Gaining Perspective - Pt. 1
Part 1 of the 'A Mile In My Shoes' Blog Series
Would you be willing, for a moment, to step into the shoes of a young person with me?
Let’s walk together with the goal of gaining a valuable—might I even say necessary—perspective. Imagine for just a moment what it might be like to live a day in someone else’s shoes. Let’s envision that this young person is your child.
Imagine: I’m fourteen years old, raised with a Christian worldview, immersed in a biblical culture. I attend church every Sunday and youth group every Tuesday night. I do semi-regular devotions and journal my thoughts in a random notebook. I try hard to be a good kid and don’t ruffle too many feathers. I have plenty of admirable qualities, yet there’s this one peculiar thing I can’t quite figure out.
In the throes of the already confusing years of puberty and physical maturity, I’m working hard to navigate the perplexities of friendships, grades, family, faith, and all the other things a teenage mind attempts to process. My friends are taking note of that girl or that guy of the opposite sex, fueling their attractions with flirtatious nonsense. I can’t relate because I’m a guy, and I notice the developing muscles of another teenage boy. I’m a girl, and I think that brunette in my math class is beautiful, in a way that’s beyond simply noticing “she’s pretty.” I feel a strange attraction to my own gender, but I bury the unwelcome thought.
I brush my feelings off, dismissing them as unreliable because so much of my world feels that way when I’m a teen. Also, because same-sex attraction, I’ve been taught, is undeniably wrong. Certainly, it’s abnormal and immoral; so much so that I become afraid of my own emotions.
Jeremiah 29:11 circulates my mind: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
God must have this, but I’m still so confused.
“That’s disgusting,” I may have been told.
“I’d die if my kid was gay,” I hear a father say at church, inaccurately presuming he was speaking in inaudible tones to a friend.
“Homosexuals are an abomination,” I’ve heard more than once in my life.
I fight my attraction, attempting to explain it away. I try to ignore it. I pray that God takes it away. I do everything in my power to deny my brain, my eyes, my feelings. I question whether I’m normal and wonder if I’m somehow broken. Not only is it conflicting to feel this way, but it also feels downright unfair.
I read in my Bible, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” — Psalm 139:14
I counter my feelings of brokenness with the truth that I’ve been taught. How is this wonderful? I hate everything I’m trying to figure out. Nothing makes sense.
And so begins a silent and intense internal battle, because I wonder who in the world is safe to share my feelings with. I don’t want whatever this is. I can’t make it go away…my attraction persists like a bad toothache in need of a root canal.
My parents have only ever mentioned that same-sex attraction is wrong and outside of God’s will for my life. They show me the Bible verses, which multiplies my confusion and drowns me in shame. I don’t think they mean it. Maybe they sense something about me and are equally afraid. Neither of us knows what to do, so we press harder into the words on the pages. They pray with me for the husband or wife I’ll have one day, and I secretly wonder whether my spouse will be a man or a woman…but I’d never dare say that out loud.
My sex ed classes, from the time I was in fifth grade, have only ever taught that males and females are attracted to one another to make babies and live happily ever after.
My youth group leader shuts down conversations about anything related to sexuality because it’s inappropriate to discuss such a mature topic within the walls of church with such young kids.
My pastor reinforces manhood, womanhood, and marriage from a biblical perspective. He condemns anyone who has same-sex attraction and questions the likelihood that I’m actually saved if I can’t lay down my struggles at the foot of the cross and walk in obedience. So now I believe not even Jesus loves me.
I silently wonder where the heck to turn, because from every direction, messages are screaming that my attraction is immoral, that I’m a freak for feeling the way I do, and my illicit thoughts are straight from the devil himself. I can’t make sense of my attractions, and literally, everyone in my world either condemns what I’m feeling or is silent on the matter; thereby, leaving me to presume I’m the abomination destined to the gutter, or worse yet, actual hell. For sure, I’ll be rejected, corrected, or disowned if my secret gets out.
So I continue to struggle… alone, and in silence.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
I wish to be comforted and reassured. Where is God? Is He near in times of deep emotional pain and struggle? I can’t feel him.
What do I do, and where do I turn?
Hey!
