How do I pray? Much like I talk: I ramble. Whether public or in private, within the sanctuary of my subconscious I deliver my innermost desperation to the ultimate confidant. Whether that be Him/Her/They/or It is still somewhat undecided within myself, but the basic idea that "someone is listening" provides me solace. I won't be modest: I usually find myself in tears. Lately I have been literally forced to acknowledge things I have chosen to be emotionally ignorant to. For example, my Daddy issues. Rather than being at the edges of my mind caught in cobwebs of trauma, he is a reoccurring image that stabs at painful memories and feelings of rejection. Talking to family members on "his side" through facebook lately has both made me warm with pithy comfort and hostile with a debate over how I feel about my father now (if I decide to let him keep that title).
I digress.
The real subject at hand is my religious standpoint. In the beginning, religion was a "reason" or excuse for bonding with my Grandfather. I would wake up early and help him volunteer at the nursing home his mother had attended, pushing the wheelchairs of patients into the cafeteria and serving them coffee as a service was conducted. I smiled at the atmosphere, but childishly only acknowledged it as family bonding. My grandfather filled the gap my father created when he left, and he was and still is a man I respect above all others. As I began my self-identity crisis and faced what religion really was for the first time, I admit I was standoffish. I took on an agnostic viewpoint because I found myself WANTING to possess faith, but still had my doubts. I didn't want to conform to it because I felt that if it was meant to be I would go through my own enlightenment. This way, it would be more...natural.
Add in the gay factor, and religion became about the last thing I wanted to confront. I felt fear most of all for the biggest assumption is that I would be condemned to Hell for being what I am. I went through all the stages thinking at first I could change, but quickly realized my orientation isn't a choice. Once this was confirmed within myself, I debated God almost angrily. If it was/is true that I am condemned, I found Him to be a hypocrite. How could I be unworthy of His love simply based on falling in love? Then more tears came. The complexes with rejection my father created made me realize my biggest plea towards God: I don't want to be left behind again. More importantly, I want to acknowledge Him as the one man in my life I can truly rely on. For now I remain in the dark wanting answers to my questions, but now that I have come to accept Him I hope that He will take my hand and lead me into the light one day.
I am thankful to my sister for showing me the website godmademegay.com because after reading the letter I took a very audible sigh of relief. I found wonderful truth within those words, and I feel at last worthy of being taken in His arms to heal. I am a human who will inevitably sin just as I am a young adult who will inevitably be unmotivated at times, but I will promise to make more of an effort. Rather than turning my back and childishly refusing to confront my standpoint, I will branch out and work towards genuine enlightenment. I feel almost silly for this sudden change, but more so warm with happiness as if He is smiling down at me and saying, "About time."
I suggest everyone read the letter I mentioned.
Again I am grateful, and I will press on from here.
