Between you and me, Chief!

This afternoon I am angry, sad, and heartbroken on behalf of a little six year old boy who cannot advocate for himself. I sense that he believes there is no one, no adult out there big anough, mighty enough to save him. There are children around the world whose home lives are live petri dishes growing the disgusting human bacteria of painful and evil malice. What does one do when they believe the world has failed them? What does one little six year old boy do when he believes there is no help and he is too small to stand up to the evil darkness that paints the corners of his home – the one place he should have been able to be safe in? The place he should be able to count on for food, shelter, cleanliness, respect, love, dignity, a chance to grow and learn and thrive, and a place to feel safe and secure from the frightening things this world serves up daily. What sort of hope is there for growing up into a balanced, educated, prductive human being when the frightening things this world serves up daily is the main menu in your own home?

I began substitute teaching 2 1/2 years ago at this small town school. That was Chiefs’ first year also. We arrived together. I was fifty-eight, an age that many middle aged “movers and shakers” who run today’s modern society feel is beyond productivity and wisdom in this “superior” age of enlightenment. I walked through the doors healthy, happy and secure. Chief walked into the classroom with marks on his little body. Appropriate steps were taken. Human services was called. Marks and details were documented. An defensive tension entered that family setting because they now knew they were being observed. But over time things seemed to be getting better.

At Christmas the family was helped each year. Food, gifts, clothing were bestowed on them. No doubt the bestowers felt good about their holiday deed. Not a judgement – just a factual comment. In time, at least the visible abuse marks, were no longer seen on the little body. I never failed to smile and call out my “hello Chief” each and everytime I passed him in the hallways. Somedays he answered, somedays he didn’t. It didn’t matter to me.

Our second year there Chief began to talk some. He was very limited in who he talked to and what he chose to say. When I substituted in his class I looked for evvery opportunity to praise, talk to, encourage, love, and dignify him just as a little boy, a human being. I felt rewarded when I overheard teachers say Chief wouldn’t talk to them, because he talked to me, even though it was very limited. I felt there was the slightest connection between us, tentative, but a real connection. I saw him, I felt him, I acknowledged him simply as himself and where he was. And he needed a lot more than he was getting, a serious flaw in our educational system that law-makers are totally ignorant of. I say that with full confidence. If they weren’t ignorant, it would be reflected in the educational laws to improve the lives of children in our school systems, and nothing would persuade them to do otherwise.

This year our third year started and Chief is now repeating Kindergarten, essential to his welfare if he is to find his way through. And we come to today. I had substituted the previous three days and was not expecting to be called in this morning. The call came anyway and I hurried to get there. I was subbing in the class where there is some one-on-one attention for a short time for the children who need it most. Our time was coming, Chief, the last 30 minutes of the day was to be for you and me; a time when I could gift you with absolute full attention to you alone and your needs. Yes, I had already heard you had a rough morning. You made a bad choice on the playground and got into trouble. You ran away. It took two teachers to finally corral you and calm you down.

The afternoon found us on the playground, once again. I was with two other little gentlemen during our P.E. class who need special attention. Once again you made a wrong decision in your social actions with another student. You pinched her, and as all children will, she came and told the P.E. coach. You were sought, brought over and questioned. That’s when I saw the darkness descend over you like a demon whose arms eagerly waited to strangle your spirit and senses. When you were told you would have to stand against the wall in time-out you ran. For a child who experiences degradation and abuse when he makes a mistake it is hard to distinguish between good punishment and bad punishment – especially when you are only six and your life has been anything but normal. Sure, most kids understand. And that’s the problem. Adults assume certain level of abilities and aptitudes for all children lumped into an age category. But you are not of that category, are you Chief? Your “normal” has been an intolerable, twisted wreckage of abnormal, and the wisemen around you cannot see this startling truth. And sometimes to run is the only way to freedom and survival when you cannot hold your own survival in your hands.

The coach started following you and I jumped up to try to get to you first. The coach was calling for help. I was there. I caught you and you went down kicking, screaming and fists flying. I understand. Your little boy kicks did not hurt me and the only thing I wanted was to convince you that I cared. I told you that no matter how much grass you threw on me I would never be mad at you. The coach told me to get back (according to the “book”) so you wouldn’t hurt me. I knew in her eyes I was just an older woman and a substitute who couldn’t possibly have the heart wisdom to help this child now in a manic episode. I continued to talk to you and tell you that you were supposed to be with me this afternoon. You finally quit kicking and fist thrusting. I brushed the grass away from your face. You didn’t like it, but you let me. Unfortunately, I had to take my two little men back to their classrooms. By the time I got back outside you were gone, taken to the principal’s office.

As I approached the offices I heard the loud thumping against the outter wall. I knew it was you. When I glanced through the window in the door of the principal’s office I saw her standing near you with her paddle while your demons played out their misery. The vice-principal told me I could not help. I walked away. A few minutes later I returned and walked into the principal’s office. I told you this was supposed to be my time with you – just me and you alone and I asked if you wanted to come with me? You quitened down and shook your head yes. But then you and I were both devastated when the principal told us you had to “earn that right” to go with me to the classroom. The world slapped you in the face, let you down, and closed off the doors for you to find a quiet, safe place to regroup. With no other option I said hopefully next time it would work out. Once again, as the world failed you, you reacted in the one way you have repeatedly seen and been taught to react by those who have the strongest influence in your life. You lifted a tight fist with you middle finger extended and shouted, “Fuck you”. And then, you lifted both fists, tight with a frustration bordering on hatred for all you have had to suffer, both middle fingers high in the air and the primal screem, “Fuck you”. And I knew, and I understood. Where is the justice? Where is the advocate for sanity? Where is that single one, big enough and brave enough to push through the jungle of rotten souls in your life to save you?

It is not the fault of the principal. She is a good woman and was doing the job as it was taught to her. That is the accepted way in our world. We have our glorified institutions of higher learning; our “how to” text books full of egotistical theories, supposedly tried and true, not to be questioned. According to enlightened professors those words are factual statistics proven after following the lives of the status quo. And that, dear Chief, is where they always come out with barnyard excrement on the bottom of their shoes, because you are not of the status quo. They say, “There are protocols that must be followed.” I guess you and I would say, sometimes, protocols be damned. With every ounce of your little pathetic life you have demonstrated you are the exception that needs a stronger, safer,individualized measure of prevention. What all those intellectually sound individuals fail to realize is that each time you are abused, each time your father speaks the unspeakable to your no longer innocent ears, shoves you around and hurts you without leaving marks for the watchers to find, locks you into a solitary darkness of unlife, everytime your mother or other family members choose to be blind and deaf, your spirit, your soul, your very light is descrated and you are diminished further and further into an angry world that eventually will claim your soul and won’t let you return. All those books, all those glorious institutions, all those industrious leaders and teachers will never be there in your darkest night to rescue you, to hold you, to whisper words of hope and love, so what is their value to you? A good question I think because evil doesn’t subscribe to texts of higher learning, enlightened teaching, predictable thinking. There is no, “If this then this” or “for every action there is a reaction”. Resident evil plays by its’ own agenda and it is not normal, predictable, or easy to understand. And above all, it just doesn’t give a mighty damn what anyone else thinks. And that is your prison, the one no one really sees or wants to imagine.

“You have to earn the right” is chaffe in the winds of your fragile life. You who do not know love, have never experienced love or seen it demonstrated or taught before your eyes by those who have the most inflluence in the structure of your life and personality, are expected to live a life of love, understanding, and compassion for others. Love is essential, the beginning building block that everything else we learn and adapt to in this life depends on, and you do not possess it; not because you didn’t want to grab hold of its’ beauty but because it was curelly withheld from you and now you are paying a price far too high for anyone to have to pay. You are expected to magically respond to the teachers around you, to learn and to grow with a normal intelligence and personality – you who do not have the first basic DNA to begin – love, which begets trust, which begets safety, which begets hope and light, which begets learnng and a will to live and grow.

Because our world chooses to live in a true defecit, ignoring God’s grace and our ability to use that grace on behalf of others, we are unable to see the real you and put ourselves into your reality. So you are to blame because you just don’t get it. You don’t respond the way you “shoud be” responding, growing with the intelligence you “should be” obtaining. I am heartbroken there was no grace for you today. Why could there not be a moment of total forgiveness so you could escape the hell of your life and have a few quiet moments to calm down and rebuild yourself? You were ready to stop the madness but the protocols wouldn’t let you escape.

Now tonight, I fear for your life. What happened when “they” were called to pick you up early from school. They were inconvenienced for your misbehavior. Oh Chief, my heart breaks and my tears have fallen as I prayed for you tonight. I felt God’s tears in my heart as He has stood beside our hurt and pain. But He is there, beside us, waiting to do what He must do when the time is right according to Him. I asked myself if your life is better cut short and taken up into His glory or left for a lifetime of a hell on earth. I don’t have the answer and it is not required of me. But, old lady that I am, I know you are in there in that little six year old body. I hear you, Chief, with my “outdated” widsom and heart for God. And you heard me and believed in me for a brief second of hope when you shook your head yes and said you would go with me. We connected and could have gone into a time of rebuilding until it was taken from our reach this afternoon. I will keep reachiing out to you if God allows the opportunity to be mine.

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If Chief should die before I wake, I pray his soul, dear God, to take. Amen.


An Open Letter to Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals and Transgenders

Dear Child,

I don’t know your name, your age, or where you live, but I long to reach out to you. Would you come and sit by my side for a few moments? The world is so busy and noisy and stressful. We could spend some quiet, peaceful moments together. I’d love to touch your hand or shoulder so you will know I am real. I’d love to look upon your face and even deeper into your eyes and perhaps send some warmth into your heart. It is okay with me for you to be whoever you are today, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender. We can just enjoy the two of us in mutual respect.

For a few moments in our private time together, if you wish, you can call me “Mom”. My arms and my heart reaach out to you in love and acceptance of you as a person, plain and simple. If you have excelled in your life, helping others, contributing positively to our world, I am proud of you. If you are just now striking out to find your path, I encourage you, and I am proud of you. If life has kicked you down, broken your spirit, and reduced your self-esteem to ashes, I give you my compassion and encouragement because you do have value and you can still be a wonderful contributer to life, and for that I am proud of you. It is possible you have lived through dark days and have chosen life over death for which you are to be commended. I see your strength even if you don’t at this time. Yes, I am proud of you.

In this moment in time, it’s just you and me here together. Is there some memory that has left a mark on your soul? Is there a pain that hurts too much to let out? Is there something you need for someone to hear but they aren’t listening? Is there a secret to dark and too deep? Is there a cry that has gone on so long there are no longer tears? No one to trust?

This last year and a half has been a long and challenging journey for me. But is has brought the knowledge, the wisdom, the love and acceptance for the LGBT community that not all people have. I am sorry for this and yet I can only speak on my own behalf. My own son who is gay, has worked patiently, lovingly, and tirelessly with me and the results have produced a desire to love others wider and deeper than ever before – a love without judgement or condemnation. Today I’d like to share the best love I have with you. If I had a great treasure of gold and precious stones to share, it could not be more important than this love.

We are a world overflowing with good and bad, healing and hurt. Sometimes our best is pathetic and can never be enough to make things right among us. There is love and hate. And by their very nature of healing and destruction I believe with all my heart and mind each and every “good” – each and every “bad” is born of a very specific Source. I don’t believe in a “little good” except that it must come from a Source of “absolute good”, otherwise there is no way for us to measure any level of “good”. And there is an absolute Source of “bad” and with it comes destruction growing from a source of “absolute hate and evil”. The evidence of opposites is all around us. It is in the light and the dark, the cold and the hot, the high and the low, the large and the small, the smooth and the rough, the sweet and the sour, the living and the dying, and the list goes on and on. It is one of the few things that make absolute sense to me.

And I am fully persuaded that Source of “Absolute Good” never intended for you to suffer the hurt, pain, and condemnation that tear your heart and mind into broken, jagged, pieces. But with equal determination, the “Absolute Bad” has had only one goal and that is to completely destroy ALL that is “Good” and through it all people.

This “Absolute Good” is who I love and serve with all my heart. I call Him Father. I don’t know what picture fills your mind when I say the word “father”. Maybe your father has been a source of pain, even hatred for you. Maybe you never knew your father. The one I call Father is burdened by grief when any one of us are on the receiving end of such destruction. His heart is humble and He would draw you into His arms to comfort you – call you tenderly by your name, and tell you about a love that is higher than either you or I have ever experienced. It’s not that He doesn’t want us to experience this love by hiding it or making it available to some and not others. The problem is that the ones who are supposed to be messengers of that love are not always doing their jobs. In the past I have been one of those lazy, uncaring messengers. And I’m so sad and sorry I haven’t understood it with the intensity I do now. I’m still not the best messenger. But because of the love of Father I have begun to hear, to listen, and I have been receiving more of Father’s wisdom and powerful love so hopefully I can begin to give it away to others.

And do I have a gift for you. There is a destiny that has been within your grasp since the day you were born. Its’ glory is beyond our comprehension, beyond what we understand to be time. Our life as we presently live it compares to the life we are to eternally inherit like a rhinestone compares to the sun. It holds more mystery than we can imagine; a never ending supply of perfect fulfillment. And it has always been and always will be. It’s not mine to give but I know beyond any degree of doubt it is our for the asking.

Please don’t listen to those who would stand in your way, preventing you from receiving your full inheritance. Those who don’t believe will twist and turn Father’s words, because they themselves don’t really understand Him and what He gives. His words make no sense to them and they refuse to study or ask for help to understand for fear of feeling weak within themselves. Father’s plan and deisre is to have a relationship with you and me and all people. Just believe that when we can’t get life right, when our faults take over even as we try so hard to get rid of them, we who still want to be loved and cared for can be! Believe that Father has already made things right for us. There is the real strength. But He doesn’t want to MAKE us love Him. He doesn’t want and did not create a world of puppets with wooden minds void of the ability to make decisions and act on them. And it is by that same plan that He refuses to automatically make right every bad decision we have fallen into, or rearrange our horrible mistakes into perfect scenarios, even when the innocent ones involved are hurt or worse, die. It is HE that stands ready to take up those innocent ones whose lives are hurt or cut short from man’s mistakes. Father wants real people who can come to Him of their own free will. He wants people willing to step up and ask Him to reveal His love. It is not any more difficult and it cannot be any simpler.

I don’t know who, or even if anyone has hurt you in your life. But if you have been oppressed I almost wish it had come through me because now I could look you sincerely in the eyes and tell you how I hurt for all the mistakes I’ve made. I could ask for your forgiveness and maybe it would bring a cleaness to your soul that could begin to heal your wounds. How I wish I could make you well and whole and free from any emotions that would continue to imprison you. I can’t. But don’t forget my gift to you. Father can do all that and more. All you have to do is just ask Him.

Nothing fancy is required. Just something simple like: “Hi Father, it’s me ________________. I’m not really sure about what I’m doing but ‘Mom’ assures me you do know and you can help me.” Then you just tell Him anything and everything that comes into your mind and out of your heart and soul. Tell Him you want His love. Ask Him for it! After that, you talk to Him anytime you want. Talk with your heart and Father will find you and He will let you know He has found you. The best part is you will never be alone again, even though life leaves us lonely far too often. His very Spirit will come and live with you and will guide you as you make decisions in life. If there are changes to be made to make your life richer, fuller and finally free, He will guide you. Just listen to your heart.

When you are ready, there is a testament to Father, a New Testament, where His own Son tells us how to have a real relationship with Father. The first four books in that testament are full of truth spoken directly from His Son. If all else is unclear in the other books, make those first four books your primary focus. Father’s Spirit will grow your mind and heart with what you need to know as you read.

I am here to help if you if you have questions to ask or thoughts to share. Never, never forget, you are someone important to me, but better still, you are absolutely important to Father because He sent His only Son to take upon Himself every wrong, every bad, every evil act you and I have ever done and they will never again be laid at our door or counted against us if we love Him. They are removed from us forever. There is a word for that and it’s name is GRACE.

You are loved and worthy of love.

A Mom who loves you and cares

What Does GRACE Really Mean?

Grace: Unmerited and freely bestowed divine assistance, favor and love.

Grace: Divine influence operating inside of man to inspire virtue.

Grace as defined by R.C.H. Lenski: Grace connotes guilt. Mercy connotes misery, the consequence of sin and guilt. Grace not mercy pardons. Mercy not grace binds up, heals, comforts, restores.

Grace as defined by Martin Luther: Grace means properly God’s favor, or the good-will God bears us, by which he is disposed to give us Christ and to pour into us the Holy Ghost, with his gifts…Nonetheless, grace does so much that we are accounted wholly righteous before God.

A Safe Place

Seventeen years ago my son told me he was gay. For fifteen and a half years I lived in what felt like an unsafe, confusing, alien world. I searched for answers to unburden the confusion in my mind and heart. I longed for support and friendship and could find none. I am a strong Christian, loyal to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and my heart was breaking. No pastor, no church leader, no friend, not even an enemy extended a helping hand. There was no advice or comfort.

In the spring of 2010 I decided enough was enough. I began my own journey by slipping my hand into God’s, crawling into His lap, and for the first time I experienced a safe place. And in that safe place my Abba Father began to teach me about GRACE.

I don’t care who you are or what your life has been, there is not a single human being who can survive without a safe place. This blog site is a safe place for lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgenders. It is a safe place for family and friends who are searching for answers and support in their own confusing journey to learn about and to understand a group of men and women who are not heterosexual. And for the humble Christian who sincerely believes Jesus Christ died for all men and the will of God is for all men to come into the family of eternal faith in Him, this is a safe place to ask questions and to ponder the answers within the circumference of grace.

Welcome to Grace the Middle Ground where men and women, homosexual and heterosexual can safely come together and begin to unravel the tangled spool of misunderstanding that modern society has made of this deeply complex dimension of human beings. There are no easy answers. If there were we would not be in this darkness of hatred and wounded spirits. This is a middle ground of safe exploration where trite cliches carry no weight and throwing our mindless answers before the question is asked is no longer an acceptable method of operation.

I look forward to hearing from the voices who need to be heard and have been waiting for so long. And it is my prayer that no matter how difficult or painful the question that comes across this site, the answers will come with compassion and respect.