A Healthy Change of Perspective

I took the dog outside like I do every night before bed.  And like every other night during this mundane chore, I wasn’t expecting to have a life-changing moment of clarity.  In the span of just a couple minutes, and after a chance encounter with my neighbor, I would go back in the house with a significant change of heart.

My neighbor, we’ll call him Jake, is gay.  He moved in with his fiancée, we’ll call him Marcus, into the house next to ours several months ago.  Before we would officially meet, I found out that my new neighbor Jake was someone I knew from my childhood.  Our fathers worked together for an insurance company and played on the company volleyball team every year.  My wife and I would occasionally see Jake and Marcus coming or going from the house and would politely exchange cordial greetings.  I didn’t go out of my way to welcome them to the neighborhood, not because they were gay, but because I rather enjoy keeping to myself.  In fact, we still don’t know the names of more than two families on our block…and we’ve lived here for six and a half years!

On this particular night, Jake was having a cigarette before he undoubtedly was about to call it a night himself.  I said hello to him and he struck up a conversation about our newly manicured lawn as he jokingly said, “You’re making us look bad!”  My wife had organized a work day with several friends from church to help us with a few yard work projects that needed done but that I could not complete due to my severe back condition.  We exchanged further pleasantries and had a nice, albeit short, chat.

As he said goodnight and headed into the house, I thought quite out-of-the-blue, “would I treat Jake differently if I didn’t know he was gay?”

Let me be clear that, as a Christian, I believe and stand up for my belief that God created marriage to be between a man and a woman.  I have posted dozens of comments on social media about this issue that a lot of people, even well-meaning believers, don’t agree with.  But this post isn’t going to be a political one about gay rights, equality, or tolerance.  I am facing the issue of homosexuality for the first time with compassion.

Because of my upbringing in a Christian home and taught the moral standards and the biblical building of character, I like to think that I treat everyone with respect when I first meet them.  I am polite and kind to everyone I have the pleasure of spending time with, because that’s how I would want people to treat me.

The Bible says that “the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control; against such things there is no law [Galatians 5:22-23].”  While the Bible says that sexual immorality (including homosexuality), impurity, and sensuality are works of the flesh [Galatians 5:19], I believe that I am still instructed to love those sexual immoral.

Topeka, Kansas is synonymous with the Westboro Baptist Church.  They are a cult of family members who preach their version of love with hate messages toward homosexuals and take the Bible out of context to bend to their beliefs that God will rain his vengeance upon them.  They must have missed the part of the Bible that says God will judge ALL sinners in due time.  They “preach” the Old Testament but they forget about Jesus and the impact he had in speaking real truth to sinners for the sake of their salvation.  Westboro Baptist members picket memorial services of those who served in the military because they fought and died for a country that condones homosexuality.  Where’s the love in that?

1 Corinthians 13:1-3 says “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. [2] And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. [3] If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.”  I realized that up to this point I had the same disdain toward homosexuals and wanted nothing to do with befriending them or speaking truth to them.  I did not love them.

When I came back inside after my dog had done her business, I sat at my computer to watch a movie before I turned in.  Looking through my database of movies I decided to watch ‘Philadelphia,’ a movie about an exceptional gay lawyer (played by Tom Hanks) who was wrongfully fired from his job after he began showing signs of AIDS.  After contacting nine different lawyers and being turned down by each of them, he met with Denzel Washington’s character who also denied him services.  Eventually, he had a change of heart and helped the gay lawyer win his case, learning a lot about himself and his perception of the “alternate lifestyle.”

To Jesus, sin is sin.  He died on the cross for all sin.  My sins are not worse or better than the sin of homosexuality, but God still loves me.  And the same is true for those who practice same-sex relationships.  I could relate to Denzel Washington’s character in ‘Philadelphia’ to some degree; but by the end of the movie I had progressed with him as the portrayal of both men changed my perception of homosexuals and I felt great compassion for Tom Hanks’ character.

You don’t have to sacrifice your spiritual, moral, or ethical beliefs in order to love someone who believes differently than you.  It is possible to speak truth to them in love, just as the Bible instructs us to do.  This night of revelation was a huge turning point for me, and I hope that you will take a minute to recognize what preconceived notions you have against people different than you before you start casting stones.

Bless and be blessed, my friends.

"just listen"

sun moon rises
sing sweet surprises
wise disguises cover your eyes are
blue my skies are gray
kiss my pain
till the pain runs away
dark poem writer
doubt love - fire
you see in me
you see not me
i'm a two-faced liar
a lover pretender
gaze in the mirror
you beg to differ
life worthless be ruthless
experiences unchanged
memories unpaved
remember gut feeling
recall love living
inside of me
one time
i felt needed
but now just used
felt once i loved you
but now too soon
or too late
my hate i restate
my face i retrace
remember how cute i was
comedy catcher - laugh
star gazer
dreamer of things to come
emotional seeker
passionate looker
searching for things today
remove my depression
understand my confession
and maybe you'll surrender
to my lonely obsession
for love in those blue eyes
turn my gray skies
into happiness - smile
sun moon sets
this time i regret
my true feelings were never told
too cold
to be so alone
just tuck me in
and say you love me
kiss goodnight
light turned off
hope not lost
not today
thank you for just listening

published in washburn university's literary magaine "zietgest" in 1999

 I wrote the poem above in about 15-20 minutes in '97-'98, my senior year of high school.  It is a self-portrait piece that remains my personal favorite because it is in a style unlike anything I had written up to this point.  It is the first to have no capitalization or punctuation because I wanted the focus to be on the words, not whether a line was properly written under the rules of the English language.  To this day, I rarely use punctuation or capitalization.

If ever you were curious why my http address is 'burntpoetsbio.blogspot.com,' it is a surname that I created for my poetic persona as a teenager.  During those years of searching for my wife (I jokingly believe that I wanted not a girlfriend but a wife since 7th grade), I had some short relationships and had my heart broken many times.  I became jaded and thought, "Just like fire, if you play with love too long you'll eventually get burned.  And I'm burnt."  Thankfully, I am now happily married with a beautiful little girl but somehow the name 'burntpoet' stuck.  I only use it for my poetry.

I hope you enjoyed getting to know me through my first of two self-portrait poems I'll be posting.

Bless and be blessed, my friends!

My "Come to Jesus" Moment - Testimony Part I

I came to know Christ at a young age around 11.  Meaning, I spoke "The Sinner's Prayer" that adult's teach when one repents of their sins and asks God to forgive that sin (past, present, and future). They recognize and believe in their heart that Jesus died on the cross for them and welcomes him into their heart so that they can spend eternity in heaven.  I, like many young believers before me, felt like this was the only way to get to heaven.  Which is absolutely true (John 3:16-17); but I became a Christian out of fear....not love and obedience.  Fear of going to hell, not love for God.

Because I was a young boy with very little understanding at all what it meant to follow Jesus, I did not see a drastic change of heart or felt any different.  Heck, I was only 11 and therefore hadn't lived long enough to experience my very "sinful" nature!  I believed that he was dwelling in me just like he said he would (Romans 8:8-10).  Since I was taught that the only thing I needed to do was recognize my sin and ask God for forgiveness, I never really gave it much thought.

Until I was about 14.

My family lived in Topeka, Kansas almost all of my life.  I was born in Wichita, Kansas but moved here when my dad got a new job when I was maybe 14 months old.  Topeka was all I knew and, whether it was because I--along with my older brother and younger sister--were so close in age that we didn't travel well together or because my folks just didn't like to travel at all, we never saw much of anything other than the state capitol.

On this particular day, however, my mom loaded all of us kids into the car and headed to Kansas City where we were to pick up my dad from a business trip.  Even though it was probably only about an hour and 30 minutes to KCI, it felt like an eternity to a car full of preteens.  It didn't help either that my mom got lost--twice--on the way there.  She tried taking us to St. Louis, Missouri but realized her mistake shortly after taking the wrong exit.  I calmly guided her back onto the highway and instructed her how to get back on the highway to try again.  Then, she missed the airport exit and we were heading toward North Kansas City.  My mom loves this part of the story because she said that I was her "angel" keeping her calm during a most stressful time, and it's the part of the story I most often forget to include.

You see, my part of the story hadn't happened yet.

We arrived at the terminal where my dad's plane would be taxied to.  Even as I write this, I recall this being my first time at the airport.  My brother and I were so amped up to get out of the car that, once the car stopped, we unbuckled our seat belts and literally jumped out of our seat!  My older brother and I, only separated in age by a year and 7 months, was extremely competitive growing up.  I looked at the terminal from across the parking lot and looked at him.

"Race ya," I said, excited.
"You're on!" he answered back, and sprinted toward the gate to the lot from where we came.

In the split second he started running, I saw a grassy hill beyond a concrete wall across the parking lot that would be an excellent short cut.  "If I get enough speed and plant my foot on the top of that wall and jump down to the hill, I could beat him."

This is the part of the story that makes my mom a bit weak in the knees.

I didn't have much time to waste, so I start running toward the wall.  My arms are pumping, my legs are flying and I'm tasting victory--which later on realize is just sweat from my forehead.  I couldn't wait to rub it in my brother's face that he never noticed the short cut, declaring me the winner!  He wasn't going to be able to boss me around after this!

And before I knew it, I wasn't running anymore.  I was stopped dead in my tracks.  I did not understand what was happening!  I was going to lose!!

I stood there, all alone, for what seemed like forever.  In reality, maybe only 20 to 30 seconds had passed.  Not only were my legs no longer carrying me in a full sprint, my mind started to shift from "I'm going to lose" to "why aren't I running?"  Very quickly I realized that something very strange was happening.  I felt the inclination to see what was beyond the wall.

Slowly, very cautiously, I approached the concrete hurdle.  Each step making me more and more nervous.  I began to sweat again, but now out of curiosity and fear.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brother running through the gate and onto the road that circles in front of the terminal.  By this time, I don't care about losing.  I needed to know why I had stopped running.

I got to the wall and peered over.  My brain had a hard time processing it at first.  But once it did, my knees buckled and I sat against the wall, visibly shaking.

I was staring down at least a 3- or 4-story drop, with a concrete patio connecting a walkway to the parking garage below us.  My mom had parked on the top level.  Because I had never been to the airport before, I thought it was just a parking lot.  Every other time we've ever parked the car was in a parking lot.  It was in that moment that I knew what, or rather who, stopped me.

The Holy Spirit, God Himself, stopped my legs that day to save me from what I believe was certain death.  There is no other explanation that you could offer me that I would possibly believe.  My heart was intent on winning the race.  My legs were pointed toward that wall, in a full sprint, completely prepared to vault off the top of the wall onto the grassy hill.  I could visualize it all.  Nothing except God could possibly have stopped me.

As I was contemplating my "near-death experience," my little sister came up behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder.  "Are you okay?" she asked softly.  I couldn't speak yet.  All I could do was push myself up, bracing my body against hers for stability in case my knees gave way again.  My voice cracked and barely audible, I managed "I was going to jump over that wall."

Readers, if you are not a believer in God, a personal God who cares about a relationship with you enough to send His only Son to die in your place so that you may one day see Him sitting on His throne for eternity, I tell you this story that you might know that YES, in fact He does!  And fellow brothers and sisters, I am not at all suggesting that if you never have a moment like this than you are not a true Christian.  I am simply sharing my story.

A story that doesn't end here.  A story that doesn't end until I'm in heaven with my Creator.

(artwork "Saul's Conversion" by Michael Mize)

Welcome! Nice to Meet You!

I always held a certain amount of pride when it comes to meeting new people and building new friendships.  Actually, if I was being totally honest, my shyness and social awkwardness didn't start wearing off until I was 24 years old.  But wouldn't you know it, by that time a lot of people I ran into already had their close-knit group of friends that it became rather difficult to infiltrate their social circle.  That is not, however, why I began this blog.

I have been encouraged lately to begin writing a blog to document my journey through chronic pain because of disc degeneration disease in my lower back.  As a 33-year-old man with lots of energy, having a debilitating condition leaves little room for strenuous activity whether it be through recreational hobbies, household chores and yard work, or simply walking a couple blocks down the street.  I didn't necessarily want my first blog to be confined to only talking about my pain because there is so much more to me than just this battle for mobility.  It is a huge part of my life that I must face daily.  However, to only talk about my pain journey only serves to define me as the pain...to lessen my identity down to my condition.

As God as my judge, He created me to be more than that.  I am not my pain nor the symptoms of it!  I am a child of God, a follower of Christ! And I believe that it is my calling to use the gift of writing to encourage, inspire, and help those who may also be struggling.  Whether you are faced with physical or mental anguish as I, curious to know more about Jesus because you have yet to meet him or are doubting your faith, or if you simply just want to read and follow along life's journey with me, then I invite you to prayerfully consider subscribing to this blog.

My prayer for you is that you will be encouraged by my stories, inspired by my writing, and blessed by my testimonies.  After all, I'm not writing this blog for myself but for each of you!  I hope you will find many gems within these posts throughout the coming months and years (however long I can faithfully keep up with them) for your own life's journey, in order that you can smile in the face of uncertainty and begin each day with a new hope.  A hope that says "I'm not alone."  A hope that can only be found by the grace of God.

Walk with me into the great unknown!!

Bless and be blessed, my friends!!