As that final morning sped by, I found myself wishing I had been more present that weekend. I don't cry easily or often. Yet tears flowed multiple times during our YOBBERS retreat weekend. And now a few more times since.
My daughter had been injured by an accident — something that had no one to blame or fault. And in that time, I needed to know that it was all going to be all right. I needed to know that it would work out. I needed hope. And I needed to restore my faith in that hope.
Here at Your Other Brothers, we've shared advice for coming out, but what if someone comes out to you? I've compiled a non-exhaustive list of pointers and things to keep in mind when someone comes out to you.
Why would I — someone who claims to believe in an omnipotent God who cares for me — wait to go to that God only until after I had tried everything else? When I began to sort out what my sexuality and gender identity meant to me as a follower of Christ, I didn't have to do it all by myself. I could take it all to God.
As I entered into ministry, I knew my SSA could end it all in one swift move. I hoped that instead of being rejected I would be loved. I hoped that people would notice their prejudice and change once they met me. I spent much time in prayer -- but also smoking.
What would it look like for my distant tribe to be gathered together? Didn't God long to change our shame into praise and renown? "Gather us," I prayed. I prayed that my scattered and lost tribe would be drawn together, our fortunes restored before our eyes. It was a prayer for my own benefit, but also for all of us.
I've noticed a couple different aspects of when we pray together. About the unique power in the fact that I go to God with brothers at my side.