Originally posted to my Facebook on June 8, 2015.
They say that just to touch the sky,
to see the world with eagle’s eye
is our pure joy, our apex grand,
our purpose, and our life’s demand.
And great it seems, to watch the dance
of shifting wings in sweet romance;
but what of us who cannot fly
who cannot soar, not touch the sky?
“Your wings are bright,” they say to us,
“too bright and far too dangerous;
the color of your plumage bright
shall blind all others in their flight.
“So do not fly! Do not succumb
to sweetened poison on your tongue.
You wretched thing, we’d pity thee
if we weren’t so far up this tree.”
And thus I stayed here on the ground,
tethered to the earth, and bound
fast to running our good race
for Him above, for His good grace.
But dust and dirt, they sting my eyes;
they stifle every sound and sight.
Perhaps this life here in the soil
could use a Friend to share the toil.
For all who touch the floor will leave,
and each step leads to parting grief;
but until then we share the dust,
and until then we walk — we must.
Although this race below the sky
can still be run if we can’t fly,
this path on which we slowly roam:
it needs a wing to walk us home.
On April 14, 2015, I had an article, which I intended to call “The Expectation of Love,” published in Westmont’s school newspaper, in which I briefly discussed my perspective on romantic love as a celibate gay Christian. It left a lot of questions unanswered, and I felt it deserved some elaboration. This is my story, along with a few extra thoughts — without a 750 word limit.
Coming out at Westmont was the third best decision of my life; the first being my decision to follow Christ, and the second being my decision to attend Westmont.
Although I expected a bit of backlash from the controversial nature of coming out as gay at a Christian institution, in reality I received the largest outpouring of love I’ve ever experienced.
I continued to brace myself for the insults and the condemnation, but it never came. For that I’m extremely thankful, but I also know that as an openly gay man in the modern evangelical church, the road I want to travel is one filled with pain and difficulty. It always has been.
Continue reading “An Exploration of Love (My Testimony)”
The following is a repost of a poem I wrote this past Valentine’s Day on my Facebook. Being a celibate gay Christian in a time like this, I’ve been feeling a wide range of emotions for the past couple days, and I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. This poem is for everyone whose only love will be God.
If God alone forevermore shall be my only love,
why then, o soul, do you still want? Is heaven not enough?
For hearts can ache and bodies break for lovelorn days aside,
and still my yearning soul cries out, lest all my fears subside.
If God alone forevermore shall be my desert song,
then from parched lips and swollen tongue may all my praise sing on.
For if by Him I am assured eternal rest above,
then surely thirst for forty days cannot negate His love.
If God alone forevermore shall be my sword and shield,
then for the sake of righteousness could I my passions yield?
For yet while others seek to gain the blessings God ordained,
my lot is salt, my treasure light, my destiny the rain.
If God alone forevermore shall be my strength and stay,
then surely I have naught to fear, but save my fallen way.
For if by Jesus’ sacrifice I have been washed anew,
why then, o joy, are you so small, your moments far and few?
If God alone forevermore shall be my only light,
then in the darkness there I find a hope in fire bright.
May love and hope and mercy great all but burn away
my sin and shame and shadow in the Lover’s blameless name.