Creating Space at My Table - Pt. 2
Part 2 of the 'Space At My Table Blog Series'
(Go to Part 1)
I shared Conner’s coming out story with Pete when he got home from work, and we asked some hard questions of ourselves as to why Conner would think we would “kick him to the curb.”
We learned a lot about ourselves and our ideals that day.
We continue to learn much from our son and his community of LGBTQ+ friends. Pete and I share the same thoughts, but I’ll speak from my perspective as a momma and a woman.
I have not watered down my belief in the Gospel of God’s love for humankind, (yes, every single human being) and His sacrifice of sending Jesus to cover my sin. I’ve not asked God to change His landscape or compromise His character to fit into something more palatable or easy for me. Let’s be real…I’ll never say it’s easy to ascribe to biblical principles (ever tried to forgive something ‘unforgivable’ or find joy in all circumstances when you just received a hard diagnosis?)
I don’t understand all the things of God.
I also do not have the corner on biblical knowledge. I can’t reconcile or answer intelligently about every person, theme, story, or way of God. I don’t have clean answers for war or crime or betrayal or hardship, yet the Bible is chock-full of stories with thick plots that I probably would have avoided if I were to create a perfect and beautiful storyline. Nonetheless, it’s there for purposes I may never understand. I’ve not abandoned my belief in God, or minimized my need for Him. I remain a seeker of who He is.
I have also chosen to engage with and learn from my son. I’ve chosen to listen to him, to hear his heart, to understand his perspectives. I ask questions and sincerely care about understanding who he is, which has led us through many deep and meaningful (and messy) conversations.
I have learned about ways he’s felt hurt or misunderstood by us, and by others, particularly those in the church. It’s been a deep dive, wrought with layer upon layer of painful truths that we both continue to wrestle through. I’ve learned of the ways he’s been judged and mischaracterized, which made me better understand his deeply rooted fears. (More to come on how we did not do everything well.)
I am constantly pestering God for the wisdom He promises.
James 1:5 declares that God is a generous giver of wisdom when we ask. Trust me, I need a huge dose of it so I don’t speak out of ignorance or insensitivity.
Through highs and lows, difficulties and hard conversations, Conner has learned to trust our relationship. And I have learned things I never knew, because I had never before asked. Was it because I didn’t want to know, or I wasn’t equipped to handle it? I’m still figuring that out. As I type this today, we’re planning our next counseling appointment together, because we are both still learning, growing, and seeking to understand each other. We are gaining clarity as we look at so many angles of our lives, our history, and each other.
I mean really digging deep and allowing the freedom to ask hard questions and share openly without shutting down, pointing fingers or exploding in anger. Our therapist stops us, and makes us answer questions without letting either of us off the hook with some shallow or canned response. It’s quite remarkable what we can learn from another person if we just shut up and see through their lenses once.
I can simultaneously love Jesus and love Conner and his LGBTQ+ friends.
It’s okay for Conner to love us back. Necessary for both of us, actually. In fact, the word love is a frequent flier within the text of the entire Bible, many hundreds of times, commanding everyone to love well. I don’t have to choose Jesus OR Conner. I can choose Jesus AND Conner.
Conner chooses to love us, and has chosen to believe that our love for him is real, no matter what. He knows, too, that his friends are welcome at my table. And the most awesome part is…they come! Conner has made the safety of our home known to his friends, and they’re not judgey against us, nor are they afraid to be here. If I don’t want to be judged and mischaracterized as some sort of Bible Basher, I can only guess that anyone in my home wouldn’t want to wear a label either.
Luke 15:1-7 tells the story of the religious leaders accusing Jesus of hanging out with “those people” (you know, the outcasts beneath them who weren’t worthy of godly company), yet Jesus quickly rebuked the self-righteous leaders, reminding them that every. single. person. matters, not just the ones that look, act, and think like they did. Jesus loves misfits like me, and frankly, I don’t think I’d enjoy hanging out with those judgy Pharisees.
The focus of my life is not to change my son, his friends, or any other person.
What I am responsible to be, if I ascribe to biblical principle, is the hands and feet of Jesus. I can reflect the character of the One who shapes our attitudes, our understanding and our lives. If I make myself available, (I may do it imperfectly) God will show up, and His love will reflect through me. As I choose to love others, I also choose to see them and learn from them.
Simply seeing and experiencing that kind of love can bridge the gap between any two people who see from different perspectives, and it’s in that space that we are granted influence, and so are our children. It’s the reason that I am honored when my son calls and says “Mom, I need your words.” It means that he trusts the wisdom that he knows I ask the Lord to provide. Conversely, I’ve learned many valuable lessons from my son and his friends.
Hey!
