A couple of weeks ago my morning  Bible reading was Psalm 37, and when I read it I knew it was an answer to prayer.

Take It Back

On Christmas Eve I gave my cousin, whom was rooming with me, two weeks to remove himself and all of his belongings from my home.  I know, how could I do it on Christmas Eve, right!  When something needs to be done nothing should hold you back.

Anyways, I was feeling a little bummed about the whole ordeal.  Why?  A few reasons:

1) My cousin’s fam and not just oh-that’s-my-cousin-so-he-gets-special-treatment, but I have a genuine love for him.  I respected him and treated him better than I do my own brother.  We were actually closer than my own sibling.

2) Point #1 being stated, my disappointment in his behavior is what shocked me the most.  Why try to use and manipulate someone that is lending themselves to your benefit?  I don’t think it’s necessary.  I was amazed at his anger when I asked him to leave.  God had warned me to expect him to be angry, but I didn’t expect the magnitude.

3) I’m sick of always being in the wrong because I try to be truthful, upfront, and firm.  Those three things usually leave no room for error in my thinking.  It’s when I try to be “nice” and “tactful” that problems ensue.  I think that’s mainly because people consider nice to mean agreeable/spineless and tactful to mean soft/overly apologetic.

A New Word Order

I don’t subscribe to the above definitions of nice and tactful.  I believe in cutting the fat and giving people what they need.  Granted, I may take a while to say what I have to say because I’m trying to find the best way, albeit the diplomatic way of saying it; best believe though, when it’s said, you will know where I stand.

I learned in high school dealing with females and growing up dealing with my dad not to give anyone the ability to try and read between the lines.  I once told a girl: “There were no lines for you to read between.”  Firm.

Yet, after looking over the situation with my cousin I had to ask God, “What happened?”  And He quickly pointed out that yet again I had moved without asking Him.

I replied, ”Okay, I admit that I didn’t check with You first.  I’m sorry, but dang.  Why am I always in the wrong?  Why doesn’t the other person ever get in trouble?”

So, He directed me to Psalm 37:

¹ Do not fret because of evildoers,
Nor be envious of the workers of iniquity.
² For they shall soon be cut down like the grass,
And wither as the green herb.

³ Trust in the LORD, and do good;
Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.
⁴ Delight yourself also in the LORD,
And He shall give you the desires of your heart.

⁵ Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him,
And He shall bring it to pass.
⁶ He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light,
And your justice as the noonday.

⁷ Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently for Him;
Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way,
Because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass.
⁸ Cease from anger, and forsake wrath;
Do not fret—it only causes harm. *

A Different Mindset

Admittingly, I was encouraged by the Psalm yet still a little frustrated.  And then God reminded that people will know that I am a Christian by my love.  Do I really love my cousin?  Yes.  Then He deserves my forgiveness.  God isn’t asking me to be a blind imbicile because love isn’t blind.  It sees extremely well.  It just doesn’t keep a record of wrongs done because it recognizes the end of evil and the reward of righteousness.

Now, instead of going into express detail of the horrific experience of rooming with my cousin I just cite irreconcilable differences, lol.  Or, our personalities are too dominant to occupy the same space.  How’s that for diplomatic?

Are you struggling with love, forgiveness, and/or irreconcilable differences?

*New King James Version

“Phuck him, Lord,” I yelled.

I glanced oncoming drivers. They were startled at my voluntary Tourette’s attack.

“I hate’m. I hate’m,” I continued crying uncontrollably; chest heaving, vision blurred, hands trembling on the steering wheel.

Every time I opened my mouth between the sobs only two phrases emerged: “F him, Lord,” or “I hate’m. I do!” That lasted for 20 minutes.

That’s how I felt then (2005) after the last big blow up my family had that was aimed at my dad.  Essentially, I did hate him and I had made every promise in the world that I was done with that “Nigga.”

I wish I could say that I laugh when I think of how I was crying and telling God that I didn’t want to have anything to do with that man.

“You’re my Father now,” I told God. “You have been for the past 9 years. I don’t need that dude.”  And so things went.

Of course I heard how he was doing through mom and my siblings, yet the reports were never positive. And each time I heard them I strengthened my stubbornness toward him. I did write him and tell him how I felt about him. I let him know that I wasn’t pleased with his behavior. That was almost a year later, though. And the reason that I finally did that was because I didn’t (and don’t) want to be the adult male that is trapped in adolescence or pre-adult maturity because I have unresolved issues with my dad. Too many people are walking around wounded by their parents – angry, stunting their worldly success and spiritual growth holding on to the pain. Some of them unable to reconcile because the parent has passed away.  I determined, “Heck no that won’t be me!”

Are you holding on to past pain or current hurts from a parent? a brother or sister? a friend? Are you angry with God with how your life is playing out?  How are you dealing with it?

I’ll share more on my next post.

Like A Sailor

• Age 18 when my dad put me out: “Alright, God, it’s just me and You. I need You to take care of me.”
• Age 19 when I learned that most churches cater to the tithe paying congregation which leaves teenagers and children out in the rain: “F*ck You, God! Your people ain’t sh*t! They suck so You suck.”
• Age 20 tired of the hypocrisy of church folks: “Leave me the hell alone, God. You said You prefer that I be hot or cold, well I’m cold. Don’t talk to me. Leave me alone.”
• Age 22: “LORD, I miss You, but I’m not going back to church until You let me have a Bible study.”
• Age 23: “I can stop clubbing, hanging with the “wrong” people,  and whatever else, LORD, but You have to stop my attraction to men. I like them. I like sex. I like sex with them. So, do Your thing. Will I have to marry a lesbian?”
• Later at 23 I was baptized: “I feel new, God, but I still feel gay.”
• A little later at 23 I was a volunteer at a Christian boarding school: “What’s wrong with these people, LORD. Where’s their faith that You can do anything for these kids?”
• At 24 when the adminstration learned of my previous sexcapades: “You’re kidding, right God? They’re kicking me out the dorm for things I did in my past? *sigh* Once again Your people suck! I won’t get mad at You, though.” I lied.
• Age 25 I’d been introduced to “hardcore traditionalist” missionaries: To the missionary – “No, I’m angry with you because you’re clowning me about wearing a tie like that has anything to do with my relationship with God.” To God – “Why do You have so many A-holes as disciples?”
• 26: “I’m done with church, God. Screw them and their stupidity.”
• After I found out I was HIV+ at 27: “I guess it’s better to know now than later, huh. Are You gonna let me die? Will I be able to get married still?”
• At 28 when God assured me He didn’t promise me marriage: “Yet again You leave me by myself to handle things on my own. Why am I even dealing with You? First, You let me get molested; then You let me get molested again; then You let me be gay; then You let that school treat me like a f*cking leper; then You let Satan’s demons hem me up in Memphis; then You tell me I’m dying w/an incurable disease because I was stupid and screwing whoever, whenever,  however; now You’re telling me You haven’t promised me marriage! I don’t love You like that, LORD.”
• Age 29 God told me I had to stay in Huntsville: “That’s jacked up, LORD. What is the deal?”
• Thirty found me walking around dazed and confused: “I really hate church, Father. It’s so stifling. It’s not supposed to be that way. No body cares about me. Eleven years later and I’m still dealing with the same issues. I’m lost. Help me!”

God’s A Big Boy

I firmly believe in letting God know how I feel about everything because 1) He knows already, and 2) pent up anger is fertilizer for bitterness. When I got that “Thirty-one-derful feeling” this year I was trying to be a good Christian and do things the way people suggested.  I tried to pray the prissy prayers: “God, please help me love everybody.  Help me turn the other cheek.”  But after months of holding in what I really felt and watching them laugh and smile and judge like their lives were a cakewalk and they had no sin, I burst – “You know what, LORD, You’re a joke!  How are You letting those people get away with what they do? They can talk about their lame testimonies but if I get up front and even suggest that I struggle with homosexuality then I get treated like a Chester (the child molester).”

I continued to feel like I was being played.  I turned to porn and almost let God go again, but He reminded me of the above timeline and the things that filled the gaps between my outbursts. He gently told me that if I wanted to be free to let go of my past (more on that in a later posts).

Yes, He and I still rumble, and I have fits, and He spanks me, and I’m hardheaded, and He loves me, and I cry to Him, and He scolds me, and I complain, and He guides me, and He watches me, and He gives me all that I need, and He shows me myself, and He teaches me the right, and as I spend more time with Him I love Him “like that.”

He knows me inside and out and still sticks around. He gets the finger for that: #1