Sometimes we need to spell it out.

It's Valentine's Day, and I'm overdue on posting to my blog. I don't think I've talked much in the past about my 'Sweetheart,' the person I fell in love with, head over heels. This beautiful woman was smart, independent, and she even turned me on. It's true, the first and only woman I ever really kissed, and someone I genuinely felt attracted to. Maybe I could actually do this marriage thing after all. Yes, I "struggled with SSA," but she proved to me that I wasn't gay, and maybe I could leave all those feelings of gender insecurity behind me. I was 24, tired of being alone, and naivete was the name of the game, actually, it was the only game I knew.

Oh my sweet Susie-Q was clever, spoke with a British accent, and made me feel like a million bucks. We could talk about anything, she made me laugh, we played games, went to movies, and I was happy to be her friend. But she didn't want to be just my friend. She told me she had plenty of friends, so what was I going to do? It was refreshing, a woman who called me out of my comfort zone, who demanded I make my intentions clear. "Okay," I said and then gulped a big breath for courage, "I only want to date you, I want to see if we can make it work." Not sure what "it" was, but I had made a commitment she was hoping for. Only, I didn't really get the dating game, the romance game, because such courting rituals didn't come naturally. Case in point, Valentine's Day 1981 and two weeks before our wedding, I didn't get around to buying a Valentine card... I put it off, got distracted, and didn't think it really mattered. Boy, was I wrong! Perhaps that oversight should have been a big flashing red light for her, but she forgave me and we still got married. (I don't think I've missed a Valentine Card yet, in 30 years, so the grief she gave me for that indescretion must have made a lasting impression.) Unfortunately, what I didn't learn from that experience, and one that I'm still trying to do better on, was her basic need to be cherished. Living through the disconnects of a mixed orientation marriage means this is a BIG problem. How can she possibly feel cherished, revered as the only one true love, my eternal Queen, when I feel emptiness and long for connection with other men? It breaks her heart. And it breaks my heart that I hurt her so. There are no easy answers to this one.

Flash forward thirty years, and now we're empty nesters. We can walk around the house again without any clothes, if we feel like it. We have great kids who are getting on with their lives and their own families, beautiful grandchildren, and we hope for many good years to come. And I still love her. My heart is committed to her, to us and our family. Perhaps not with the same naive love of my young adulthood, since a lot of floodwater has gone under the bridge, but I've weighed our options, and I want to grow old with her. I love her caring, her sense of humor, her gentle smiles when she first sees me come through the door, and the simple things that bring her joy. I am comfortable with her, even if all the lines don't always match up. I can tell her my frustrations and she still listens. My Sweetie is one of the most kind and loyal persons I know...the proof is that she hasn't given up on me yet.

So can I spell it out any better than L-O-V-E? Only that it happens one day at a time, one opportunity at a time to hold, to cherish, to forgive and be forgiven.

Write in my heart! (again)

Happy New Year! It has been a long long time since I last blogged, and yet I feel the pull to begin writing again in 2011. I hope to use my blog again as a place to share my thoughts and have dialogue with friends, which is something I've missed since moving to Oregon and being so consumed with a new life. Please feel free to banter with me.

The recent discussions in Beck's and JGW's blogs on the topic of faith, doubt and authenticity got me thinking about a poem I've been working on, and the struggles I've had lately with trying to reconcile my discontent with church leaders and feeling a sense of place and happiness at church. Faith is no longer a simple thing for me. Part of me wishes I could go back to the years of complete confidence in and testimony of the 'true and living' church, but I suspect that what I am learning is more valuable to myself and closer to the truth of things as they really are, and not as I want them to be.

Following is a rather edgy poem for me, one that has been trying since the middle of November to get a voice that I am satisfied with. I'm still a little unsettled with it, but have decided to let it rest, publish it, and see what anyone has say. I usually don't talk back to the Lord, but it all started in response to the reading assignment in Jeremiah for the Old Testament Sunday School class. I've not read much of Jeremiah before, except for the sound-bite snippets we usually hear, like in Jeremiah 31 which the poem responds to. But I also found much of his writing, such as is in Jeremiah 16, to be troubling because of his condemnation and anger with the people. Maybe the Lord really did want him to say all the terrible things he said to the Israelites, but I know there are always two sides to a story, and human perspective often tends to be one-sided or bigoted. And so, my poem explores the exasperation we may feel as gay LDS, the feelings of condemnation, the doubt, the blind leading the blind, the need for acceptance and redemption, and finally the call for attention from a living prophet.

Write in my Heart! (again)

Will you make our land desolate?
I'm no better than my dead father.
So call on my obstinate soul to break,
To turn away the path of destruction.

As yet, your rod of iron rusts.

Do not whisper or sigh softly
If you want me to hear, for crying
Out loud... Only then will I let the
Sound fall flat, the silence speak,

And wait for you.

Allay the pale and trembling fear,
My dread that you are not here
To listen to me. I am open to your
Transcription on my inward parts.

There scrawl your name.

I am, I am, I am hoping you are near.
Did I not feel you present, your hands
On my believing head, a blessing
Urging me to seek, to love, to see?

How then, to stumble in darkness!

Christ, I am falling in your ditch--
And I am not alone, we are legion.
Forgive us, spent and hungry,
With only a cardboard sign saying

“Anything Helps… God Bless!”

But this is our writing, not yours.
All we ask is your signature on
The corrugated line, redeeming us.
Jeremiah, where are you now?

Nothing Wavering

The March issue of the Ensign contains Pres. Monson's message, "Come unto Him in Prayer and Faith." As Pres. Monson typically tends to be, it is anecdotal in its stories and message. In the midsection of the article, 'Accepting His Invitation,' Pres. Monson refers to James 1:5-6 and Joseph Smith's prayer and First Vision. He then points to many other scriptural examples of people qualifying for blessings as a result of the fervant prayer of faith. His repeated use of the phrase 'nothing wavering' has caused me to reflect on the role of my faith, or lack of it, in my own personal experience. Sadly, I confess that much of me questions, bobbs up and down, and struggles to get it right, nothing wavering.

When I was a fresh convert to the Mormon faith, 15 months to be exact, I entered the mission field to serve the Lord. That was the scariest leap of faith I have ever taken. I left the weeping embrace of my divorced mother, who didn't want me to go. But I felt this was what the Lord wanted me to do, and in retrospect, I'm thankful to have served and loved the people of California as a missionary. It was a marvelous time of spiritual awakening and maturing for me. But, unlike the glowing example capstoning Pres. Monson's article, my most fervant prayer of faith was never realized. Like Pres. Monson, my Mission President promised me that if I worked hard, prayed hard and was worthy, then my family too would come into the church. Oh, if this were possible! To see my parents reunite our family in faith and for us all to be sealed in the Temple! This was the stuff of my naive dreams, my fondest heartfelt hope, my most earnest and oft repeated prayer. So, what went wrong? Did that one time I masturbated on my mission spoil it all?

What does Faith mean to me? How is faith the same or different from hope? Having just read the First Presidency Message, these were the questions I pondered last Sunday during the quiet time of the sacrament. To me, I need other words to help me convey the concept of faith: words such as 'trust' or 'confidence' relate to me the feelings I have for Heavenly Father and the Savior and their love for me. Joseph taught that faith is the product of experience--I believe that, and it jives with my observations in life. I can completely have faith or trust in God, because of the repeated feelings of the heart and ideas of the mind they have revealed unto me. I do not doubt them. I believe in the inspiration of the eternal nature of the soul, that we lived before earth, and will continue to progress in the lives to come.

Trust is something that must be constant; you cannot partially trust someone. I trust Jesus, nothing wavering. I trust in the power of goodness, faith and love, nothing wavering.

I struggle to say this, but I no longer trust in the church, that it has or will make inspired policies that directly impact my life or others. I trust the scriptures and the doctrine, but I don't always trust the interpretation thereof. . . I don't always trust the culture and the leaders who support it. When someone breaks a trust, then faith is a hard thing to restore, because faith is a product of our experience. I believed the church when they said that I could 'overcome' my SSA, and that it would go away when I got married; my personal experience has proved otherwise. And I have come to realize my spiritual experiences in living and loving Gospel virtues doesn't always align with the historical and current actions of church leaders. The poor treatment of intellectuals and feminists and the recent events of the church's attack on gay marital rights is front and center for me in my skepticism of the claim that "it's ALL inspired of God."

On the otherhand, Hope is something I'm more flexible with. Hope is in the best wishes department for me. I hope for joy and peace in this life, and then for a glorious resurrection--I'm not sure what such will entail, because that has yet to be determined by my kind Redeemer. But I trust him, believe him, that it will be the right reward for me, whatever it is. Hope doesn't have to measure up to my expectations or timetable. I can be disappointed and still have hope that things will work out in the end. Hope is a great motivator for me, it plays to my desires, my willingness to sacrifice for something better. And I hope in a more positive future for the church, that it will learn from its mistakes, grow to be more inclusive and diverse, and overcome the prejudices and stigma of my generation. So I am willing to stick with the church and do my part to establish Zion, the pure in heart, in preparation of the Lord's Second Coming. I do have faith that He is coming, and I hope He won't be too upset with me and the rest of us sinners in His church.

This last week my LDS faithful aunt passed away. She has lived a long life of devotion to the church and her family. She had great influence on me joining the church and going on a mission. I have loved her dearly my entire life. As I matured as an adult, I became more aware of my aunt's imperfections, but I adored her just the same. I have witnessed her trials of faith, much of which were due to her sometimes rigid views of what was best. And I also saw how those trials humbled and schooled her sensitivities and blind spots, just like my own weaknesses do for me. My aunt was a grand lady who loved the Lord; she showed me by her example how to employ faith, hope and testimony. She exemplified that 'Nothing Wavering' kind of faith, for good and ill, that we cling to in our religous and spiritual lives.

My family has asked me to read some of my poems at the graveside service. I"ll read Face Towards Zion, Prairie Wind, and Outstretched Hand, because these were all poems my aunt loved. And just for the occassion, I wrote this poem for you, my dear Aunt Beth: may you rest now, in peace.


Nothing Wavering

She looks into the mirrors of her eternity, nothing wavering,
Firm in her vast hope of bright reflections that do not end.
Yet, the image of her desire curves away into deep green
Cosmos, where Life is bent into refractions that do not go

Straight, do not always conform to her will. Yet, she follows
Those bending beams of light, nothing wavering, through a
Veil of confidence that leads her onward path, and warps her
Chosen reality into the vision she dreams of when we are near.

She laughs in the day and weeps in the night. Unaware,
We ran to her arms to be enfolded in her soft bosom, endless
As the night in its comfort, then hung on for just one more hug.
Her squeeze was always there, tight and nothing wavering.

Yet, laced in loss, she hangs on fiercely as we mature into our
Own gospel dreams, the practice of our lives, where the agency
She treasures for us turns us at times away from her dreams,
And once again she is alone with her babies, nursing tears.

She sings to us the songs of Zion, her beloved. So let us dance,
Let us paint, let us teach stories of faith and persistence, for we
Are the family of her choosing. We're the ones she fried tacos for,
We are the few she took out her teeth for on our birthdays!

She still winks and chuckles at her jokes. But wait, there's just
One more story she must tell you before you leave: it's always
Roughly the same--it is her story of Joseph, her story of Jesus,
The story of her life and her love for you, nothing wavering.

Gecko Revealed

"My name is Ron, and I'm a Gecko."

A little of the life and mind of Geckoman. Since I am 'coming out of the closet' and back into the world of public introspection, I thought I might share more of who I am and where I'm coming from. Such a statement of faith and purpose might help those stumbling upon my blog to construct a more complex picture of who this reptile guy is.


We moved to Arizona in January of 2006. I became fascinated with the little geckos that crawled up and down the cement block wall in our backyard. You could only see them when they moved. Often they would stay in the same place, just bobbing up and down. So I wrote a poem about it, wherein I compared myself to the little animal, going up and down in the same place. We live in a double world, as married gays in the Mormon church. Many of the faithful I know might be repulsed to learn that I am attracted to men; many might find it hard to touch or endear my little reptilian friend as well. But on a personal note, I too am often frustrated by myself, that I can't seem to control my thoughts and that I make choices for behaviors that are on the edge. So I find myself bobbing up and down, drawing attention to my own condition. However, like the Gecko, my bouncing behavior has a purpose: it cools me down and tones my strength and coordination.

As the years have moved on, and now that I've read and learned of other's common Moho experiences through the bloggosphere, I see that I'm not all that peculiar and many 'struggle' in similar ways that I do. I have become more accepting and loving of myself, and less judgemental and homophobic of others. Like others, I realize that I have known from childhood that I was a bit different, or processed things differently than most other guys. I began to especially notice this in junior high school, as I bloomed into puberty, yet I refused to acknowledge that I had anything 'gay' going on. I just chalked it up as I've always been a sensitive, creative kind of guy.

I joined the church when I was 18, and that set me back in coming to terms with my homosexuality. But that was probably for the good, since it trained me to live asexually for a few years, until I met my wife at BYU and married her. (And I am truly thankful for her and my wonderful children.) I believed the church's rhetoric that my SSA was a consequence of the sinful choices I had made, and that I would grow out of it when I got married and could have regular sex. The married sex was good, but with that increased sexual activity I also found an increased hunger for men and to be accepted as a man. However, I never went 'all the way' sexually with another man, although I could have a couple of times cruising for some kind of connection. For many years I programmed my life to be absorbed in work and family and church, and simply shut out my feelings of attraction. I'm less willing to do that now, and have chosen a path to understand my heart better, and still love the Lord for it all.

I am a man of practised faith. I know of God's goodness through personal experience, even though I have suffered injustices when it comes to finances and employment and what some people do to each other. My heart is more tender, I've chosen to be more accepting of those things I cannot change and empathetic to the plights of people struggling in a world of pride and indifference. I hope that I can overcome my own pride and enmity towards the Lord, submitting to his will more freely. I struggle with cynicism and critical thinking when it comes to our shared religion. I want to believe that it is all directed by revelation, but I suspect that many times the Lord is willing to let us evolve slowly as a people and a culture, allowing our church leaders the bias and prejudice of their tradition. I also acknowlege that change is a matter of timing, and the Lord will direct events as the saints are willing or able to embrace change. We saints are not always as humble and loving as we would like to think we are.

I'm distressed by the church's role in the whole Prop 8 controversy, and in general it's lack of inclusiveness towards gays, feminists and intellectuals. What a shame, what a loss of human resource available to build a more global and powerful body of Christ. I see much of the church's singular attitudes as a power struggle to maintain the status quo: well-intending, but entirely convicted men denying those with different political/social/spiritual agendas a seat at the Lord's table. I fear at times that our leaders are not being led by divine revelation, but I have hope that eventually the Lord will make His will known in more conclusive ways and that the church will be more receptive to follow. I guess time will tell, and I remain in the church, on the side of safety, ignoring the prejudice and trying to work on my own personal agendas of faith, hope and charity, praying for better understanding while also trying to develop stronger integrity.

Within the last couple years I lost my job and most of my financial securities. I am far from alone in this messed up economy. As I have confided previously, most of these things are merely 'accessories' anyway, and not the important stuff of life. But praise God, the Lord has been aware of the little Geckos on the wall, and I am truly blessed to again have a wonderful job doing what I love, and to be 'home at last' in the beautiful place of my nativity. I feel we are where we are in life for a purpose and reason. To think otherwise is to accept that life is nothing but chaos, and I know in small and simple ways that God lives and loves me, the little Gecko.

Slowly but surely I will become known as a gay and yet faithful man in the church. I don't intend to broadcast my orientation carelessly to whoever will listen, but I will talk about it if asked. People may find my blog and the word may spread. I care only to love and be courageous in I what I believe to be the cause of truth. I have nothing to hide anymore, and I'm not ashamed of who I am. I don't want to be known only as that gay guy who loves music and ice cream, but I'm willing to take the risk. Hopefully I'll continue to be able to serve the Lord and to help to advance His purposes, relying wholly upon the mercies of Him who is mighty to save.

"JESUS LOVES YOU, but..."

I admit I giggled out loud with wicked delight when I saw this bumper sticker the other day:

"JESUS LOVES YOU, but I'm his favorite!"

What a coy little thing to say. It's funny because it's close to the truth, even though it stings just a bit as an afterthought. However, the more I've thought about it, the less funny and cute it is. I'm sure it never was intended to be social commentary on what's wrong with religion, so maybe I should just lighten up, but actually it's been kind of an 'en-lightning' rod for me.

In just a few words this little statement effectively points out to me why I'm uncomfortable with my church's veiled attitude with gay folks. . . or feminists, or Democrats, for that matter. It's that righteous knowing you're better than someone or something else. And you know it's true because everyone else believes it too.

But it's not just Mormons who do this kind of thing. Oh no, we certainly have no exclusive franchise on self-righteousness. We can easily see it expressed by other 'saved' religions or maybe Muslim extremists, but what about by political parties, by movie star celebrities, by our devotion to super-premium brands, or even by the 'gay agenda'? It's that whole 'I'm Right and you're Wrong' mentality. And the truth is I find little ways to practice it myself, just about everyday.

So now I'm making a conscious effort to catch myself at it. I'm trying not to be better than you, or smarter than you, or sexier than you, any more. And Jesus, I don't want to be your favorite. I just want to be one of the billions you know and love, who also loves you too.

"There is joy in creation."

I've been away for a while, but I haven't lost the need to write and put my stake in the sand. I'm very pre-occupied with my new job and all it entails, so it is hard to carve away time for blogging, but I'm determined to get back into Bobbing Gecko. The other day I went back and reread some of my entries from last year, and it was truly good to hear myself thinking, so with this post I hope to continue my dialogue with myself and those who like to check in. . .

Last Sunday at church, a brother in my HP Group described a sacred event that happened to him. His testimony has resurfaced on my mind several times this week, as I have reflected upon it and the events of the last few weeks in my own life. The priesthood lesson was on prayer, and as the discussion coursed through gratitude and then on to guidance from the spirit, this older brother raised his hand and asked to share. He went on with his story: while on his mission as a young man, he was very troubled by the constant rejection he was experiencing, and so was pouring out his soul to the Lord, questioning why life was the way it was. Why wouldn't people just listen? How come there was so much strife and discord in the world? As he was praying, he felt as if he was being carried away, removed from the surface of the Earth, to view the world from the vantage point of space. How beautiful our world was! He then saw our planet diminish in the distance as the universe expanded to his view. Then he heard a mild voice that simply said, "There is joy in creation." This closed his vision, and he found himself back in his bed, to ponder on what he had been told. His vision of creation has guided and tempered him throughout his life.

Lately I have been busy creating many new flavors of ice cream for my employer. It has been stressful to get multiple tasks accomplished, lots of different components designed and figured out for cost, label information, etc., all by a deadline. I've been working long days, and yet in a word, I've been having the time of my life! Yes, some people actually get paid for inventing ice cream. I'm one of the lucky ones, and no, you can't have my job! Anyway, last week as I was making samples of new ice cream flavors in my lab, it was late at night, I was exhausted, and yet I started feeling such gratitude to my Heavenly Father for just being there and being able to do what I was doing. You see, I know what it is like to be stifled at work, to be bored at work, and to be unemployed. I started to weep for the simple joy of my creations, right there all by myself in my little upstairs lab at the dairy. It's not a fancy place, I have no team of people to manage, just a little ice cream mix and a batch freezer, bottles of exotic flavors, a little chocolate, a little caramel, some fruit preps, and my imagination. And it is wonderful.

This last Monday I took the samples of my creations, ten new flavors in all, to 'Show & Tell' with the owners and the Sales Team. Typically they launch 4 new flavors a year; it was going to be hard to see which ones they'd cut. Everyone was excited to see what I might come up with, since this was my first product presentation for the team. They loved the first flavor, a trio of sour sorbets patterned after Jolly Rancher profiles. And they loved the next, a northwest berry trio, and the next, a cherry cordial, and the next, a peanut butter ice cream with caramel and chocolate covered peanuts. Sample after sample they raved and couldn't get enough. They even liked the Orange and Licorice combo. By the end of the show they applauded, and everyone was full of ice cream and smiles from ear to ear. Then came the concensus discussion for what flavors to launch, which ones to hold back. It became evident they wanted them all; they ended up approving eight new flavors, and discontinuing six existing flavors in the line to make room for the newcomers. Now I've got twice as much work to get all these new flavors set up for production, but I'm happy.

And so I come back to this idea of having joy in creation. Whatever we do, we can take great satisfaction in what we do, even if it's splitting wood, as one brother contributed in the HP lesson. How true. We are also the creator of ourselves, day by day. With honesty and the gifts of the spirit in our lives, Heavenly Father is able to show us our potential, whatever that may be. Joy in creation is not gender or orientation conscious. It operates in great diversity. It is the work of our Creator.

There is a God

Much has happened in my life since I last wrote in my blog, almost six months ago. Things got worse before they got better, and I simply did not want to whine about my lot in life, so I shut down my blogging. I had a number of job interviews, I flew all over the country, then one after another they dissolved without any offers. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I attract the kind of employer I desired? I was getting desperate and would have taken anything, but nothing came. It was time to learn even more humility. I needed to let go of my past failures in corporate America and the frustrations that were eating me up--it took some more time and reflection.


Over the Memorial Day weekend I went with friends on a 3 day camping trip to Havasupai, down inside the Grand Canyon. This is a magical place of living waters. It requires a 12 mile hike in and out, but it can be savored along the way, and I had a marvelous time. The aquamarine water is clear and brisk, springing from a deep underground aquifer that leaks out the canyon wall and flows down in pools and waterfalls on its way to the Colorado river. It was a time to get away from it all, to be with dear friends and feel close to my Heavenly Father. While I was there I felt like everything was going to work out and be okay; despite my fears, I just needed to continue to have faith in the Lord.


The hike out the canyon was the most daunting part of the trip. We elected to begin in the late afternoon, once the shadows were in the canyon, and hoped to be out by dark. The radiant golden light of the western sun lit up the high layers of white sandstone, casting warm light below that was soaked up by the red and ochre tones of the stone layers around me. I thought of hymns and hummed the melodies as I marched up the dry creek bed towards the waiting switchbacks that rise steeply up the canyon wall at the trailhead. It wasn't going to be fun, but there was no other way out. After two thirds of the way my feet began to hurt with hotspots, I had used up most of my water, and everyone else I was hiking out with were way ahead of me. I didn't like the idea of being the old slow poke and making others wait for me, but I was doing my best and that was all I could do.


After hiking about ten miles, with the two most difficult miles yet to go at the shoulder of the rim, I paused to rest. I prayed to my Heavenly Father for help--I needed Him to lift me up and give me confidence that I could do this. . . before the darkness settled in! I started up the switchbacks and felt as though charged with new energy and joy for being there, even though it was tough and challenging. I paused at every other switchback and waited a minute to catch my breath and for my heart rate to slow down, enjoying the view and splendor of the last rays of sunlight. When I was almost to the top, the sun made its final glint of glory before dipping below the far rim of the canyon. At that moment, I raised both my hands up in the air, feeling such gratitude for the blessing of being there. And since I was all by myself, I felt inspired to proclaim out loud to the rocks below me: "There is a God!" After looking at the expanse of space and sky beyond me, I felt again to repeat and magnify the thought: "There is a God in the Heavens!!" But I could not stop the prompting of the Spirit speaking to my mind, so again I spoke out loud: "There is a God in the Heavens who loves me!!!" Then I knew what I wanted to say next, without any prompting, "There is a God in the Heavens who loves me, and I love Him."

I reached the top feeling great, so alive and thankful for making it, and my son-in-law was cheering me on for the last few hundred steps. Surely there is analogy here with our mortal journey, is there not?

When I returned home from Havasupai I had an email waiting for me from a man I've known for years, asking if I were still available for employment. This person owns a food company in Oregon, and he was hoping I might be interested in his company. I flew out the next week for a job interview, and what he really wanted to know about me was where I saw my life's priorities and values, a personal question that almost blew me away. I responded frankly--my family, my career, my faith. I have since joined his company, and I am responsible for new product innovation, which is just exactly what I want to do. My new home is now in Oregon, which actually is my old home, since I was born and raised in Oregon and left 30 years ago... so this is a home-coming that goes beyond my longing hopes to a dream come true. I am simply thrilled with the new job, and credit my 8 month ordeal to the Lord's knowledge of where I could end up and holding out for me when I might have caved in.

Truly, there is a God in the Heavens who loves me, and I love him.

P.S. Just in case you're wondering, the Gecko will always remain a part of me and this blog. Anyways, I don't particularly want to morph into a salamander or a banana slug, even if they are more prevalent here in the great Pacific Northwest.

Accessories

Recently, John G-W posted his feelings upon having his laptop stolen at a bus station: "I have lived into the awareness that, as important a possession as it was to me, it was, like all possessions, still just an accessory."

This statement brought a flood of recognition to me, because over the last 4 months I have learned the reality of 'doing without.' I had become comfortably accustomed to the privileged life of adequate compensation, and based so much of my consumption of material goods on wants rather than needs. It is surprising how little you can actually get by on when cold hard reality slaps you in the face. When you no longer have income flowing in, you are forced into a scarcity mentality that is much more critical about what needs and wants really are. Literally, the buck stops here.

It has been pretty humbling to accept that we could not get through this alone, that we were not financially prepared or self-sufficient enough to handle this ongoing crisis of unemployment in meeting our living expenses. We never anticipated it would take this long for companies to make a hiring decision, because in the past we had moved from one company to another with relative ease. We quickly used up the meager severance and our savings in a couple month's mortgage payments, and then thanks to my wife's sister and my brother, were able to cover another couple month's mortgage payments and winter semester tuition for a daughter. And yes, we've been living on our food storage, but so much more is required. Unemployment benefits only pay out about 20% of our previous take-home pay. The loving concern and generosity of our Bishop has relieved us from so much stress and worry. Church welfare has helped with the utility companies and provided fresh food for our table, and we have been able to volunteer in a couple different venues to give back ourselves.

At Christmas we received several anonymous notes on the door with money and gift cards to the local supermarket. We learned more than how good it is to give--we learned how to receive. We had a poignant and grateful celebration of the poor baby born in a stable--mostly with good food, a few small gifts and most importantly, each other to hold on to while singing the carols and bearing our love and testimony one to another.

We approached this month of February and another $2000 mortgage payment with no idea what to do next. Our Bishop said not to worry. How could we possibly take any more from the sacred funds of the saint's welfare offerings? We cried and contemplated about what to do next. We've tried for the last couple months to sell a car, but with little response. This month we began praying in real earnest for help. And I just kept lowering the car's price by $200 every few days until it was a real deal. So Thursday I signed over the title of my little red car named "Ruby" to a very nice woman named Deepika. She and five other foreign nationals from India are on a teaching assignment in a local high school because of a shortage of math and science teachers in the USA. Deepika has a PhD in Science and has been a principal of a school in India. Her colleagues are also well educated, bright, gentle and engaging. Again I was reminded of how much I actually have, as we walked into their rented house with only two mismatched office chairs in the entire first floor. They spoke of missing their families back home in India and how different the culture is here in America and how difficult it is teaching teenagers with no desire to learn in a vacuum of classroom discipline. I realized how meager they had it, to be separated from so much with only a few other people struggling together for mutual support. I humbly felt gratitude for my many blessings of family, friends and church that cements my life together in all the right and familiar ways.

Yesterday morning I went to the Mesa Temple, to thank the Lord for my many blessings and to petition for guidance in the interviews ahead. Tomorrow I leave for an interview in New Hampshire. There are developing opportunities in Pennsylvania and California. As I sat pondering in the Celestial Room, with eastern light streaming in through the tall windows of the beautiful room, I received a calm assurance not to worry, that all would be well and that I should choose a job that would best deliver on what I wanted to accomplish in the remainder of my career. I reached for a copy of the Bible, and it opened to Joshua 24, where the prophet exhorts,

"And I have given you a land for which ye did not labour, and cities which ye built not, and ye dwell in them; of the vineyards and oliveyards which ye planted not do ye eat. Now therefore fear the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in truth: and put away the gods which your fathers served on the other side of the flood, and in Egypt; and serve ye the Lord."

I confess that I have served the gods of 'Accessories' more than I previously cared to admit. How much do we really need, after it is all said and done, and our excess is truly stripped away? What is really important? It is our family, our faith, our determination to do what is right. The Lord has demonstrated this to me in the past few months. I feel as though I have gained a wisdom that would not have come in any other way. When we move, it will have to be to a more spartan lifestyle. We cannot sell our home at present because we are $30,000 upside down on the value of it, so we're leaving it for our married children to live in while they finish a graduate degree at ASU for another 18 months. Hopefully the housing market will recover and we can recoup our equity at that time. We will need to move into a low cost rented apartment to manage our combined housing expense, and we'll leave most of our belongings in the Arizona house. But it's only stuff, just accessories, that we leave behind. We carry with us larger hearts, full of desire to give back to our God whom we know is aware of all the earth and blesses those who love Him.

Back in the celestial room of the temple, I witnessed even more. I sat in a plush chair, surrounded by fine things drenched in chandelier light, and watched the beautiful people dressed in white move in their family groups to hug one another, smile with joy and rejoice in being in the Lord's house. There were a couple young men with a pink tags pinned to white shirts embracing proud parents wiping tears from their eyes. There was a lovely young bride to be with an earnest young man at her side and family clustered all around, waiting for their sealing session to begin. I myself had felt the warmth as proxy for my great great great grandfather, William Bowie, whose grandson and my great grandfather, John Bowie Ferguson, immigrated from Scotland to the new frontier of Nebraska territory in the 1870's. These men I am confident to meet someday. They are not accessories to my life; they are part of my life.

I reached again to the Bible on my lap and felt the Spirit's prompting to turn to Proverbs. Which chapter? Eight. So I opened to the chapter eight and began to read:

"Unto you, O men, I call; and my voice is to the sons of man. O ye simple, understand wisdom: and ye fools, be ye of an understanding heart. Hear, for I will speak of excellent things; and the opening of my lips shall be right things. For my mouth shall speak truth; and wickedness is an abomination to my lips. All the words of my mouth are in righteousness; there is nothing froward or perverse in them. They are all plain to him that understandeth, and right to them that find knowledge. Receive my instruction, and not silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it."

I will miss my little car, Ruby. But the transaction has been for the sake of wisdom, and I feel the Lord has spoken to me in astonishingly clear terms. He has granted me an understanding heart. I hope to always retain the wisdom of these months of struggle. I have been led through my barren wilderness of sorting through the accessories of life to realize more deeply that which is beyond price: my loving wife and loving children, who in turn love what is right and are striving to be their best. It is not the car, the furniture, the house, the whatever. I love this church, the safety net it has been to my soul and family. And I love the Lord, for I know he first loved me.

Goodbye, Pres. Hinckley

I will miss you Pres. Hinckley, for all your wonderful words and inspiring leadership, your warm and familiar humor. How can I thank you for such a life of devoted service? Only by expressing in some public way my love and gratitude for your life so well lived. I am confident you are now with your beloved companion, and I hope you feel satisfied by all your mortal contributions.

Pres. Hinckley, I can't think of another filling the void that now exists by your parting, but I know each church president finds a niche and the Lord works with those individual talents and sensitivities. The Lord will bring about his work, and as you have said, we all have a part in it, large or small, if we so desire.

Pres. Hinckley, I will return often to your writings, to find inspiration to 'Stand a little taller' and 'be a little better', day by day. I will try and recall in moments of temptation your clarion call to shun pornography and all that is debasing of the human spirit. I will follow your example of focusing on the positive and reaching out to others, as the best way of overcoming my own weaknesses.

Pres. Hinckley, thank you for your unfailing testimony. I shall always fondly think of you whenever I sing your hymn text (#135):

I know that my Redeemer lives,
Triumphant Savior, Son of God,
Victorious over pain and death,
My King, my Leader, and my Lord.

He lives, my one sure rock of faith,
The one bright hope of men on earth,
The beacon to a better way,
The light beyond the veil of death.

Oh, give me thy sweet Spirit still,
The peace that comes alone from thee,
The faith to walk the lonely road
That leads to thine eternity.

And Pres. Hinckley, may I add a fourth verse, just for you?

You dear, dear man for whom we'll miss,
The loving words and gentle smile,
'Go forth with faith,' to eternal bliss--
Our parting's but a little while.


God bless us all to 'Stand For Something.'
Thank you, Pres. Hinckley for showing me the good way.

Your friend and brother,
Gecko

Release Me

I feel bad I've been so quiet lately. It's been hard to want to sit down and write anything. With nothing really happening in my job search, I have little motivation to share no-news, and even less desire to bitch and moan over my predicament. Not much else seems to matter except where the next buck is going to come from for the mortgage payment, or trying to stay focused on interviews and keeping new applications going out. Granted, I've had several good triggers to write about over the past month with the holidays and all, but with kids home from BYU for two weeks, I was cautious to be too involved or open with the family computer, so I basically ignored the urge to blog. I hope everyone had warm holidays and I wish us all an even better new year.

But this last Sunday things unexpectedly changed, and now I've got another reason to write. No, I don't have a new job, I'm not moving, but the sky fell for me a little bit. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. I told my Bishop a while back that he should start looking for my replacement in the Young Men President calling I've held for the last couple years. Yet I was unprepared emotionally for being released, especially with the justification that he was inspired to call someone else. (So you mean, the Lord doesn't want me to do this any more?) Well actually, I know his intentions were to relieve pressure on me for decisions ahead, but I'll miss the leadership opportunities. However, I'll stay on as an advisor to the Priest's Quorum. So I was a little surprised at myself, that I had such a hard time during Sacrament meeting, getting all choked up through most the hymns. My feelings were right there on the surface, and my wife just squeezed my hand and somehow we mumbled the words together in a mixture of gratitude and pain. I don't want to go. I don't want to lose my boys, these wonderful young men I've grown to love, as they grow up and prepare for missions and life ahead. Even though this is just a baby step of separation, I know it's coming and it's really tough.

I had prepared a lesson, which I also managed to deliver 'raw' on emotion. Basically, I was calling them out for not listening to my lesson two weeks ago, for taking the scriptures for granted, and just sliding by with their faith. It needed to be said, whether or not I was leaving. I dramatically read them the entire chapter of 2 Nephi 32, exhorting them to pray always and seek the spirit. You should read this out loud to yourself sometime; it is powerful. They will probably go a long while before they have another priesthood lesson as tearful or impassioned! And all this was in front of the new YM Pres! Can I show my face ever again? Yeah, I guess so. The young men were quiet and much more in tune to what I was saying this week; I hope they felt the same spirit I was feeling and trying so hard to show them. I thank God for including the young men in my journey at this time in my life. He is wise beyond words, and He has been there for me in my reaching.

Core Competencies

I'm now coming up on 3 months of unemployment. I never dreamed this seeking a new job would be so slow or agonizing a process. I thought I had such an attractive resume that, like every other time I've considered a new opportunity, companies would jump at the chance to hire me. And it's humbling to realize that it will probably be sometime next year before anything happens like a job offer. Selling a car to pay the mortgage and getting food from the Bishop's storehouse is just the way it has to be for now, so I'll deal with it, grudgingly.

This time around I want the next job to be my last career move, if possible. I don't want to make a mistake in joining a company I can't truly support with my passions or fit into their culture. I know more about what type of opportunity I want, so I'm picky. It's true that I'm not getting any younger and I've got potential liabilities. I've hopped around a lot of companies, I've pushed my career to do innovative things, and I'm a creative who doesn't like to be 'managed.' Whoever hires me will do so at a cost for such skills and experience. I'm not generic; I'm specialized. So, I shouldn't be surprised or impatient that it is taking time to get it right.

Recently I was contacted by a retained recruiter for a technical executive position with a new company and brand that will be coming out into the marketplace. I was excited by the potential to make a real contribution and possibly see my dreams come true with an innovative product technology that I've been developing for years. The recruiter was impressed with my resume and seeming fit with the position requirements, so he asked that I prepare a one-page "Core Competency" brief. He sent me a couple examples from other people he had worked with, and at first, as I read through them, I thought, "I'm not good enough. I haven't done this level of work." But then I put those fears aside and decided to list what I thought my own career and personal strengths were. This was an empowering exercise. I settled on eight core competencies, and then began to fill in details which demonstrated my experience or skill with each attribute. By the time I was finished, I wasn't feeling inadequate at all, rather, I felt like I had substance, was more than worthwhile, and that a company would be greatly benefited by my joining their talent pool.

The recruiter was quite pleased with the writing and content of my Core Competency brief, and selected me as a finalist in a slate of three candidates for the position. I was flattered. But to his dismay, when he went to present to the company, they informed him they had found a person on their own and would not need his services. So this was another disappointment, but at least it got me to think about the important qualifiers of my experience and how this has shaped me into the valuable resource that I will be in my next position.

How often do we take such stock in ourselves? Starting with humility, looking at weaknesses and then at strengths, we come to understanding and satisfaction. Thank God I'm an optimist, and most days I choose to see potential and the good in myself and others. It is a conscious choice, one that is not always easy, and one that I don't always do. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and lose my light of confidence, but I can always go to my Father, find the match of desire and relight my candle of faith. Such is the time for now.

'Weak things' Become Strong

Earlier this month, our Gentlefriend voiced these sentiments:

"My SGA is a unique mortal gift to make the most of. I must frequently remind myself of the good qualities it has given me. Navigation within the complex forces of marriage and Church membership can draw out the best that is within me. I am challenged to develop compassion and spiritual sensitivity. I get tired and discouraged and many times get off course, but then, in the midst of the tempest when the sweet Spirit whispers, "Peace, be still", I am reminded that He knows the way and will guide me Home if I let Him."

Also at this Thanksgiving time, Beck paused to count his blessings, and expressed a similar recognition:

"Instead of bemoaning that I'm a gay man trapped in a hetero life where things don't add up right, I am grateful for the "gifts" I've been given, the "talents" that God has granted me, and the knowledge of Him whereby I can use these talents and magnify them as I seek to follow His plan. I do not bemoan that I am gay. . . I may not have a trail guide, but I have the Spirit, and I'm grateful for those promptings to keep me on the path. This is a tender mercy. "

I have been thinking similar thoughts lately. There is so much about my gayness that I have grown to appreciate and am now thankful for. I have come to realize that much of my orientation is reflected in a unique set of personality traits, most of which are really not sexually operative one way or the other. I acknowledge that throughout my life I am and have been:

• Attracted to men, and admire the masculine hero
  
• Desire connection and fraternity with men
• Stimulated by the power of the male form
  
• Hunger for intimacy and acceptance by men
• Spiritually dependent on Priesthood power
  
• Desire to be open and loving, to serve others
  
• Emotionally sensitive and vulnerable
  
• Empathetic to all forms of suffering and injustice
  
• Willing to be on the edge and question everything
• Artistic, creative and musically talented
  
• Lover of beauty and design
  
• Detail oriented and a perfectionist
• Generous and forgiving
  
• Domestic

So what's wrong or inferior with any of this? Nothing!! Certainly not by LDS church standards. Now I know that all these characteristics do not uniquely qualify me to be gay or otherwise, and there are lots of gay men who possess other sets of qualities. But for me, I saw these attributes in myself conform to what I considered to be stereotypically gay, weak vulnerabilities, especially when combined with my lack of arousal towards women, my non-aggressive nature and a non-muscle-bound uncoordinated body I felt frankly embarrassed with. I often longed to be someone else, a stronger man, more physical, secure and confident. I discounted many of my personal characteristics as largely feminine and secretly wished for a set of more macho traits of 'manliness' that I simply was not. I lived in regret, because I was not a perfect man. But now I've come to respect my wiring and circuitry. I've decided to no longer feel apologetic or inadequate for what I consider to be my 'gay' attributes. Like Gentlefriend and Beck, I have come to value my unique gifts.

And then a surprising thing happened to me: as I truly accepted this 'gay list' in myself, I began feeling very much more male and more connected in my brotherhood with all men. I don't have to sexualize every hunk of a man to wonder if I measure up; I may look twice at an attractive guy, but it is admiration of beauty, not longing or lust. Even though I never really believed that raw masculinity was the mark of true manhood, I allowed myself to be deluded and demoted by my insecurities. But no more! Screw all that mamsy-pamsy thinking! I'm just as good a man as anyone else, even if I don't particularly care for team sports or fast cars or sexy women. And if anyone thinks, "That's so gay," well then, let them. I can live with it. I can live with love in my heart for even the intolerant.

Being 'gay' by most standards involves a physicality that is more than characteristics of how we view and interact with the world around us. Sure, there are sexual aspects to my gayness that will never be realized because of my choice for fidelity to my wife and family and the church. I try not to dwell on the sex inherent in gay lifestyle. It's just a part of being gay that I cannot do. The world and the church react most negatively to the sexual intimacy between same sexes. But I choose to love and respect my brothers who are there though, and my hope for them is to live their lives with joy and love. I'm happy to let the Lord work out the details of their eternal lives, knowing that I am not a worthy judge, nor should I try to understand the end from the beginning. I believe true love is good enough for me and anyone else committed to faithfulness and devotion, regardless of the religious lens or culture people live in.

This brings me to the sweet and universal sentiment expressed by Elder Wirthlin in his most recent General Conference, who speaks of personal transformation by the power of love:

"True love lasts forever. It is eternally patient and forgiving. It believes, hopes, and endures all things. That is the love our Heavenly Father bears for us.

We all yearn to experience love like this. Even when we make mistakes, we hope others will love us in spite of our shortcomings—even if we don’t deserve it.

Oh, it is wonderful to know that our Heavenly Father loves us—even with all our flaws! His love is such that even should we give up on ourselves, He never will.

We see ourselves in terms of yesterday and today. Our Heavenly Father sees us in terms of forever. Although we might settle for less, Heavenly Father won’t, for He sees us as the glorious beings we are capable of becoming.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of transformation. It takes us as men and women of the earth and refines us into men and women for the eternities.

The most cherished and sacred moments of our lives are those filled with the spirit of love. The greater the measure of our love, the greater is our joy. In the end, the development of such love is the true measure of success in life.

Do you love the Lord?"

And here, I think lies the quintessential question to living gay in the world and the LDS Church. Can we answer it honestly? I must confess, "Yea Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." (John 21:16). My life of perceived weakness has become much stronger, as I focus with faith on the God-given gifts bestowed upon me. I have the love of God in my heart for all men, and I am not ashamed to feel weakly male any longer. I can feed His sheep with the talents He has blessed me, according to His direction, and shall no longer be afraid of who I am or what I might accomplish with His love.

Of all the aspects of my belief that I am most sure of, because of my experience in living with conscious faith, it is that I know Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me, the little Geckoman. And since they first loved me, I love them (1 John 4:19). And since I truly love them, then I am blessed to love others in the way I know the Lord loves me, which is as a gay man, a son of the true and living God.