Thursday, March 19, 2009

"Coming Out - There's Something I Want to Tell You, Son"




Originally published on Yahoo 360, April 20, 2007


These last couple of years have been quite a journey for me. Along the way, I discovered the joyful freedom of truth as well as at long last, the exquisite pain of love. Almost a year ago now, I decided that having accepted the truth of myself after allowing half of my life to pass me by, I would not let the truth of my heart be a secret to those I love and care about. I came out to my father, my brothers, my sisters, the nieces and nephews, and most importantly, to myself. But there was still one important person that I had not allowed to know the truth of me, at least not as fully as the others; that person is my son.

How it is that I have a son is in and of itself quite a story to tell… Although there are some who don’t believe in God, and some who believe but don’t think he answers our prayers, I can tell you that I am not one of them. My son is a testimony that God lives and that He loves us, and indeed, that He hears and answers our prayers when they are meant for us. Many, many years ago, when I was yet a young boy, when I thought in silence and fear that I’d never know the joy of a mate, or of children and a family, God heard my prayer about this and He knew how much I wanted to be a father. In a way that I still find miraculous, He brought my son Marvin into my life. They say that God moves in mysterious ways, and it is indeed true…

I met my son when he was ten years old… it was two weeks before he and his brother, sister and mother were to be baptized. They would be joining the congregation of the branch of the church that I led as its president and priesthood leader. I remember quite well that in him I immediately saw something different… I actually felt something different, something deeper than just the spirit of fellowship. I knew instantly that in some way, though we’d never met before, we were connected to one another in a very real and unfathomable way. At his baptism, I remember being greatly moved when afterwards as I joined the elders in laying hands upon his head to confer the Gift of the Spirit, I felt that connection again and much more strongly. It was as if I felt God’s hand upon my shoulder as I laid my hand upon the head of the boy who would become my son as surely as if he had been the fruit of my own loins.

In the weeks and months that followed, Marvin became my little shadow at church. He reverenced me as a child does his father. He made me more than his spiritual leader; he sought my advice and counsel for his young life and indeed my love as the father-figure he’d never known. On Sundays, he’d often anticipate what I wanted to happen in the meetings… no sooner than I’d think of it, I’d look around and he’d be doing it or enlisting the aid of the other youth or even the adults to make it happen though I’d not spoken a word about it. Before long, he even began to look like me as he adopted my style of dress and my speech and mannerisms…

His mother told me of how much he admired me. How he spoke of me all the time at home. She said, “He does everything like you… he even walks and talks like you now.” And she expressed her appreciation of me taking the time to try to help her family. She invited me to her home and I went with my counselors to teach the lessons that husbands and fathers would normally teach their wives and children. Of the children and his mother, Marvin was the one who actually listened most intently and tried to live the precepts of the gospel that we were teaching them. Although he was just a boy, and younger than his brother, soon he was the man of his mother’s house. I was humbled that God had used me as an instrument for good in his life and that of his family.

In his young life, my son and his family had endured many terrible hardships. The influences of a broken home, crippling poverty, gang violence, drugs, and worse were all a part of his reality. But somehow, one day he decided as I did when I was a boy, to choose a different path. As he became an example for his own family, it seemed that the Adversary would not rest in trying to destroy him. At one point, his entire family was homeless and on the street. I took them all into my home until his mother could get back on her feet. Then tragedy struck again. His mother was diagnosed with cancer and faced a very poor prognosis. I watched and prayed as she prepared for the end of her life. She sought homes for her children and I was shocked when in the case of Marvin, she came to ask if I would take him and raise him up for her.

Although Marvin’s mother had arranged for several members of her extended family to take in her children, she told me that Marvin had come to her and asked if he could be my son when she died. She told me that she said to him, she felt that I should have been and that she would ask me. I’ve never forgotten that Sunday afternoon when his mother came to me. She explained that she had nothing to give to me except her eternal thanks. She said she had prayed about it and she believed I would be a good father to her son. I said yes, and Marvin came to live with me and I grew to love him as my own son.

In the beginning, it was not an easy thing to do, to love a child not your own, but as your own. Slings and arrows came from many including my own family who thought I was being foolish to take on such responsibilities. But my faith in God and that He had in His plan given me a heart able to do so was strong. I grew to love Marvin unconditionally and as my own, and he has loved me as his father ever since… Indeed, God had answered my prayer about wanting a family to love and to be loved by. Together, we overcame the influence of the Adversary and my son grew up to righteous manhood. Today, I am proud of him in so many ways. He is a man of great faith… He served an honorable mission for the church and serves faithfully in his church calling today. When he left home for college, I was happier than on the day I myself graduated from college, I had done what many including my own mother doubted could be done. I am very proud of my son and his accomplishments.

My son met and married his wife in college. They’ve been married about a year and half now. Attending his wedding as his father was one of the happiest days of my entire life. This January, he became a father in his own right when his daughter, McKenzie was born. I’ve just returned from visiting him and his wife and my granddaughter. The joy of holding my son’s baby in my arms was an amazing thing… In the midst of great sorrow in my life at the moment, I found I could believe that perhaps the world will endure… and perhaps me with it.

As I said, I’ve come out to my entire family with the exception of my beloved son. Although in truth, I’ve been trying to prepare him for the news for sometime… I’ve dropped little hints about it for some time now. I have been blessed to have met the man I know to be my soul mate. I have spoken of him to my son during our phone calls many times. I even told my son that I was for the first time in my life, truly in love. What I didn’t reveal was that the “love of my life” is a man as I am. In my conversations with my son about him, I would carefully chose neutered pronouns and avoid giving too many details about the greatest love of my life. After those phone calls I was often very sad, being worried that perhaps my son might reject me if he knew the whole truth. Nevertheless, I resolved to tell him the truth when we were together again, face to face and man to man.

I wanted to speak privately with him about it, but we were never alone during my visit until the last morning. He and his wife had taken time off from work to spend it with me during my visit. But on the morning I was leaving to return home, his wife went back to work and so as we sat recalling how lovely my visit had been and as I watched how wonderfully he cared for his little daughter, with a prayer in my heart, I summoned up my courage. I was surprised that I was still truly afraid to tell him, but my fear was not unfounded. My son is very obedient to the teachings of the church which is how I raised him. The church takes a very hard stance against homosexuality. In fact, despite my many years of good and faithful service in the priesthood and as a leader, I was cast out and excommunicated when I confessed the truth of my heart.

As I sat across from my son, watching him cuddle his baby girl, I finally said to him, “There’s something I want to tell you, Son.” After a very long pause, I finally said, “I’m afraid to tell you though… Do you have any idea what it might be…?” He looked at me as if he could see into my heart and said, “I don’t know, Pop, but I see it’s worrying you.” “Are you sick? Do you have diabetes or something?” I smiled a weak smile as I told him, “No, it’s nothing like that… it’s about my “significant other” that I’ve been telling you about.” “I’m not sure you’ll be able to accept what I need to tell you…” “Just tell me. Pop.” I said, “I guess a picture does speak a thousand words…” And with that, I handed him a picture of my love and I standing in front of the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia. To my surprise, all my son said was, “Is this him?” “Yes, that’s Stephen, the one I love.” “Okay Pop, as long as you’re happy.”

It was then time for me to go, the drive to the airport at Salt Lake City would take an hour or so and my plane was leaving in a little under two hours. As I stood to say goodbye, with tears nearly overflowing my eyes, my son handed me my little granddaughter… He placed his strong hand on my shoulder as I clutched his little one, saying, “Don’t worry, Pop, I love you and its okay with me.” I handed little McKenzie back to him as I hugged and kissed them both. I said, “Please pray for me, Son and know that I love you…” “Take good care of your wife and baby, you are more richly blessed than you will ever truly know… Goodbye Son, I’ll call you when I get home.”

On the drive down through the mountains to the Great Salt Lake basin, the beauty of the majestic peaks shrouded in the clouds and capped with snow reminded me that God is great. As I drove, I remembered all the sore trials and tribulations of a life I’d only half lived; of truths only half told. A few tears fell for some of the painful days I recalled. But then I sent up a silent little prayer of thanks that God had heard my prayers so long ago. As I boarded the plane and took my seat, I closed my eyes and I prayed again for the last and greatest gift I seek of my Father in Heaven… He knows the most precious desire of my heart… I don’t believe He will forsake me, He never has.

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