This is in response to this: I'm Christian, unless you're gay and the follow-up "Powerful responses to 'I'm Christian, unless you're gay'"
I wanted to mention something that hopefully will help somebody. I am a Christian, and have been from birth, I suppose. I was brought up in a Christian family and even attended private christian school from k-8. Maybe because of this or maybe in spite of it, I have always had a rather deep and intense relationship with and an immense wonder of God. In my childhood I prayed almost constantly - not necessarily constant on-my-knees supplication, but almost a running conversation with God. Sometimes it was playful remarks, sometimes it was begging in secret turmoil. As I got older I noticed that those in the Bible who actually got to speak with God or be visited by an angel were only able to do this by fasting and going through other rites. So I tried my best to duplicate these rites and I fasted and I prayed and I did not hear the voice of God, nor was I ever visited by an angel. Eventually I sort of stopped doing this, and my conversations with God became more of a somewhat occasional thing, and then a very occasional thing. I never lost faith in his existence, but I did lose faith in the possibility of ever hearing His voice in my own ears. I chalked it up to childish wishing and "got on with my life."
But then, one day after a long time without talking to God and an even longer time worrying and wondering if I was gay or whether that was okay, I slipped back into my old habit of passing comments and asking breezy questions to him in my heart and I timidly mentioned, "God, I think I'm gay."
And I heard His voice that day. And he said, "I know you are, baby."
As if that wasn't enough, a few months later I was getting thrashed a bit by my mother after coming out. (Her tactic of choice was to try and make me confused and doubtful and think I was crazy and had imagined it or been duped into it somehow). Losing my mother was never an option I had considered as an outcome for coming out to her. She had always been vocally pro-equal rights, and vocally proud of her brother who was gay. Suddenly when it came to me, it was wrong and I was wrong and it was a choice and a sickness. So I cried and I wondered whether I should just tell her she was right so that I could have my mom back the way I thought she was, or if I should be preparing myself to get married and have kids and live my life without her. But maybe she was right. Maybe I had jumped to conclusions and maybe I should try dating a guy one more time or maybe I could just fake it and make everyone happy and maybe if I did my mom would stop crying every time she laid eyes on me.
That's when I heard His voice a second time. He said, "You are as I have made you."
In that moment, I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Alone, crying, fighting within myself. It's not a fun place to be, but it was not a surprise to Him. All the things I did before were only to lead me to that point in time and that realization and that small sentence. Why? Because what I did there - how I decided to proceed (or not proceed) - would define me for the rest of my life. And God, I believe, spoke to me only on those two occasions because He loved me enough to nudge me toward a life defined by happiness and strength. In that moment, without his guidance, I was leaning more toward the other choice - of secret self-loathing and quiet despair, because that would have been the easier path. To conform with what was expected of me and acceptable just to avoid the incessant backlash and abuse by those around me. Or, so I thought when I was looking at it on that day. Today, I look at what I have and how I've grown and what I've learned and I know that I could not have picked the other path -- the one of lies and facades -- and lived.
The sentence "you are as I have made you," doesn't just apply to me or even to gays or 19-21 year old girls. It applies to those people waving signs that say "God hates fags" and jeering and vandalizing our cars and our homes. They are as they are meant to be in that moment. They are there maybe for the purpose of helping others to see the wrong. They are there maybe to prepare them for some moment in their own lives in which they will be faced with a dilemma and have to make a choice that will define them for the rest of their lives. It is usually about picking fear or love. It was in my case, and I don't just mean love for myself, but for others like me and for my family and the rest of the population who deserve at the very least not to be deceived by me.
Anyway I got a little bit on a tangent, but I just wanted to say to those struggling with their faith and being gay or different or "messing up" in some way, that it is not God who hates you. You are as he has made you. In every moment. There may be a lot of people who act against you, but God is not one of them. And it is possible, though it seems strange, to be complete and perfect and still be growing.
Just, don't stop growing.
