Four Promises From a Christian Parent-Regardless of My Child's Sin

This past week I began seeing a blog making the rounds on social media. It was titled "If I Have Gay Children: Four Promises From A Christian Pastor/Parent". Written by John Pavlovitz, these are his promises:

1.  "If I have gay children, you’ll all know it." He states that he will not treat their sexuality as a secret.

2. "If I have gay children, I’ll pray for them." But he makes great strides to let us know he isn't praying for them to change, but rather praying for them to be able to cope with what they were dealt.

3. "If I have gay children, I’ll love them." That one is just as it sounds.

4. "If I have gay children, most likely; I have gay children." This is the portion that I am most bothered by when I see friends sharing this blog because he uses scripture to justify same sex orientation. He states, "God has already created them and wired them, and placed the seed of who they are within them. Psalm 139 says that He, 'stitched them together in their mother’s womb'. The incredibly intricate stuff that makes them uniquely them; once-in-History souls, has already been uploaded into their very cells."

Now, I don't know this blogger. All I know is that someone who claims to have been in ministry for 17 years is getting a lot of praise for comments I cannot reconcile with being a Christian parent.

Knowing that I will be a parent in just a few days, I have thought often of what my child will become. And, yes, I have even thought of what would happen if he found himself ensnared in certain sins because I know that day will come when his sinful nature overtakes. With that in mind, I came up with my own promises, regardless of what the sin is he finds himself drawn to:

1. When my child sins, I will remember that he is like his mother. Romans 3:23 tells us, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." (NIV)  My son will sin. Just like I have sinned. Just like his dad. Just like everyone else. I didn't want my sins paraded around for the sake of shame or glory, and I won't do that to my son. I won't treat him like his sins inconvenience or embarrass me as a minister. I will remember that he is human, and thus carries a sinful nature that has to be addressed.

2. When my child sins, I'll FIGHT for him in prayer. I have no desire to pray the way this blogger describes. I want to pray like my grandmother. When my dad was lost in sin, she was a warrior. She refused to let the devil have him without a fight. He would come home from nights of partying (usually accompanied by the kind of girl you don't settle down with), to find his mother praying over a tear-stained bible. The day he got saved he called his mom to tell her and she said, "I have something to tell you-you got saved tonight." When he asked how she could know, she responded, "I've been fasting and praying for 3 days." Loving your child doesn't mean you lie down and let the devil take them because you don't want them to feel uncomfortable with your disapproval, it means you get up, you put on the armor of God and you stand your ground. My child does not belong to the enemy of his soul. He doesn't even belong to me. I gave him to God the day I found out I was pregnant. I have prayed over him everyday of my pregnancy. I've put in my time before the throne of God and the devil will have Kai over my dead body.

3. When my child sins, I'll love him. This is the one point Pavlovitz got right! My son is worthy of love no matter what. I will give him the type of Godly love described in Psalm 103, "He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities." (v.10 NIV) In the same way God's love for us doesn't make our sins less sinful, my love for my son will not make his sins less wrong, it just means I can see past them to the man God created him to be. Kai will always be my son regardless of his sins.

4. My child will sin, but he will not be the sum of his sins. I will not accept that my son is a sinner and nothing can be done about it. At the end of Psalm 139 that Pavlovitz used we find an interesting prayer in verses 23 and 24, "Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." (NIV) Yes, God carefully weaved us in our mother's womb, but that doesn't take away the fact that we are accountable for what we do with the nature we inherited from Adam. Isaiah 43:1 says, "Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine." (NIV) Unlike this blogger who seems fine with leaving labels such as "homosexual" on his children, God doesn't call you by the labels the world so easily assigns. He calls you not by labels, but by the name He assigned you-Mine.

I leave you with this thought: if your child had cancer would you say "well that's how God made them, full of defective cells. I love him so much I'm going to accept him, full of diseases." Of course not! If your child was sick you would run to the ends of the earth to find a cure. You would give up your own sleep, food, air, whatever it took to change his situation. Why would you treat sin differently?

The Loophole

When I married my husband, I made some promises to him in the form of our vows. There were the standard commitments: promises to love, comfort, honor, and keep in sickness and in health while forsaking all others. But we also promised to be each other's friend and love, to be there in laughter and tears, conflict and tranquility. We promised to be ourselves and to love one another for who they were.

Now imagine that after a year of marriage I become restless. What if my mind begins to wonder what is beyond the bounds of our marriage? Suddenly, those vows I made in love seem less like sincere promises and guidelines and more like a contract that was trying to stifle me. What if I spend days pouring over that contract searching for the most literal meaning of each word with the intention of finding a loophole I could escape through? In an instant, love no longer means exclusivity. Soon, "forsaking all others" is vague. I would start to think, "I didn't list out specific acts that are off limits, and if he didn't ask me to give up things specifically, I don't have to worry about it."

I would be a pretty shady wife at best, and an adulterer at worst. But that's what we do in our relationship with Christ.

My generation has become famous for talking about its relationship with Christ and how it's all that matters. The truth is, if we are in a relationship with Him, most of us are adulterous partners looking for a loophole, and according to Christ's definition of adultery in Matthew 5:28, we are cheaters long before any act is committed.

I constantly see blogs and commentaries offering excuses for one thing or another. They address the "important" questions: "Can I be a Christian and curse?" "Will I go to hell if I drink?" "Is sexual sin really that bad?" Anyone who dares to suggest that a Christian should live differently than the world for the sake of either one's personal relationship with Christ or their witness is quickly labeled a Pharisee, a hypocrite, or just plain irrelevant. Those calling for holiness are accused of being judgmental and told they don't "understand grace".

Generally, these bloggers justify their answers by concluding that if the bible doesn't specifically outlaw something (and I mean to the letter), then it is fair game.

The problem is that for a generation that cries out "I just love Jesus more than anything! I don't want anything but Him!" the constant searching for a way out doesn't work.

Let's return to the aforementioned example of a marriage. I don't think of the boundaries of my marriage as something keeping me from excitement or fun because there is nothing beyond its fences that I want. I don't look for loopholes in my vows because anywhere away from my husband could never compare to the joy I have at his side. So it is with Christ. When you are really in love with Him, you don't look for a way out, because nothing on the other side of His presence could compare! In the same way I keep the unspoken rules of my marriage out of love and not obligation, we should out of love ask "what can I do to be closer to my love-Jesus?" instead of seeing His bible as a contract waiting to be torn apart.

Until we return to our first love, the incessant, childish questions will continue. Reading the Word of God isn't about finding arguments for or against certain acts, it is about intimacy with our Creator. Once you have rekindled that intimacy, your desires will change naturally because nothing-no drink, no sexual partner, not even salty talk-could compare.

Sing Over Me

A month ago I did not know the name Dennis Jernigan, although he has written some of my favorite worship songs. The prolific writer is known for compositions including "Who Can Satisfy" and "You Are My All In All". I became acquainted with his name recently during a conversation with a friend regarding the Church's response to homosexuality. You see, Mister Jernigan, an anointed songwriter and minister,  spent a large portion of his life as a gay man. His upbringing, his former lifestyle, and his DELIVERANCE from homosexuality are the subject of a new documentary entitled Sing Over Me. 

Jernigan's story, I fear, is a common one. Growing up in rural Oklahoma, he just didn't fit the mold of what he was told a young boy was supposed to be. He was artistic and preferred to spend time with female friends. This difference in personality coupled with an incident in which he was solicited for a sexual encounter with an adult male left the writer feeling as if he were, in his words, "something less than a little boy." 

His adolescent and teen years brought fear, confusion, guilt, and bullying as he began sexually experimenting with his male peers in an effort to find approval and affection he craved. After high school he attended ultra-conservative Oklahoma Baptist University. While he dated women at OBU, he continued to engage in homosexual relationships secretly. 

Sing Over Me examines the battles waged in Jernigan's mind. He found himself falling in love with a woman, but kept getting drawn into sexual relationships with men. He lived under a heavy calling, but was left feeling that God hated people like him, because Christians hated people like him. Like many living with the shame inflicted from living a double life, he became depressed and suicidal. 

The peak of the documentary is undoubtedly the story of his true conversion during a "Second Chapter of Acts" concert. As the Holy Spirit spoke through one of the group members, Dennis gave everything over to God. And in that moment, Dennis says he was delivered-instantly, completely. Time certainly seems to support this claim, because this man who stated he couldn't be aroused by a woman has been married for over 3 decades and has 9 children! 

This film touched me on a personal level. I have watched friends and family struggle with the same issues as Jernigan.  I have seen every approach possible from the Church, from telling them they are going to hell because God hates them, to being told that they just can't help what God made them, so they should continue in their lifestyle. 

Watching the pain on Jernigan's face as he described what it was like to live in such bondage left me desiring to do more to help this community understand that there is complete freedom through Christ Jesus. 

To my friends seeking to more effectively understand and minister to the homosexual community (and we should, because they are souls worthy of our time), I urge you to watch this documentary. Hearing exactly how a man anointed and gifted by God could fall into such a  trap may open your mind and heart to understand how one can stumble into this sin without even knowing what they are doing. 

To my friends struggling with living a double life, rife with guilt and pain, I encourage you to watch as well. I would suggest you learn more about Jernigan's story, so that you can see there is hope, help, and healing through the blood of Jesus Christ. 

Sing Over Me is streaming FREE through the month of September. To watch this amazing story of love and redemption, visit www.singovermemovie.com. 

The Noisy Neighbor

My husband and I live on the second floor of a three story apartment building. The first few months we lived there we had a tenant above us. We barely noticed she was there. Then she moved and left a vacant space for about a month. A few weeks ago we got new neighbors...and they made their presence known.

Between the hours of 9:00 pm and 3:00 am they could be heard stomping around on the floor. I know it isn't their fault if the floors creak, but this was not just from normal walking. It sounded like they were playing tag, running back and forth at all hours.

Even though I am in and out of our home all day, I never saw them. Being able to afford high rent in spite of apparently never going to work and keeping odd hours,  there was only one possible explaination-they must be drug dealers. Yes, in my pregnant paranoia I became the noisy neighbor from Bewitched.

This past weekend I finally caught a glimpse of them heading into their apartment. They were much younger than me. Now, I know this is when the youth pastor side should have prevailed and mercy should have taken over, but my hormones temporarily blocked that.

Andy has to get up at 4:30 am to go to work, which meant their lifestyle was keeping him from sleep he desperately needed. I'm eight months pregnant and fighting for every minute of sleep I can get before our baby arrives. With this in mind, our limit was reached and Andy decided to go give them a piece of our tired minds and tell them they had better start keeping it down.

As he headed up the stairs, I waited just inside our ajar door, listening for the outbreak of a fight or gunshots or whatever was to come from the surely impending altercation (you know, because they are clearly cartel).

But I didn't hear any of that.

Instead, I heard Andy introduce himself very kindly as the downstairs neighbor (this didn't surprise me, because he is very kind even if he did get worked up over lack of sleep). Immediately a voice cut him off. No, not a drug lord, but rather a young woman saying, "I know why you're here. I'm really sorry for the noise." Then I heard her introduce Andy to their young son as her boyfriend joined her to add his apologies.

No, they weren't drug dealers. They were young, overwhelmed parents.

When Andy returned he told me that their son gets out of his crib in the middle of the night and that's why we hear running late in the evening. He's also learning to walk, so those "thuds" were just his attempts to reach milestones. They felt so bad they asked to bring us dinner to make amends.

Possible scenarios began to flood my mind again. Maybe this is their first time on their own. Maybe they really don't have a concept of how frustrating it is to live beneath that noise. Maybe they were kicked out of their homes based on poor decisions that were made. Maybe they needed someone to be kind and show mercy, so that they could know about a kind and merciful God. Maybe I needed to remember that in a few months I will need that same mercy as my son begins to find his place in the world.

Lord, forgive me for allowing selfishness to override the call you put on me to go to the least of these. Help me to show love and kindness to those who struggle around me and teach me to see them as souls and not lost causes.

When I Was a Prostitute

I've gone to great lengths to be honest with my readers over the years, but I bet you never thought you'd read that title on my blog. We all know the most basic definition of a prostitute: "a person, typically a woman, who engages in sexual activity for payment." But there is a secondary definition: "a person who misuses their talents or who sacrifices their self-respect for the sake of personal or financial gain." I would have definitely fit that second description, and the truth is, many young women do.

In my case, I became a prostitute when I decided it was acceptable for a man to mistreat me if he followed this mistreatment up by buying me expensive gifts. I sacrificed my self-respect at the altar of a jewelry store. Let's be clear, there is nothing wrong with giving and receiving gifts while in a relationship-as long as the motivation is admiration and not covering up poor treatment. I became engulfed in a cycle in which I was lied to and run around on and then blinded by shiny objects. 

So what's wrong with this practice? The problem is that it slowly programs your mind to see love and relationship as an exchange in which you give your partner what they want for what you want. It sets up a currency-your self-respect, affection, and yes, perhaps even your body are swapped for gifts and money. You become, in effect, a prostitute. 

It is a very self-centered view of love, and thus, not really love at all. When you experience true love, you realize love isn't about what you can get out of it. Real love is about laying everything down, even your life if necessary. 

So to my young friends: don't be duped into believing your affection or self-respect can be purchased.  You are better than that. You deserve better than that. To those who are the "purchasers" in these relationships, I pray that you would learn to respect yourself as well. If you think you have to buy affection, then it's time to assess what is lacking in your self-worth that makes you believe you have to buy love. You deserve better as well. 

No amount of money can compete with the feeling of knowing you love and are truly loved by someone who will be there regardless of what a bank account says. I promise, there is no better security than that. 

Bona Fides

It's really great having an intelligent father you can go to for sage advice, until he tells you what you don't want to hear. That's where I've been lately, in that awkward place where what you need to hear collides with what you don't want to hear.

Last week I was in the midst of a good old fashioned pity party, doubting decisions I had made, because things hadn't turned out as I expected quite yet. The problem is that I know where I am, and I know roughly where I'm going to end up, I just can't figure out how to bridge that gap.

In the midst of calling myself everything from stupid to selfish, dad cut me off. He said, "you are earning your 'bona fides'. Old cops used to say rookies were 'earning their bones'." Of course I gave him a death glare because that cleared up nothing other than a rough reference to the term "bona fide". He went on to explain that this simply meant you have to pay your dues first, and once you've done that, it can't be said that you were handed anything.

Of course I had to do some research and surprise, surprise, pappy was right on his definition. "Bona Fides" comes from a Latin phrase. It means "information that establishes a person’s reputation or credentials." "Bona Fide", without an "s" was at one point a legal term meaning "without fraud". (grammarist.com) Basically, earning your "bone fides" means establishing credentials to prove you are the real deal.

So why the need for the grammar lesson? I have to believe I'm not the only minister who has felt this way. I can't be the only one who has looked around at my present situation and said "how am I any good to anyone? How could this be part of the plan that God called me too?" I know I'm not, because I've watched multitudes of young preachers quit the race because halfway through earning their bones they couldn't see what was going on.

I'm gonna blame this, in part, on the way we were taught the most basic bible stories. We were taught that if God called you to something He would place you right in immediately, you would see fruit of your labor, and be fulfilled in every way. We were taught the "instant gratification gospel". We were told that God took David from the fields, he somehow defeated a giant, and rose to fame. We were told that Moses went from stutterer to revered leader over night. And we were told that Abraham became the "father of many nations"simply because God's favor was on him.

Here's the problem, all these men "earned their bones". David earned his by killing bear and lion. Moses earned his by listening to God even when it meant being mocked and repeatedly turned down by Pharaoh and criticized by the very people he was trying to lead to freedom. Abraham earned his by a series of events in which he followed the leading of the Lord in everything from leaving his homeland and family to nearly slaughtering his son. In fact, in the case of Isaac, the bible plainly states that God was "tempting" Abraham when He demanded Isaac's life be sacrificed (Genesis 22:1).

Yes, God could take you from obscurity and place you on a world stage without all the proving ground in the middle, but He won't. The reason is simple: He loves you too much to set you up like that. In these times of trouble and confusion, take heart! He is letting you earn your Bona Fides now so that when bigger things come down the road you can point the haters back to these moments and say "God trained me on the lion so I could face the giants!"

What if David had let his fear keep him from defeating the lion and bear? What if he said "clearly God isn't on my side because I have to face these terrifying situations"? The course of scripture would have been altered. Don't fear the proving ground. Don't doubt what you face today, you are just earning your bones!

How I Know

This week brought the tragic news of the suicide of American comedic legend Robin Williams. Following the announcement of his death came a near immediate public debate on how we as a culture and as the Church view the act of suicide. I was so bothered by some of the commentary I saw (from multiple sources) referring to suicide as a "brave" or "strong" act committed by people who simply could not carry on that I wrote a response on my Facebook page.

This was the post as it appeared on my personal page:

"I'm extremely bothered by the commentary that suicide is either brave or a means to find peace. When someone's mind is so mixed up that they would consider ending their life, they last thing they need is a cheering section making suicide a viable option. I know, I've been in that place before. I've been the one who was used up and thrown aside, ready to get out of the pain anyway possible. We have no control over where the deceased ended up, but we can do something about making sure others aren't encouraged to join them before their time."

As happens far too often, people saw my words and read into it what they wished. They created an entire dialog that didn't exist, filling my page with the words they thought I would say instead of what was actually said. I was met with implications that I lack compassion and add to the "stigma" of mental illness, that I was anti-treatment, and that I was judgmental of the spiritual state of those struggling with illness. Clearly, none of these things were a part of my comments. I want to clarify here, at length, my intentions and why I feel the way I do about the subjects of depression and suicide.

Until this week, I had not shared publicly my experience with depression or thoughts of ending my life, but in light of the battle I saw going on, I felt impressed to come forward.

I have talked openly about my experience of being used and mistreated in a previous relationship. I have told of how my self-esteem plummeted, culminating in an eating disorder. I have even talked about how I was so low that I lost faith in the very existence of God. What I haven't talked about was the day I decided it just wasn't worth the pain anymore.

One afternoon, while home alone, I saw that none of my plans would work out. I was sure that I had a long, lonely life ahead and couldn't stand the thought of that. The easiest solution came with a bottle of prescription pain killers I had been given by a doctor. I took so many pills that I started vomiting uncontrollably. I remember lying on the bathroom floor, all alone. I remember thinking "I'd rather die alone now than live alone for the rest of my life." I still remember the cold bathroom tiles against my face, because that feeling was the only way I knew I was still alive. I was totally detached from what was going on.

I looked up through the bathroom door and saw a photo of my parents. In a brief moment of clarity, I thought of what it would do to them if they found me. So I peeled myself off the floor and decided to drive until I found somewhere to crash my car. "Surely it will hurt them less if it looks like an accident", I thought. In the middle of all of this, it was a very sad thought that sent me back home-"if I die, no one would come to my funeral." I had a vision of my family grieving alone over my body and no one there to comfort them. Even in my distress, I loved them and I didn't want them to hurt. They had been good to me. They had done nothing wrong to cause what was happening.

I returned home and told no one what I had done. I lied about what happened to the pills to cover my tracks.

I share this not to be controversial or edgy. I am sure some will write and say I should have stayed quiet. But I share it to let you know I do get it. I understand what it is to have NO HOPE. This is the reason I can't be quiet while some laud the decision to commit this heinous act or act as though it's a reasonable means to find peace.

There is nothing peaceful about suicide.

Lying on that floor my mind swirled over the twenty something years that had proceeded. My mind ached as I thought of missed opportunities and squandered time. I lay there feeling like I was being stabbed all over my body as the method I thought would be peaceful turned on me. How could something that breaks God's heart be peaceful? And what could break His heart like one of His children feeling like they just couldn't carry on?

This is what upset me about blogs and postings I saw. The concept that peace can be found is ludicrous. I suppose that platitude is supposed to be used to help mourners cope, but we have to realize who is watching. I was told that people in that state of mind don't care what others say, but if that were true then why do we read constantly of young people attempting suicide because "someone on Facebook said I should"?  I assure you, if I had been told by people I respected or my own family that it "takes a lot of strength to do this", the vision that sent me home wouldn't have looked the same.

I am not judge. I have said repeatedly (though it was often ignored) that I can't know what happens to the soul of a man who kills himself. To say that I do is to say that I fully understand grace, and I'm never going to claim that. I can't see that God would hold someone accountable for an act committed when they were not in a stable mindset. But because I don't know, that gives me even more drive to make sure nothing I say could be misconstrued as support of the decision. I make the comments I do because I love souls, even those that are tortured. I don't want even one to think that I support my walking this planet without them.

This is my prayer and my purpose in anything I have written on the subject: that we as the Church could find a way to have enough compassion and love that we learn how to just "be there" for those who hurt. That we would have honest and open dialogue. That people who are sick and struggling like I was (I never missed a church service, by the way, and no one knew what was going on) would feel comfortable enough to tell the truth about what they are going through and that we would help however we can, whether it be through prayer, support, or even helping to find help in the psychiatric community.

I pray most of all, that we would think before we speak, regardless of our position. I pray that we would neither encourage permanent choices nor condemn those admitting to such thoughts. I pray that we would encourage those who hurt that the strongest decision they could make is to keep getting up every day, pressing on believing that the best is yet to come!