almost exclusively ex-Mormons. Some lived seemingly happy lives in the gospel, and then something changed. Slowly, quickly, sometimes a bit of both. But in the end, something convinced them that if they can't find happiness in the gospel, no one can.

There's something wrong with our society. Suicide passed car crashes this year as the number 1 cause of mortality from injury in the US, and other industrialized nations are seeing similar results, even with the fact that some suicides are never recorded as suicide. The rate is climbing. Faithful people are losing their testimonies and losing the light and hope in their eyes. Families and friends are losing touch as workplaces, schools, and homes become a more sterile, "safer" place to interact. And today a 24-year-old man destroyed his own life, and the lives of children, because he was pushed beyond pain.

My hope is that I can do my part to change the world back. To help people feel loved even when they look like they don't need it... or even when they say they don't. To push people to find hope and faith in God even when it seems like He hasn't been listening... and when His followers may have said or done horrendous things in the past. And to help people work through the pain that life will inevitably bring.

All of us will be eventually be pushed up against the edge of our ability. And then we'll all be pushed beyond. That's part of mortality and the test that is life. The question then is this: What will I do when I'm pushed beyond pain? Will I turn to God? Will I draw closer to my family? Will I lift the human race? Will I reach out and serve those who need my help?

Or will I give up on life?

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.

Blessings (video)

I was listening to Pandora the other day when a song came on that I had never heard. The words struck me because they seemed to fit my life so well... in so many ways. The song is called "Blessings" by Laura Story. 

I went online to see why she had written it, and found that it came from a period of turmoil in her life while her husband battled brain cancer. Laura isn't Mormon, and even though the song suggests that perhaps God can bless us through trials, she really isn't sure if that is true... only that there is a power in trusting in the Lord during difficult times.

I decided to make a video response to her story and post it here. I've had my own conversion story... and I definitely feel that my own trials and sorrows have made me who I am today - more faithful, kinder, and a better man overall. The Lord has blessed me with blessings, talents, trials, and everything I've needed to return to Him... and I wouldn't trade that for anything.

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.

Things That Help Me With Life: Prayer

I'll be honest. Sometimes I think my life is awful. But even in the hardest, most stressful moments of life, there is always meaning, hope, and light... gifts from God to help me be happy when happiness seems impossible. There is always hope, and there is always happiness available for those who seek it. This is the first post on some of the things that help me with life and help me be happy.

Prayer

And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive (Matthew 21:22).

Having a relationship with God has been the most important thing that has helped me with life. And He helps me in every way. No matter what problems I face in life, I can pray to God, ask Him questions, and get answers to my prayers. I can tell Him my failures, and He will never love me less. I can talk about my trials, and He will do everything in His power to help me. And in my darkest hours, I can turn to Him and simply ask if He is there... and He always answers. Sometimes it's through another person, or in a feeling of peace, or in a beautiful sunset, or words spoken directly to my heart and mind... but it always comes eventually, as long as I ask in faith... and the knowledge that He cares and is involved in my life is enough to help me be happy no matter what I face.

The basics of prayer are the same for everyone, but each of us is different... and so is our relationship with God. So I thought I'd share a little about how to pray... at least, how I pray.

How to Pray:

Learning how to pray comes from understanding Who I am addressing. Just as I speak to a professional colleague differently than a neighbor, I pray to God differently than I speak to anyone else. Who is He? He's my Father... He loves me more than I could ever imagine... Will always listen, no matter what I've done wrong... And He wants nothing more than to help me with life and help me be happy.

Most of my prayers are part of everyday life. I see something beautiful and call upon God silently, thanking Him for the blessing I've seen. I see someone in need, and after I've done all I can, I silently ask Him to grant blessings I can't give myself. I find myself up against a challenge, and look to Heaven, asking for help to succeed. I hit all the stoplights green and give thanks that I wasn't late to my meeting. And then, each morning and night... and many times between, I close my eyes and simply talk with Him. I share what happened that day, the frustrations I've felt, the successes I've seen and ask for blessings on the people I've met. I ask Him to help me be happy - to help me with life and all of its trials. The Primary song that teaches children how to pray gives a decent outline:

"I begin by saying, 'Dear Heavenly Father,' then thank Him for blessings He sends. Then humbly I ask Him for things that I need, 'In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.'"

But I think that prayer is a lot more than just following the pattern... It comes with practice. I know it did for me. For me, prayer isn't a telephone call to Heaven. It's part of an always-on communication... where I'm checking in with God constantly... far more often than I check Facebook or my email account. Sometimes I actually voice my prayers, but throughout the day I feel like it's a continual conversation - a back and forth on what is happening (and what I should be doing) in life. And, in return for praying, the Lord gives me hope, happiness, and peace each day.

My Dream

Dream.
Sleeping wish
To waking thought,
Then a goal of faith.
Life grows brighter
Work grows wings
Hopes move
From
Night to day.
When work is done
Though it is or not,
Dream another.
Dream.


Since I was little, I've had a dream. I've dreamt of falling in love with a girl and having a family of my own. Every wish I've made on the stars, every silent hope as I blow out birthday candles, every New Years resolution, and most of my prayers echo that dream. It guides my choices in life and pushes me to act each day.

I used to pray that God would help me find my wife (soon). But I've realized that prayer wasn't really the best way to fulfill my dream. Finding my wife wasn't something that could come true each day. It would happen once, and then I'd stop praying for it. And praying for it each day sometimes made me think that it was completely in His hands - and that I had nothing more to change or do. Honestly, I have no idea when it will happen... but as long as I'm doing my part, the timing for this part of my life will work out.

So the prayer I pray now, and the wish I make on stars, is this: Help me become the man I need to be today... so that I can be a better father, husband, teacher, and friend when that time comes. It's something I can work towards for the rest of my life. That dream fills the dual roles of helping me focus on and prepare for marriage, and also improve my talents and faith to fill the roles the Lord has in store for me today. It pushes me to write, to read, to work, and to grow. To exercise, to eat better, to engage in meaningful conversation and share the love I have with the world.

I should always have a dream that guides life. A righteous dream full of hope, life, love, and happiness. A reason to wake up each morning and work through the day, a hope that abides in the darkest hours of trial and tribulation, and a guiding force to making goals and changing human nature for the better.

There have been times in my life that I've looked up at the sky and wondered if I should let my dreams die. If I'm never going to be good enough, or if perhaps I chose the wrong dream to begin with. But I've realized that, even if my dream doesn't come true in this life (and I believe it will), having that dream is still worthwhile. It makes me a better man, more kind, forgiving, loving, and willing to change. It opens my heart to helping others fulfill their righteous dreams.

And if, after all is said and done, whether the dream is or is not come true, it was still worth it for the dreaming. The work, the life, the people are still changed forever. And then I can dream another dream.

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.

My Trials Are No Different

I used to think that living with homosexuality was the worst possible trial that God could give someone. Level one trials were like having a bad day at work. Level two trials were like having a bad job in the first place. Level three, breaking up with a girlfriend. And so on, up and up the ladder of my brain until you reach the pinnacle of mortal trials.

I would have traded my life with anyone, because I honestly thought that I had the worst life in the world. Any trial would have been better. Cancer? At best, you live and are cancer-free. At worst, you die early or live a long, drawn out, painful life. Starvation? Same story. Abject poverty? More of the same. But nothing compared with my life. In my mind, no one could really understand or empathize because, in my mind, their trials were mundane.

And they had so much more help. Support groups, foundations, scholarships, 5K races, public service announcements, government programs, Church programs, charities, and a network of people who have been where they had been and could answer their questions. Name a problem, and there was a system put in place to help people overcome it, or at least find hope.

I had nothing, and my trial seemed impossible where nothing else was.

But I was wrong.

The realization came slowly, as I began to find meaning in my life and learned how I fit in God's Plan. Taken as a whole, my set of trials was different - as every trial is. But taken apart, I saw how the feelings and "micro-trials" I faced each day really weren't all that different from people all over the world.

When I feel confused about my place in God's Plan, I join millions of people looking for truth and seeking God's direction in their lives. When I feel frustration with dating, part of that frustration mirrors that felt by every other young single adult in the Church. When my mind wanders, I exercise the same willpower needed to overcome addictions. The hopelessness from fearing I'll never get married matches, in part, that felt by singles everywhere, but even more closely, those with severe physical or mental disabilities... and the same comparison happens with depression, needs in friendships, trouble understanding doctrinal applications, choosing direction in life... and every micro-trial that makes up same-sex attraction.

Every trial in life, in fact, is made up of micro-trials. I looked at everything the people around me were facing, and saw easily how decomposing their difficulties into the smallest pieces suddenly meant that I could relate to them... and that gave incredible meaning to the scripture I had read in Corinthians but never really believed.

13 There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it. (1 Corinthians 10:13)

I had never believed it because I didn't understand what God meant. He didn't mean that someone else in the world was experiencing the exact same set of major trials that I was. My life, and its trials, were probably unique. But if I looked closely enough, I could find people everywhere who had individually lived, suffered, and overcome the micro-trials that composed my life...

And with that realization came another: my trials had been specifically chosen for me. God had a clean slate to send me into mortality. He could have sent me here with anything. But He didn't. He didn't send me with cancer or to struggle with alcoholism. He didn't send me to Africa or the Middle Ages. He created my life perfectly with the trials and blessings and talents and gifts that I needed to return to Him. And for that I am grateful.

I used to believe that my trials were impossible to understand. That no one could relate or give me useful advice. But the Lord taught that, looking closely at life, there hath no temptation [or micro-trial] taketh you but such as is common to man. Every temptation and trial can be overcome.

My trials are no different.

To Be (Gay) Or Not To Be (Happy)... That's The Wrong Question.

Wherefore, the Lord God gave unto man that he should act for himself. Wherefore, man could not act for himself save it should be that he was enticed by the one or the other. (Book of Mormon, 2 Nephi, Chapter 2)

The enticement that Lehi described is a curious thing. Sometimes, before we are in the midst of trial, it's easy to just think, "Well, choose the right when a choice is placed before you," but the reality is that, with many choices, both sides have valid arguments. And choosing the right then means being able to see through the mist of darkness and know the will of God. Otherwise making choices would be easy.

Same-sex attraction is no exception. Following are two comments I recently received; I post them here because they represent, in my mind, two of the common thought processes surrounding same-gender attraction... and two of the ideologies that I see perpetuated in others.

First Comment:

Hmm, while you are living your life celibate and doing everything in your power to control your same sex attractions that you weren't apparently born with, I will be spending my life with a man that I love and enjoying what life has to offer while still believing in God. A different God I might add. I feel sorry for you that you think you are doing the right thing and remaining celibate and faithful to church. There is so much more to life, and if you honestly believe that these homosexual thoughts and feelings are immoral and wrong, you my friend are in for a life of loneliness. Sure you'll have your friends, your familys, those that support you, etc. BUT, you know why they support you and remain around you? Because you chose to stay within the church, but just for that reason. Do you think those same people would really give you the same love and friendship if you chose to be an acting homosexual? No. I wish you could just see the bigger picture. And you know what? You can say the exact same things to me and thats just it...Theres nothing I can really say that you can't turn back around. I will leave you with this, you're not a bad person for chosing to embrace your the gay life-style per say being with a man. Everyone deserves to be with someone they are IN love with. It's how life was designed. If God put you on this earth to go through feeling what you do know to be rewarded in the after-life or to overcome these tempations and reign forever, you're mistaken. Getting married to a woman, fasting, praying, therapy, none of that will work in the case of being made whole and getting married. Take a stepouside of the box and see what happens.

Second Comment:

I find that you are a bit off base here. I really respect you for choosing your own path in life... but the situation you write about with the women talking about how they don't want to marry a gay man is real. I have lived it first hand. Trust me that what these women (and all women, especially in the church) are saying here, is not that they think less of you because you are gay, but that they know that deep down you could not make the connection THEY need. 

Love is a two way street, and both ends have to have interest and physical chemistry. Don't overlook sexual attraction in defining love, it's the cornerstone. 

I tried to live a life you are seeking. I got married to a wonderful woman that loved me back, we had so much in common, lived the gospel, tried EVERYTHING, and it didn't work. Deep down, a gay man is a gay man, doesn't matter how hard he tries to not act on those "feelings", it is who you are. And a women can tell, a women needs to see you desire her in your eyes and touch, if not it will feel fake and empty to her, like going through the motions.

Just don't shut out the arguments from "the other side", we're not all out to get you. I truly hope you can find peace with who you are someday, and know that you are loved for you.

The truth of the matter is that both of these experiences are real. Both men wrote to me with the hope that they could influence me to avoid pain that they themselves felt, and find peace that they've found. 

On the one hand, I could be like the first commenter - fall in love with a guy, choose to believe that is the will of God (a different God), and in that belief find pleasure in life, meaning, reconciliation, and companionship. Men have found that.

On the other hand, I could be like the second commenter, and try to do everything right, try to stay strong in the Church, and still fail - even after marriage - and experience extreme heartache and disaster, ripping apart families and leaving chaos in its wake. It happened to him.

Be gay, or be unhappy.

And, in the minds of many of the men I've met, those are the only two options. Stay completely and fully faithful in the Church and be miserable and full of self-loathing, or appeal to "spirituality," claim that the Church isn't true (or at least its teaching on homosexuality), and live an open, self-loving, and free life.

Faced with only those two choices, it's not striking why many men choose to trade the Church's stringent and clear teachings on chastity, faith, and perseverance for something else. 

I found myself choosing between those two choices just a few years ago.

I was doing everything right. I had gone to Seminary, learned my scripture masteries, served a faithful mission, and done everything according to the plan. I read my scriptures, paid my tithing, attended the temple, prayed, and I thought that was enough. So when life gave me only pain and sorrow, I found myself forced to choose between two options. Either the gospel and the Church doesn't really have the power to bring me happiness (and I should choose to follow commenter 1), or I'm simply not good enough and even if I try, I will fail (and my life will be like commenter 2). 

I turned to God for help, and realized that there is a third choice - one that promises far more than any other, but entails a whole lot more work and time as well. In my darkest hours, I learned that if the gospel is not working for me, it is because I'm not using it right - not because I'm not good enough or because God or His teachings are incapable of bringing me peace.

The reality is that Christ came to save all men, and that God has given all men the power to overcome their trials and find true happiness, joy, and peace through living according to His will.

But what does that mean? For me, it meant that I was going to need a whole lot more than 100 memorized scripture masteries and some cliche phrases from the mission. I was going to need much more faith than I was getting from my prayers, and far more guidance than what I was finding in the scriptures. And that makes sense. The Lord gives each of us, if we are righteous, Abrahamic trials - obstacles so massive that they require us to rise to the same level of faith that Abraham did. And he definitely didn't just have two years of mission experience and call it good.

And I'll be honest. For years, I saw only pain in my future. I knew that I was doing the right thing, but nothing seemed to work.

And I don't know exactly when it happened, or when the process began... but my frustration and despair slowly turned into perspective and faith... and today, I can truthfully say that I live a happy life. Yes, I'm nowhere near perfect. But I can see the light shining, and it is finally reflecting in my soul. And I have everything I could want. Fully a part of the Church, fully acceptant of who I am and what faces me here in life, and fully in control of what happens in my life. Life is amazing... and I wouldn't change anything, except to keep going.

Would I love to be married and have a family? Definitely! My goal is to fall in love with a woman, be physically attracted to her (read that last statement again - some people seem to not get it: be physically attracted to her), get married in the temple, raise a family, and work together to make our home and lives a part of heaven on earth. But I've met so many people and had so many experiences that I wouldn't have had if I were married. Maybe there's more that the Lord wants me to do. And in the meantime, the Lord is able to fill my needs - He is omnipotent, after all. It just took me a while to really believe it and learn how to benefit from that power.

So that's the decision I face. Work harder than I ever have, rely on God's grace, and determine how to use the Lord's omnipotent power to bring about happiness and salvation... or give up on reconciling Church standards with my attractions... or try really hard and give up when, after 10, 20, 40 years later, I feel like I'm still failing.

The beautiful promise of the gospel is that no matter who I am, there is a way to make it work for me. The gospel works. If it's not working for me, I'm not using it right. For everyone that seeketh shall find, and unto him that knocketh, it shall be opened. The Lord God is no respecter of persons, which means that if His gospel can bring peace, hope, and joy to anyone who learns to use it in their lives, it can bring those same blessings to me.

And that's the option I choose.

Shhhhhh...

I think too much. I'm not sure if that's a trait shared by other guys with same-sex attraction, or if it's just me, but I definitely think too much. I find myself poring over my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, and my fears, and fabricating complex rationales for most of the things I believe. I'm not happy with just experiencing life - I have to understand every facet of life that I can see.

Sometimes my tendency to meditate on everything comes in handy. When I need to create a project, I can manufacture elaborate plans, come up with dozens of alternatives, and see potential pitfalls before they happen. When I am thinking about people who I care about, they fill my every waking moment - something that was great at reminding me of my purpose as a missionary.

But sometimes it isn't ideal. Take, for example, the amount of stress that dating causes me. Most people would say to just go with the flow; instead, I find myself analyzing every move before I make it, and trying to determine its impact after it's made. It affects my spirituality when I obsess over my weaknesses, and consumes me when I need to change something in my life... blowing them out of proportion and, effectively, making them a much larger part of my consciousness than they were in the first place.

I found myself thinking too much over the last few days. And then I remembered an experience from my mission. I was in Church, wondering how I was going to deal with a major problem, and it was time for the Sacrament. The prayer was said, and my mind continued to race... and then I had the thought, "Mormon Guy, you should be thinking about the Sacrament. Shhhhhhh... be quiet. Be calm. Be still and know that I am God." So I closed my eyes, calmed my racing thoughts, and, almost immediately, a bolt of clarity showed me what I needed to do. I was so engaged in worrying about the problem that I wasn't open to the Spirit and His direction in my life.

The times that I've taken time to pull myself away from the world have always been positive. I've learned about who I am, what I want to accomplish, and I understand how to better apply the gospel in my life to find happiness and joy. It's like the feeling I get in the Celestial Room of the temple - peace, understanding, perspective, and hope. For a moment, everything is right in the world.

I think that taking time to think (without falling asleep) and ponder is important. But taking time to rest - and just listen, without engaging the constant deluge of thoughts and stimuli, is just as important. I, of all people, need to remember this in my life. To take time to be holy, to stop and listen, to disengage from the insanity of life to breathe. And as I do, I'm better able to hear the Lord and follow His promptings.

Shhhhhh...

Even though it be a cross that raiseth me

I was just playing the piano and listening to the words of hymns in my mind, and the last one I played was "Nearer, My God, to Thee." For a long time I've known that all of the things the Lord gave me - same-sex attraction included - were gifts to help me somehow return to Him. But the music of this hymn, seems to break through the simple words I've used before and speak volumes to my heart.

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me.
Still all my song shall be nearer my, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
Darkness be over me, my rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'd be nearer, my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

There let the way appear, steps unto heav'n;
All that Thou sendest me, in mercy giv'n;
Angels to beckon me nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Then with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

The Lord knows my heart, and He knows me as His son. He loves me, and because He does, He gives me everything I need to be happy and to come closer - nearer - to Him. The cross that lifts me is my own. I have been given trials and tribulations - steps unto Heaven, given by God through His mercy and love - intended specifically for me... and with the one express purpose of lifting me from the mundane world of mortality and raising me up to happiness, joy, love, and eternal life. With that in mind, I can look at my life, my circumstances, and who I am inside... and turn to follow God and become nearer to Him. And as I do, everything will work out.

Or if on bended wing, cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upwards I fly,
Still all my songs shall be nearer, my God, to Thee.
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

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.

When Faith Endures

A friend asked me how my dating life is going. That question always leaves me smiling - if only because it usually means the asker hasn't been on a date in two weeks and wants advice. Inside, it leaves me smiling because, while my dating life definitely isn't going anywhere soon, it gives the Lord a chance to remind me that someday, I'll be the person I need to be, and somehow find and fall in love with a girl. And, in the meantime, dating serves as an opportunity to make friends and do missionary work, send girls on missions, help them identify traits to look for in husbands...

Sometimes dating, or even survival, seems like it's far too hard to deal with in life. But then I realize that, while my life may be hard, I have the gospel. I have God at my side. I have the power of the priesthood and temple ordinances and family and prophets and scriptures and Primary songs that play in my head at night. I have generations of ancestors who prayed for blessings for their posterity, from Abraham down through today... and, most of all, I have the promise that, if I just keep moving forward, I will make it. It will be enough. I will find true love and happiness and fulfil the plan that God created for me. And all I have to do, today, is live today. And then, when tomorrow comes, I'll turn to God and ask for strength to live tomorrow.

I think that is what the Lord was trying to teach the Israelites when He sent manna in the desert. If I look at the desert of life, standing before me, and try to imagine living endless eternity with the strength I currently have (alone, without many friends, and living with same-sex attraction) it will only lead to fear and depression and a sick feeling in my stomach... But if I look at just today, I have enough strength to live and grow and thrive. And I can have the faith to believe that He will be there for me tomorrow. When the Israelites looked at the desert sands, their fear of the future overwhelmed their faith. They didn't believe that God would do another miracle... and that lack of faith left only crawling worms and a sick feeling in their stomachs.

The strength the Lord gives me today, is for today. I can use it all and it will be enough. And then the true choice, a choice that I and everyone make each and every day, is whether I will have the faith through the night and into the storm that He will be there again at my side... that He has never left me at all... to send peace and hope and strength from Heaven in the moment that I need it.

Suicide

It began in passing. I had dropped in to see a friend who was attending a performance, and the musician on stage began to play his guitar and sing. The melody was catchy, but the words cut to the core, speaking of leaving family, friends, life, problems, and pain behind... and encouraging onlookers to not judge for what they couldn't see. The words drew tears for me, thinking about people I knew and memories of my own life... I looked around at the audience members and wondered how many of them really understood what he was singing about - how many really understood how fragile life can be, even in someone who seems to have everything put together? Did they really understand? The performance met with rousing applause, when I would have given silence instead. That was my answer. And that began the first of my recent recollections on life and death.

It happened again in music, again a song I hadn't heard before, sung by an acquaintance onstage. And again the lyrics echoed pain and sorrow, suffering and frustration. She belted it, and inside I realized that, to her, the song was just a song. Music with a catchy beat and rhyming words, not a glimpse into the reality that stalks people who stand by us today and may not tomorrow.

The topic showed up in the news, was mentioned in conversations, and became a sudden centerpiece for discussions as people talked with me. It's not something I almost ever talk about... but it came up, over, and over, and over again. And so it's my topic now... and hopefully it will help someone here.

I used to want to die. For years I wanted to die. I felt alone, outcast, depressed, isolated, different, friendless, worthless, cursed, evil... and I felt like I had nothing good to offer the world. I believed, honestly, that while some people might have cared about me, they would truly be better off without me in their lives. They only cared because they cared about everyone... or because they had to... and if they really knew the true me, complete with sin and addiction and imperfections, even they would turn away.

Taking my own life was never an option, because I knew that it was wrong, it would devastate my family, and it would have eternal consequences (I think that was one of the most vital things I learned in Primary - suicide is a major sin that will keep you from salvation. That knowledge kept me alive. Really.). So I would curl up in a ball and cry and pray that somehow I wouldn't have to wake up in the morning and face the world again. I spent many nights simply crying for that... but it obviously never happened.

No one knew. Not my parents, or the people at school, or the people at Church, or even the people who tried to be closest to me. On the outside, I was perfect. Perfect in everything, happy, a shining example of whatever it was you needed an example for. But inside I was a wreck.

The only solace I ever found was in my personal relationship with God... but even that took time to develop, time to encourage, time to truly understand. Late at night, when the world was falling in on me and nothing could lift my hopes, I learned to turn to God and pour out my tears to Him... and He listened.

The Lord never came to me in person to dry my tears. He didn't send angels from Heaven. But every time I turned to Him and asked to know if He loved me, He found a way to tell me that He did. Sometimes it was in the wind, sometimes in the rain. Sometimes in the sun, or the clouds, or the scriptures, or a talk in Church or a message from someone in my life. No matter what has happened, I have always known that God loves me... and, for me, that makes living my life worthwhile. God loves me. He created me, and gave me everything I can't control to learn to be happy and grow to become the man He sees in me. And with Him at my side, I can do anything.

Today, suicide is still not an option. But it tugs at the back of my mind when days are dark and I wonder if I'm doing anything worthwhile, or if I'm ruining the Plan Father has for me.

To all of you who understand - who have felt pain and sorrow so intense that it seems better to give up - I share my love... and I say that you are important in the eyes of God and the eyes of the people in your life. You're important because once you smiled at the bus driver and it helped him to have a better day. You're important because you live by morals that others watch, silently and in the shadows, and because your example inspires them to change the world. You're important because people care about you, pray for you, think about you, and want you to be a greater part of their lives. And you're important because you have a story and a gift that only you have - a place in God's Plan to save His children and bring them happiness that no one else can ever fill... and that comes from your life, your struggles, your faith, your falterings, and your relationship with God. You are amazing, and you are a literal spirit child of the God of the Universe. He did not send you here to fail... which means that, no matter what has happened, He stands at your side, ready to help you move forward and find the hope and peace and happiness you need.

Hope is shining brightly on a cold November night
The moon is gone, the stars are dark, and yet there still is light
Because beneath the wind and through my pain a whisper sounds...
"My Son, I love you. And it will be alright."



A talk by Elder Ballard: Suicide: Some things we know, and some things we do not know.

Epic Fails in Friendship

For most of my life, I believed I could do anything I wanted, well. So did others... and experience supported that belief. Now I realize how incredibly wrong I was.

I may be good at athletics, academics, music, or internalizing church doctrine. But in the things that really matter - developing long-term meaningful relationships with others - my track record is a long list of failures.

Ability to make and keep friends from elementary school? Fail. Friends from any other school? Fail. Friends from work? Fail. Friends from the mission? Fail. Friends from past wards? Fail. Friends among extended family members? Fail. Friends in the dating world? Fail. And friends as part of a physical support group - people I can turn to when I'm having a rough day? Epic fail.

I honestly think that this - my inability to develop meaningful lasting friendships - played a role in exacerbating same-sex attraction... and that seems to hold true with some of the things I've discussed with other guys who are moving forward - as they are able to develop more meaningful non-sexual relationships with men and women, living with same-sex attraction gets at least a little easier. I'm not sure if it's because friends create a social network and support system, or if there are emotional needs that are met through friendships that, unmet, masquerade as SSA. I don't know because, despite my attempts, it never happens. Something about me destroys relationships with a perfect certainty... and that knowledge probably only further accelerates the process.

Take a recent example - I had a guy I was helping to come back to Church, change his life, and learn to be happy. He didn't have SSA. We spent a ton of time together, and over the course of a few months he was able to change. But as soon as that change happened, life pulled us apart and I haven't had a conversation with him since. I invited him to half a dozen different things, but as the relationship atrophies I feel powerless to stop it, and it doesn't seem like he has any interest in knowing me anymore... so I drop it and move on. And that's the story of my life. Meet people - men and women - feel a desire to be involved in their lives and a desire to be accepted by them... if I get close to them, they usually have massive, painful, life-changing experiences... and then they disappear.

The end result is that I've never had a group of friends to go do stuff with, or even one friend that stayed on for the ride. When I want to go running, it's always alone, even though I know a hundred people who love to run. They just would rather not run than have me running with them. I know - I've tried. When I go hiking or biking, or attend the temple, or go to a museum, or do almost anything, it's alone... I have short-term friends, for a few weeks or sometimes even months, but each of them eventually disappears or consciously walks away. They each had logical and plausible reasons for not pursuing the friendship... and I can't blame them.

Sometimes I wonder about the irony of pulling both the same-sex attraction card (which means I have a rough time with romantic relationships) and the difficulty-making-friends card (which means I have a rough time with non-romantic relationships). The end result is that I have a rough time with all informal relationships - everything that doesn't involve structured roles like student-teacher or mentor-mentee. I'm grateful that being alone taught me to turn to God, but sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to overcome it and be able to rely on people in my life. Right now, I look at relationships as opportunities to help other people. I walk into every environment with the question, "How can I help this person come closer to Christ?" But at the same time, I expect it to end when they're done with me. I'm never someone's only or best friend, even if they're mine... and eventually that friendship will disappear - sometimes suddenly - in the course of 5 seconds - and sometimes over weeks. But none of them last, and inside I don't believe they will, simply because they never have.

Wow. This post was longer than I intended. And probably more depressing to people on the outside. This isn't a sob story or an account intended to engender pity or emotional grief. It's just a thought from my mind, and maybe it will help put into perspective some of the choices I make. Everything I do is based on the precept that I'm going to be alone for a long time - surrounded by friends in the short term, but constantly breaking ties and having to make new ones. From experience I've realized that no relationship can ever thrive longer than a few months, then my investment in people has to be front-loaded, and I'm far more willing to do things that will help them in the beginning, even if it jeopardizes the relationship we have. That's a good summary of how it works in my mind. And changing this has proved far more difficult than any temptation with same-sex attraction.

LDS Temple Marriages

Mormon weddings are amazing. The wedding party is small - usually just close family and a few friends - and the ceremony itself is only a few minutes long. And in those few minutes, a boy and girl go from best friends to eternal companions.

Sealing ceremonies, for me, have always been a bit bittersweet. They're incredibly happy, but for a long time I wasn't. I thought that I was. At the reception, I smiled, helped, and gave my own personal congratulations, but inside it was all I could do to keep from crying. And on the drive or flight home, I usually did.

I realize now that the root of my pain was fear. Fear that happiness would never really find me, fear of the unknown future, fear that I had done something to deny me of blessings eternally. But all the fears surrounded one - fear that God wouldn't fulfill His promise to me, and to all His children, to grant me every blessing if I am faithful.

I knew the gospel, and I could recite the promises by heart. And, to the outside world, I lived by its every teaching. But I didn't believe it. I hadn't been willing to trade my fear for faith... and because of that, the gospel didn't work for me. It didn't bring me happiness.

Weddings are still bittersweet. They still highlight the greatest blessings of the gospel, and by so doing, highlight the fact that I'm not married... and that I'm not even attracted to girls in the first place. But instead of making me believe it will never happen, or that happiness is conditional upon fulfillment of my own desires, temple weddings now highlight the miracles that God does in everyone's lives. In every story of husband and wife, there are miracles - proof that God is in details. He's promised that if I'm faithful (and do absolutely everything in my power), those same miracles will happen in my life.

So now I smile, give my congratulations, and then go home and give thanks. I'm just waiting for my turn.

We're Not Alone

For most of my life I honestly believed that no one in the world understood me. When we talked about temptations that people have in Sunday School, being attracted to guys was definitely not one of them. And while there are stories in the scriptures of men who repented of adultery, murder, and tons of other sins, the scriptures never share that type of story about men like me. At the same time, the population of anti/ex-Mormon gay voices is becoming more predominant... and the message they share is usually very clear: the Church was not a hospitable place for us.

Together, those circumstances made me think I couldn't exist... or at least that my ideal self - being happy, fulfilled, and faithful - would be impossible. That living an active life in the Church would incur huge amounts of pain - or at the least, would require me to "deny who I was" and "live without love" for the rest of mortality.

But I was wrong.

One of my key flaws was thinking I was alone in the fight - like President Monson in his story about boot camp in the Navy, I thought that I would have to stand alone - me against the world and every statistic that claims happiness isn't possible. But, like in the story shared in General Conference, as I made my stand I realized that there were men right behind me who felt the same. Men who knew who I was, and who had walked in similar paths.

Today I look around and see the shroud of hidden darkness beginning to disappear. Film studies about men who are faithful and LDS. Books written and published by Deseret Book. Useful and relevant topical research guides on homosexuality at LDS.org. And a commmunication network that unites us all in brotherhood.

The truth is, there has always been Someone who understood me - God Himself. And when I wondered if life was even worth trying to live, He knew what it was like. Christ suffered all things - including my struggles, like feeling alone with SSA in the Church... and because of that, He is always at our side. He understands us and wants us to grow, keep the commandments, and find happiness and peace in doing what is right - becoming like Him. He will never abandon us. And because of that, we are never alone.