Other Blogs

I try to follow and support blogs that interest me. It is a wonderful view into thought processes and into the deeper thoughts of people I genuinely love and/or want to get to know better. A couple blogs I try to follow are of people I have never met.

One such blog is The Weed. He recently posted this story http://www.joshweed.com/2012/05/vomit-story-of-romance.html. It's hilarious. And beautiful. The awkwardness is just great. I imagine if she did no vomit on that first date they would not have gotten married (sorry if I ruined the story). This same man (a practicing marriage therapist and Mormon) posted this story http://www.joshweed.com/2012/06/club-unicorn-in-which-i-come-out-of.html recently too.

His thoughts are fascinating. I love that she knew ever since their first date. And the family is absolutely beautiful. It's hard to express how I feel about the whole thing. I've always felt like there is a separation between attraction and experience and it was nice to know someone agrees. And maybe defining things doesn't matter. The most important part is how you live. Are you good? Righteous? Obedient? Believing? Loving? I wrote about Zion a while back and I still think charity will be our defining trait. Christ said, "By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love one to another." And I can bear (or bare) all the words of "love the sinner, but hate the sin" or how loving someone means helping them not sin. I can't agree with the apathy or ambivalence it produces though. This is a whole new world for us, for me. I need to learn what and how I need to help.
I've known a lot of addicts. I've tried helping them. A few things I've found is that I've almost never been around long enough to actually help them. You can't just tell an addict to repent, to stop, to just clean themself up. You certainly can't help an addict who does not want or feel a need for help. And once they are willing to accept help it takes time, contact, reminding, no fear, and lots of love, especially when they relapse because almost everyone does. I feel like many people try to help homosexuals the way they'd help addicts.
Homosexuals are not addicts. I hope that association never occurs to anyone. I would love to say this process would be good advice for someone wanting to help a homosexual, but you don't "help" a homosexual. Helping suggests changing them from something bad. You shouldn't be trying to change them. Sexuality is no foreign substance or artifical stimulation. Love and intimacy are the most real and pure stimulations we have. Sexuality and experience play a big part in those. Do not ever try to take those away from someone, because you will deny them one of the greatest blessings of life. If they want to change (and there is a chance they won't want to. Be ready for that), then help them change and understand what that will mean. Even then, the best thing will be to ask questions (so you can understand them), show you're unconditional in your love for them, and offer help when it's asked for. People don't ask for help only verbally. You shouldn't give help only verbally.
So there is no word for what you should do for LGBTQ's (over anyone if we're being true) other than love. That is how they'll know you can make a difference. That is how they'll know you're a disciple of Christ (even if they don't believe in Him).

Yad Vashem

Cold and still, the room echoes more than sound. Gentle, striking strings pluck my heart and draw my tears. Times like this I feel no right to defend myself. No desire to recover. I hurt and rejoice in the strangest ways. Harsh and happy quotes flash before my eyes. Some cut. No explanation can justify the years and fears behind the words. Some give hope of healing for myself and them. Though lost in this canyon of trial there is a light at the end. It takes conscious effort to not punch the faces of men I cannot understand, foolish cowards too scared of their own work to let themselves live. Yet I cry most at the survivors and saviors. And I desire my own. A hand to hold. The warmth of another soul. Another heart. A hug reminding of smiles. Anything to break this cold I cannot feel but which I still embrace. I hope my empty smiles offend none. They are more to reassure myself. This may be my hatred of being a man. Some days I need to cry and mourn, but I feel my duty is to protect and comfort others, to give what I am so desperate for. A leader cannot break down else he or she gives permission for others to do so. Is this manhood? Adulthood? Parenthood? Growing up? Responsibility? I don't take these things well.

We went to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem today. These were my thoughts while sitting in the last room. It was tense. Well, I was tense. I started thinking of a young man, whose face and name is lost to me, who I attended Especially for Youth with many summers ago. He comforted me during a time I wanted to comfort him. It was just a back scratch, but just that simple contact meant a lot. It also made me think of Alyssa and the last time I went to a Holocaust museum. I do not know why I take such things so poorly. Is it even poorly? Maybe that is a terrible word for it.

I am glad to be in a world  that ennobles sacrifice and recognizes lost. It is difficult, but it is worth it.