I’m fired up tonight and taking it out on my keyboard.

If you are anything like me the pressure builds and reaches a point that unless the release valve is pressed (my keyboard I suppose), I think I’ll explode.

Often times I’ll meet with people who move me deeply, stir within me such a deep compassion, a holy fire, that I am left with this feeling that consumes me tonight. Today was one of those days. It’s not that I need to type, rather I must.

Sex.

There I said it. The three letter word that is worthy of more prominence than the mere three letters it contains. Think about it, it can mean so much. Beauty, passion, intimacy for some. Shame, fear, aversion for others. In reality, a mixture of the two for many.

My encounter today was more about this thing we call sexual identity than that three letter word itself. I met with a friend in the midst of a great struggle. His pain, the pain of those around him, my own pain I suppose was overwhelming. He has spent years hiding an important part of himself and is now, for the first time, speaking truth.

So incredibly beautiful, torturous, yet beautiful.

I wrestle with what my traditional Christian community has presented in dialogue concerning being gay. I wrestle with what the emerging church has presented in dialogue concerning being gay.

Neither which I identify with.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand the vantage point of each. Traditional (whatever that means) church sets forth an apologetic to those who identify as gay, dictating even without words that there needs to be a denial of self, a hiding (more shame), a “we love you and accept you, but”….a scarlet letter. The emerging church, redefining biblical theology, somehow “all these years we’ve not understood the original language, culture, and context.”

Even as I write this, it bores me. I know both dialogues so well and I don’t fit into either box.

The problem is that neither bride reflects her groom. At least not the groom I know.

Within these dialogues there seems to be only the two choices of self-denial or the embracing of a lifestyle.

For me, there seems to be a third dialogue.

You see, I’m speaking to those who find embracing a gay lifestyle in conflict with their faith in God or with the commitments they have made. To all others who don’t have this conflict, this is not for you.

That’s ok with me.

But, to those who are weary from hiding and denying, who long for a different alternative than those given by our culture. To those who are compelled to embrace the reality of their sexual attractions as they walk in faith or they too, like me with my keyboard, might explode. This is for you.

To my friend today, to you who might find some connection in my words. This is for you.

God loves you. Not in the Sunday School way. No. He loves you. He longs for you. He pines for you. He has been, is, will forever be relentlessly pursuing you. You. Broken you. Good you. Bad you. Hiding you. You.

Nothing else matters but this. You are the only one.

This world that we live in is not what He intended. Everything has been tainted. Sin. Not the Sunday School sin that you were taught. Not the sin where the people who don’t go to church and follow the rules live. I’m talking about an everybody “fog”. This fog we all live in where we can’t see God, His plan, His love clearly anymore sin.

Everything is tainted.

This everything includes everything. Including your sexual attractions, my sexual attractions. The thing is, in my experience we are all trying to get out of this fog. Everyone of us. Reaching for a feeling, a whisper, a longing to be what we were created to be, before the fog. My favorite ragamuffin put it this way,

“In one way or another every human is crying out, or acting out, or, at great cost, stifling his need to be known, accepted, forgiven, and healed.” Beuchner.

Known. Accepted. Forgiven. Healed. By others, by God, and by ourselves. A lot of fog.

I am so sorry that you have to carry this pain, torturous pain, lonely pain. It doesn’t seem fair. I don’t know what it is like to carry this kind of pain, but I have walked with those who have. I have carried my own pain. No doubt everything within you wants to escape. With some pain we can escape. But with other pain, your pain, my pain there is no escape. It will not leave us. We must learn to carry it or throw down our cross and walk away.

I mean this in the gentlest way possible. It is, I think, the most loving thing I can say to you.

Not Sunday School loving, but Holy Spirit, real Jesus loving. The kind of loving that doesn’t leave or walk away, but loves and stays no matter what. The good you. The bad you. The broken you. The hiding You. The Jesus kind of staying.

You see, when I read this love note from Jesus, when he asks these men to follow him he doesn’t ask if they will be good, if they will do what is expected of them, if they will clean themselves up. He asks them one question that doesn’t look like a Sunday School question.

He asks them if they will carry their cross, his cross, your cross, my cross.

Only one question.

We were never taught this at church. We were taught that we needed to recite a prayer and give assent to a belief in Him. And when we decided to follow Him we only meant it in words, Sunday School words.

But, when I read this love letter I see Jesus asking a whole different question.

Can I, will I, walk the path he has set before me?

Thats it.

There’s no easy answer to this question. Don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise, like the dialogues will suppose. I think both well-meaning groups have tried to contain this Holy God so that he looks more like a man than God anymore.

You see God is indescribable. Holy. Fearful. Tender. Loving. Jealous.

He doesn’t make sense.

And we try to contain him by transforming him into something we can handle.

A God who will watch as His Son is murdered so that his other children can live. A God who can embrace us in our fog and yet be holy, requiring us to carry our pain, our cross.

This makes little sense to those who want to contain Him.

Please know, my friend, He has not singled you out, although it must feel as though He has. I’ve walked this horrible why in my own life, in the lives of those I am privileged enough to sit with. Depression that doesn’t go away, anxiety that is debilitating, schizophrenia that torments and isolates. My heart screams why. But, after my voice and soul grow hoarse from crying out I am not left with a why, but a Who.

I’m left with His cross, my cross, your cross.

You see, although this life seems like it’s a whole lot about me, that’s the Sunday School answer, the world’s answer. The love note answer is that it’s about Him.

The holy Him. The trusting Him. The sharing in his suffering, Him.

There is no clean answer in this fog. One that feels right. Even our feelings are affected by the fog. But, there is hope in the fog, healing in the fog, restoration in the fog.

I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it.

You must know that you are not alone, even though you might feel it so. I’ll walk with you as you navigate the fog. The broken you. The good you. The bad you. The hiding you. Even the Sunday School you.

Your sister (and fellow fog dweller),

Pascale