My First 10k

Sitting on the couch in front of the latest episode of Dexter or 30 Rock. That's what I'd rather be doing than training for my first ever 10k. But that does little to accomplish my personal mission: to live out acts of hope and reconciliation between the church & gay communities. So instead I'm running. I've been running for almost a month now through beautiful Balboa Park. Down Pershing Ave. Through the Florida Canyon switchbacks. Across the Prado.

This is not easy for me - over the past couple of years, well, let's just say I've put on a few pounds. So not only am I attempting to regain the stunning physique of my youth, but I'm hoping to make a difference while doing so. Early this year I determined it was time for me to walk the walk I'd been talking. This meant really getting to know the gay community here in San Diego. I can't expect to be a voice for reconciliation if I don't truly understand where the broader communities in this culture war are coming from.

So this is another small step (or about 6 miles worth of steps, to be precise) for me in my effort to connect with people across the spectrum, show my dedication to the cause of reconciliation, and ultimately represent the unconditional love of God for all his children. That's why I'm running in the annual San Diego AIDS Walk/Run. If you dig it, please feel free to donate.

Love from sunny San Diego.

-MBW

Keep-Your-Cool Boot Camp

Keep-Your-Cool Boot Camp, I'm calling it.

Two weeks ago I talked about how I'm seriously considering a new venture, one that will inevitably have me playing a bit of defense as I navigate the feedback, fears, and faultfinding that will come my way should I plunge head-long into... whatever this thing might become.

The action steps have been pretty simple so far: start drawing up a document outlining my personal mission, vision, and goals, begin meeting intentionally and strategically with people who may share an interest in my passion, and get to know the gay community in San Diego better than I do via volunteering at the LGBT Center, Pride, AIDS Walk, Dining Out for Life, etc...

All of which is just great. But my friend pointed out to me perhaps the one thing I should be most interested in at the moment, the thing that could be my biggest immediate hurdle, is my tendency to REACT.

Let's name it & claim it: "longsuffering" is not my bag of fruit. At least as it pertains to the general mass of humanity. When people don't navigate well (and that concept translates to many aspects of life: conversation, choices, driving...), my first reaction is to SAY SOMETHING. React. Spew forth my own wisdom - at least, as I perceive it.

I'm not naturally gifted with Jesus' ability to look out on a crowd of people and feel compassion. In all honestly, I'm probably more likely to say something along the lines of "Look at those crazy fools." Not so with an individual - you give me one person who is hurt, confused, broken, needy, ignorant, rebellious, angry... whatever, and I'll be fierce in my resolve to see him through. I can relate to the one. But to the many? Well... it's a challenge.

My friend knows this about me. Which is why he suggested I spend some serious time on my knees over the next few months asking God to prepare me to stand in the middle of a culture war where slings & arrows are being thrown from both sides. To temper my reactionary nature. To give me access to a deep well of patience & grace.

The opportunities to learn this lesson are LIMITLESS, I've found. The old adage seems to be true - if you ask God for patience, a big box of it isn't likely to fall into your lap. Rather, you'll be given moments that challenge, try, test you and give you an opportunity to learn to exhibit patience. One moment it's being stuck behind an inept driver. The next it's answering the phone to a rude comment about the quality of my company's website. Then it's being confronted with the reality of people who just aren't on the same page as you. That urge to yell "GET WITH THE PROGRAM!" is what I'm learning to surrender.

So I'm in Keep-Your-Cool Boot Camp. That's action step numero uno. The great thing is, I've experienced firsthand many times this year how keeping your cool can really change the direction of a conversation. It's a skill I truly want to develop. So, if you see me out of line, you're invited to remind me. I just ask for a little patience & grace and I try to learn a little... patience & grace.

-MBW

The "Second" Second Guess

This year is turning out to have watershed written all over it. From the big stuff like my new job to the smallest conversations, I've found more personal purpose, passion, and direction than I ever have. It's been a ride.

And here is where it could be leading me. For some time now, I've considered starting a non-profit or foundation that would allow me to fully engage in my passion to see the mainline evangelical church embrace a new way of engaging the LGBT community.

Yeah - a little scary. But I'm bolstered by many things: my own faith community here in San Diego & their support, burgeoning relationships with other people interested in the same thing, learning from the trailblazer in this area, Andy Marin, and - perhaps most importantly - by what I believe to be my little mission in this world from God. From long before I ever even told someone for the first time about my own orientation, I sensed God was writing my story to be a source of help and hope to other people who have struggled with faith and sexuality. Today I find myself in a place to be able to competently have those conversations: rooted in a great community of Christ-followers, focused & purposed with a mission I'm passionate about, and learning more and more to place all of my hope and trust in one who holds my future anyway.

So here's where things are currently. Since this blog is essentially my "stomping grounds" when it comes to my own emergence from spiritual/sexual shame and confusion (I originally titled the blog "The Second Guess" to indicate I was re-considering Christianity itself), and since it's been a place for me to give voice to the journey I've been on, I think it's appropriate (poetic, ironic even) for me to possibly name this new venture "The Second Guess" as well. This time around, the term would obviously refer to something different; namely, re-thinking (second guessing) the way the church and the LGBT community have approached one another over the past couple of decades. My best friend and pastor often talks about a "third way" - an option that isn't necessarily a balance between two opposing views, but another route altogether that might look more like the way Jesus would have taken in the first place. I believe there is a third way in the current culture war between Christians and the gay community, and I hope to be a part of navigating it with others.

So there it is. This is really the first time I've "gone public" with this notion, and the reason for doing so is that I'd like to actually get some feedback, suggestions, or thoughts on approaching the whole concept. I have just a few concepts/phrases that I've been chewing on for a bit that I thought I'd throw out there and see what anyone reading this might have to say.

THE SECOND GUESS

• Building bridges between the church and the LGBT community (already the tagline for the Marin Foundation, but still an important concept for me)
• Acts of hope and reconciliation amid a crippling culture war
• Rethinking the church's approach to LGBTs
• Second guess your suppositions
• Opening the way of Jesus to his children in the LGBT community
• Opening the church's doors to the gay community
  
• Navigating toward a place for LGBTs in the kingdom of God

For me, the "acts of hope and reconciliation" phrase best captures what I want to be about - a tangible expression of understanding between two communities at war with each other. But what do you think? Is there something you would add, or a question you would expect to see answered in the first moments of hearing about a group or foundation like this? Tell me what you think - but also tell me why.

-M

6 Months of Reprieve

For six solid months I was gifted with a reprieve from some of my deepest-seated inner struggles. I don't know why - it just happened. A reprieve from a struggle I've had since I can remember. (If you know me well, it's not what you're probably thinking.)

I'm talking about a certain reaction, reflex, relational paralysis that happens in my closest friendships. An learned response that tells me: "You are not loved. You are less important than other people. No one would stick with you if they knew what was really going on inside."

For most of my life, that has been my framework and foundation for how I see myself in this world. And when good people have attempted to meet me in my need, I have reacted badly time and again: self-sabotage, making accusations, inventing reasons why they couldn't possibly be serious about loving me.

I've been battling this, working through it, sifting out the lies and learning to unite my heart with reason for a few years now. Until last November, it was ongoing.

Then - abruptly, suddenly - it all ceased. I was free. Everything became as clear as day. For the first time, I found myself relating to other people in an almost completely healthy way, able to give and receive love without any sort of self-doubt or self-torture that used to accompany my attempts at friendship. It was absolute bliss: there are not words to describe how shocked I was to find that life could be lived outside of that prison of despair, perpetual fear, and paralysis that I had always known.

It was a gift - that's all there is to say. I didn't do anything to make it happen. It was a gift - a beautiful, miraculous, sensational gift.

But it ended. Last month, on an odd sort of night following an odd sort of day, the floodgates opened in full force and I fell prey to the darkest of fears and self-doubt. In an instant, I found myself right back in the thick of everything I had been so glad to leave behind. It was almost devastating.

But not quite. Because of those six months - because of that gift - I was able to look my fears in the face and with a resolution that surprised me, say: "NO. I do not have to live this way."

I prayed that night like I hadn't prayed in years - fervent, desperate, but with resolve to overcome my fears. I wasn't going to quit until I'd sent the demons back to hell. (That's a metaphor... or maybe not.)

I said:

"God, you have gifted me with 6 months of reprieve from the pain, longing, and disappointment that has shadowed my whole life. You picked me up out of the muck and mire and held me close, shielding me from the darkness that tries to overwhelm me. There wasn't a hint of it to be seen, felt, or heard.

And in doing so, you've given me a glimpse of what life can be like. You've let me taste freedom. You've given me reason to believe in something better. I had no proof that I could live unencumbered by the chains of mistrust and self-loathing - until these 6 months. Now I know what it's like; I've sampled it; I've lived it... for a moment.

But nothing worth having ever comes easily. And I believe that you showed me this way, this freedom, to give me something worth fighting for. Like you did for Moses, you took me up to the mountaintop and showed me the Promised Land. You let me know it that it is real - that there is more to hope for than these desert wanderings.

And because of that, I can't help but be filled with hope. I won't despair and I won't retreat. I will fight for freedom because it's the sweetest thing I've ever known. And because I believe you are a God who values the journey over the destination, I will answer your call to follow the the Way that is messy, unknown - yes, frightening - because I believe it will be worth it. You have made me believe it will be worth it.

There is one more thing, God. During these six months of reprieve, the interaction I've had with people has been revelatory. I've made the discovery that my story can make a difference for someone else. That because I have known the darkness and the oppressive weight of fear and doubt, I can speak to other people in darkness from my place of hope, from the promise of freedom. In a divine twist that only you could imagine, my personal history of pain can be a catalyst for a future of hope for many. I want to serve you in that way. I want to serve others in that way."

That was my prayer that night.

It still is.

-M

I Am Not Alone

Some time ago, my roommate pointed me to a blog that I've read faithfully ever since. Andrew Marin is a self-described "white, straight, conservative evangelical" who lives with his wife in the middle of Boystown, a predominately (that's an understatement) gay part of Chicago. It's simple, really - he's taken incarnational ministry to the gay community. The type of "move-into-the-neighborhood" approach that is so popular right now among Jesus-following urban dwellers, inner-city ministers, and even those in international, third world work is Andy's approach to bridging the rift, gap, divide between the mainstream church and mainstream gay culture.

I can't tell you how excited and moved I was to learn of a guy on the conservative & straight side of things who had made it his life's mission to eradicate ignorance in both the church and the gay community about the "other side," and is so humble, open, and willing to go where the road leads him. When I had the chance to hear him speak at the National Pastor's Convention here in San Diego a couple months ago, I was in tears by the end of his presentation. I'm convinced he's the real deal - love is his priority, and he sees people before he sees an issue or agenda. Which is why I'm REALLY excited that he is coming back to San Diego next week, and I"m going to have the opportunity to take some friends from Citywalk, my church, to meet with him personally and get deeper into the dialogue about what needs to change in the church for reconciliation to happen in a big way in this area.

It's one thing for me to be committed to the idea that gay people would one day be a vital and integral part of the American church. It's another thing entirely for a well-respected, conservative, straight dude to write a book about it, build a foundation around it, travel the country and speak the truth about it. It's given me a lot of hope for my own future, and one more reason to keep working for and believing in the possibility of peace in the current culture war.

I'll have a lot more to say about Andy & The Marin Foundation in coming weeks, I'm sure. First, I'm gonna finish reading the book and enjoy the time I get to spend with him next week!

-M