A few weekends ago, Greg and I had some good friends visiting us from Michigan. On an especially beautiful fall day we decided to drive up to the Northern Georgia mountains, which is one of our favorite things to do. We stopped in a quaint little town called Dahlonega, which reminds me of stepping back in time to where life was simpler, kinder, and less chaotic. As we walked around the town’s square, we stepped into this one small shop that had a variety of goods: Fragrant candles, lovely local pottery, and specialty pieces all displayed on the shelves. What caught my eye was a t-shirt in the corner of the store with the words “Love Well” on it. As I looked at it I thought to myself, “Oh what a sweet message”. However, I didn’t realize was there was a painful story behind it. As I was admiring other items in the shop, I overheard the store keeper sharing with a customer of how the “Love Well” t-shirts came to be. It turns out that a local teenage girl was being bullied in school by a some of her classmates. One day, as they continued to pick on her, the young girl decided to read her bible. As she was reading it, she came across this verse:
The other day over lunch with a good friend of mine I mentioned how thankful I am that God gave me a gay son. At first, my friend looked confused by the statement. I could see it on her face. How could I be thankful for having a gay son? Just to be clear, I would not have chosen this life for him; and furthermore, he would never have chosen it either. Members of the LGBTQ community face obstacles that often make their lives more painful. Having a gay son produced pain for me as well, but God has a knack for taking painful circumstances and transforming them into something beautiful. So, when my friend asked why I was thankful for having a gay son I offered more than handful of examples:
Isn’t it funny how oblivious we can be to some very obvious things in our lives?
For the first 28 years of my life I thought that I was invincible. I was the guy who raced my Mustang through the neighborhood, and would ride my motorcycle 100 miles per hour down the highway. I thought I was completely in control of everything. But then my wife Lynn had a miscarriage and we lost our first child. I started to question if there really was a God.