Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are of God; for many false prophets have gone out into the world. 2 By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit which confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God, 3 and every spirit which does not confess Jesus is not of God. This is the spirit of antichrist, of which you heard that it was coming, and now it is in the world already.
~ 1 John 4:1‒3 (RSVCE)
Hello everyone,
It’s painful for me to even consider writing this piece—as I know it may be deemed heretical in the eyes of many of my most devout Protestant and Catholic friends and family alike—but over this past summer, I have been experiencing severe psychological, emotional and spiritual burnout. Although I will add that I have been mentally planning to write such an op-ed as this one for at least a year’s time now.
But just a few months prior, many were expecting me to take a magical leap of faith as I had finally decided to go to my very first Confession in a Roman Catholic setting—despite being raised a Pentecostal Protestant. Of course, if Confession wasn’t intimidating enough, then taking the Eucharist should be even more so. Because if there is one thing Catholics are doctrinally right about, it’s that they earnestly and honestly look at the Host (bread) and wine as more than mere symbols of Christ’s body and blood.
You’re supposed to be different and be a little weird. It’s not a bad thing, we’re not meant to be the same.
~ Christina Grimmie
Hi guys,
I know I had previously announced that I would stop writing for a while, but something very tragic that happened barely less than 72 hours ago broke my fragile heart and made me scream horrendously inside. During what had seemed like another Saturday morning soon turned into my weekend of perpetual darkness and grief as I had read that Christina Grimmie was shot and killed by a man who had purported to hate Christians.
An article in The Santa Monica Observer displays the following headline:
“Crime may be investigated as a hate crime. The Voice singer was outspoken in her Christian faith” [1]
Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel.[b] Curds and honey He shall eat, that He may know to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the Child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land that you dread will be forsaken by both her kings.
~ Isaiah 7:14 ‒ 16 (NKJV)
Aside from Easter, Lent, Chinese New Year and the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Holidays have always been my favourite time of year. As a child, I remember cherishing every Christmas Day morning, waking up to see presents sitting under the tree, and Christmas evening, reflecting on the birth of the Christ child and His nativity.
Every year, I also commemorate and celebrate my own birthday, with family beside me. But as the years go by, my birthday wishes have graciously evolved with me. Instead of asking Santa Claus for the latest toy, computer game, or DVD, I have increasingly taken the time to think about college (and my life after it), my finances and the future.
And… to be honest with you, the future is a very scary afterthought.
With my family putting the same expectations on me since I was that little boy sitting around our gargantuan TV in the family room, watching Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer,Frosty the Snowman, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and of course, Phineas and Ferb’s Christmas Vacation (a nod to Peanuts as well)—every Christmas seems to feel more burdensome.
Had the inspiration to write this while thinking of something catchy and jingly in my sleep this morning. Yes, I sleep-write and think too. A one-shot poem that I originally was thinking of turning into a rap. Enjoy! 😀
If I had come out sooner, four years ago, what would you have said?
Would you have embraced me, or shook your head in dismay?
Roll your eyes disgustingly, and yell, “Be gone filthy sinner! You are no longer welcome to stay!”
As I would have curled up into a minuscule ball and cry,
We can use our own pain to understand the pain of all living beings. Having learned to accept our own suffering patiently, if we then think of the suffering of all the other living beings trapped in samsara, compassion will arise naturally.
~ Geshe Kelsang Gyatso
ELEVEN MONTHS AGO, I HAD ENOUGH. Enough of suppressing a deeply hurtful part of my soul—equal to the pain of knowing I have and live with cerebral palsy, each and every single day. My mom first skimmed through my Aiming for Inclusion column last October, after receiving a copy in her e-mail. She was appalled to see the Phinerb artwork I had posted. It was then, on one Sunday afternoon, October 20, 2013, we finally sat down and talked things out for over an hour regarding my bi-romantic/bisexual attractions.
IN HIGH SCHOOL, as many other young adolescent teens are during this time, I began to feel an emotional admiration for classmates and friends of both genders—males and females alike. My freshman year, I met a boy whom I only once briefly met in the 7th grade during a small group therapy counseling session with our guidance counselor. You can imagine the look on his face as I glanced over at him for the very first time—small beady eyes, a warm, gentle grin and sunny disposition. I was somehow entranced, but dared not say anything except for a simple “Hi” and a gentle wave of the hand. When we finally briefly re-connected in high school, I nearly fell in love with him—or so I naively thought. Fast forward ahead many years into the near future. After many long hiatuses of not communicating back and forth online ever since Tim and his mom moved out to Texas in February 2008, one May evening one year ago, I decided to muster up the strength to tell him the truth about how I really felt about him all this time, and how much I’ve missed him so. “Tim, I love you. I really do.”
On September the 11th, enemies of freedom committed an act of war against our country. Americans have known wars — but for the past 136 years, they have been wars on foreign soil, except for one Sunday in 1941. Americans have known the casualties of war — but not at the center of a great city on a peaceful morning. Americans have known surprise attacks — but never before on thousands of civilians. All of this was brought upon us in a single day — and night fell on a different world, a world where freedom itself is under attack.[1]
~ Former President George W. Bush in his Address to the Joint Session of the 107th Congress (September 20, 2001)
CONTRARY TO THE VIEWS expressed by the mainstream media, the notion of Islamophobia—the irrational fear of the beliefs and institutions of the Muslim faith—did not first enter the modern American psyche on September 11, 2001. Rather, it occurred decades before my time, back in the late ’70s and early ’80s when Ronald Reagan was in the Oval Office.
Former President George W. Bush’s now famous declaration of ‘a war on terror’ is in fact a continuation of his father’s legacy, Mr. [George] Herbert Walker Bush and Mr. Reagan respectively before him, not an initiation, despite what my current generation of Millennials may presume to think.
Three years ago, within weeks of saying goodbye to my fellow graduating upper classmen of the Class of 2010, I struck up a conversation with one of my few close Muslim friends Adam S. one afternoon. Initially sharing my profoundly educated knowledge and understanding of the fundamentals of his own faith with him, I somehow eventually felt emotionally provoked to painfully, but honestly scream the statement, “Nevertheless, I still believe that Muslims are terrorists.”
I could observe the deep remorse and pain in his face as I declared it. As I would later solemnly apologize, I restated that my motive was not to label every Muslim person walking around as a terrorist, as clearly that would be irrational, not to mention, unethical.
I also want to speak tonight directly to Muslims throughout the world. We respect your faith. It’s practiced freely by many millions of Americans, and by millions more in countries that America counts as friends. Its teachings are good and peaceful, and those who commit evil in the name of Allah blaspheme the name of Allah. The terrorists are traitors to their own faith, trying, in effect, to hijack Islam itself. The enemy of America is not our many Muslim friends; it is not our many Arab friends. Our enemy is a radical network of terrorists, and every government that supports them….
Americans are asking, why do they hate us? They hate what we see right here in this chamber — a democratically elected government. Their leaders are self-appointed. They hate our freedoms — our freedom of religion, our freedom of speech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other.[2]
Former President George W. Bush couldn’t have said it more clear-cut or more precise, as his words still ring true nearly a decade after the attacks. Nevertheless, despite his best-suited intentions, we still have yet to fully recover from the damage left behind in a post-war Iraq and Afghanistan, and there are still questions that are left to be answered. Most importantly, if and when, the nations of the Middle East, and the people living there can ever accept the notion of executing democratic principles, not in the names of liberty, freedom or equality, but swiftly with mercy and grace.
In recent years, ideological Islamophobia has resurged with the controversy of constructing Park51 two blocks from Ground Zero in New York[3] and Pastor Terry Jones purposely burning a copy of the Koran two years ago at his church in Gainesville, Florida.[4]
As a fellow Christian, I again would like to apologize to the worldwide Muslim community if there are people among us who use hate and fear to evangelize our beliefs on the rest of the world.
The Great Commission
Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, to the mountain which Jesus had appointed for them. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some doubted.
And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the very end of the age.” Amen.
~ Matthew 28:16 – 20 (NKJV)
If we are indeed human, wouldn’t we also share the same resentment and hurt if other rogue parties were to target and ransack our churches, desecrate our icons of Christ and the Cross, and shred our Bibles? As history proves to humanity repeatedly, violence can only beget violence, no matter what one’s faith.
Which evidently, brings me to Syria…
Although President Obama has identified Tuesday night President Bashar al-Assad’s government in the involvement and usage of chemical weapons against the Syrian people, he also agrees not to send troops to intervene in Syria:
First, many of you have asked, won’t this put us on a slippery slope to another war? One man wrote to me that we are “still recovering from our involvement in Iraq.” A veteran put it more bluntly: “This nation is sick and tired of war.”
My answer is simple: I will not put American boots on the ground in Syria. I will not pursue an open-ended action like Iraq or Afghanistan. I will not pursue a prolonged air campaign like Libya or Kosovo. This would be a targeted strike to achieve a clear objective: deterring the use of chemical weapons, and degrading Assad’s capabilities.[5]
His overall message resonates with me, and echoes a similar overtone several of my other politically inclined friends on Facebook have recently been discussing in the last few weeks regarding Assad’s Syria:
Whatever we do over there, I believe it’s just going to fuel the fire and make matters more complicated. Whenever we drop bombs, people get killed – guilty and innocent both. This fuels the fire of the Muslim’s already present hatred of us and it will do it until the end of time. We can’t bribe real friends. And we can’t intimidate them to be our friends by bombing who we deem as “bad guys.”
We’ve spent hundreds of billions, if not more, in bombing middle-east “bad guys” the past decade, and lost some 8,500 Americans. Does the US really need to keep bankrupting itself and putting lives and weapons on the line in yet another country? When will moral policing end?
We went into Iraq, partially under the pretense of helping the people Saddam used chemical weapons against. And what a disaster going into Iraq has been. And if we go into Syria, even with just drones (as if that’s no big thing), I still think we will end up with a bigger mess of which we may have to help clean-up.
And we haven’t even talked about who we’re helping by going after Assad: Al-Nusra, the al Qaeda wing in Syria.
I think the Founders, as the saying goes, are rolling over in their graves at the sight of how many countries our government is involved in.[6]
~ Chris Wright, expressing his opinions on the possibility of American military intervention in Syria
Going off Chris’ points directly here, first of all, I agree with everything he writes. As I voice my thoughts in a different Facebook comment thread with another fellow Mormon, Josh Roundy, I make a firm statement that coincidentally enough, reiterates the same points Chris outlines above:
I am not saying don’t help or support the children of Syria. We should in theory, help all, refugee and rebel alike. But I personally find it very emotionally and psychologically unsettling when one regime dominates the mainstream voice in the political and social discourse, as in the case of said Islamists and the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt.[7]
As for the actual children of Syria, here is the first of a series of clips I have painstakingly nitpicked from browsing and watching Youtube news on the conflict for months now.
This next one documents wounds two boys have sustained from a shelling in a neighborhood in Homs, dated April 2012:
*Contains some graphic/bloody imagery. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
I’ll be honest here folks. I trembled and even wanted to cry as I glanced at the doctors removing the first boy’s clothes and examining his wounds as he cries aloud in fear, and tears. My heart cannot ever properly express the sorrow I feel tremendously every time I watch videos of this content and nature, especially when there’s children involved.
To help tell the story of one family siding with the Free Syrian Army rebels in the bustling city of Aleppo, and one boy’s experience of wanting to go to school to earn his education despite living in a war zone, here is Ibrahim’s War courtesy of Journeyman Pictures.
Trust me, this film will move you in ways you couldn’t imagine of being moved:
As for the Christians of Syria, many of us are now learning that rebel forces are attempting to seize total control of the small mountainous community of Ma’loula (Maaloula).[8]
The local residents seem to gravely fear this predicament because it could inevitably give the rebels more legroom towards not only riling the authority of Assad’s regime, but also sparking further clashing of ideologies and religions in the process. Surprisingly, both Muslims and Christians previously living in the town, who are now fleeing the area due to the nature of the attacks, collectively agree that they have lived together side by side in mutual peace for years.[9]
Ma’loula is also home to one of the most well preserved sanctuaries of the modern-day variant of Aramaic, presumably to be the tongue of the historic Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ.
And as the documentary describes, director Mel Gibson—who is indeed a devout Roman Catholic and directed the now worldwide sensation The Passion of the Christ—even took some civil and historic liberties of helping to carefully reconstruct the form of ancient Aramaic that Jesus and his followers spoke in his heyday, as accurately as possible.
This ensures that there are people who are currently not only proactively determined in trying to save an essential Biblical language from the near brink of extinction. It ensures that history can be rediscovered, relived, and continue to live on in the present day for the world’s nearly 3.6 – 3.8 billion adherents of the major Abrahamic faiths, all of which, coincidentally, have their origins in the Middle East.[10]
But regardless of our faith or our politics, 9/11 isn’t just a day when our country was attacked by Muslim extremists. It isn’t a day to start pointing the finger of hypocrisy and shame at our neighbors and condemn them as terrorists.
9/11 was, and is a day when religion and politics simultaneously intertwined and crossed paths once more, as a rallying wake-up call for all of us to reconsider how we approach sensitive topics surrounding our everyday religious confrontations, and the benefits and dangers of exploring both fundamentalism and liberal theologies and theocracies alike.
And remember: Muslims can be your friends too.
“O son of Adam, it is better for you if you spend your surplus (wealth), but if you withhold it, it is evil for you. There is (however) no reproach for you (if you withhold means necessary) for a living. And begin (charity) with your dependants; and the upper hand is better than the lower hand.” [11]
~ The Prophet Muhammad, Muslim hadith
*Original thanks to my good friend Marwan Mogaddedi for posting this verse on his Facebook three weeks ago.
“But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. Whoever hits you on the cheek, offer him the other also; and whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either. Give to everyone who asks of you, and whoever takes away what is yours, do not demand it back. Treat others the same way you want them to treat you…”
~ Jesus of Nazareth, an excerpt from The Sermon on the Plain, Luke 6:27 – 31 (NASB)
God bless everyone and Ahlan wa Sahlan my friends. #NeverForget 😀
Jesus calls us to have empathy, compassion and an open heart for all human beings. Not just people who follow Him. Not just Christians. Not just believers. Not just straight people. BUT EVERYONE. And this includes gay people. They are your neighbors, too. So if we are to follow what Jesus is asking of us, we MUST demand that gay people have the right to marry. Why? Because to NOT do so would not be loving them as we love ourselves. And that would make us hypocrites pretending to love Jesus.
~ Mastin Kapp, an excerpt from Why Jesus Loves LGBT People and Gay Marriage Doesn’t Exist (July 31, 2012)
IT ALL STARTED WITH A SIMPLE HI AND A HANDSHAKE.
“Hi I’m Josh.”
“Hey I’m Trevor. Nice to meet you.”
Somehow, in a matter of less than two minutes, I mustered up the courage to ask the dire question, “Hey, are you gay?”
A whirlpool of mixed emotions and sweat swirled inside my head and all over my body as I tried to find those four simple words. Intellectually, it’s one of the world’s most easiest questions to ask someone, but in a culture where gays are still being stigmatized and dehumanized as second-class citizens, Trevor was the first gay man I had ever met in person—and by sheer coincidence too.
The day was Monday, September 24, 2012, the time about 12:50 in the afternoon. While touring various booths at my community college’s Transfer Fair event last Fall and after talking to other admissions counselors about their programs, I approached one of the last booths I did not visit yet for the day.
Sporting a short, spiky haircut, big eyes, and awesome shiny teeth, and donning a UC Berkeley alumni T-shirt, Trevor reaches out a hand as I proceed to shake it and at first shakily state my name. Noticing the ring on his finger and his slightly falsetto voice, curiosity crept into my mind. Should I come out and ask if he’s gay? What if he’s offended? And what about all those people watching me, how will they react to my question? What if I send the wrong message here and other people start assuming I’m gay?
Unabashedly, Trevor just smiles with an enormous grin on his face and says, “Yeah I am! Are you LGBT too?” The question I expected popping out of the back of my head but dared not want to answer… “No, no, no I’m not,” I exclaim with the sweat already emerging from pores on the back of my neck and body. “I was just curious if you were, that was all.”
Initially, I was hoping to get a photo with Trevor but we ran out of time and he told me he had to go, but in the few short minutes that we did get the chance to chat, he warmly told me he went to this same community college as well and later transferred up to Berkeley, where, in the summer of 2005, met his boyfriend Alex Randolph.
I specialize in business development for local businesses and start-ups, with experiences in business law and real estate. I provide both strategic legal and financial analyses to corporate transactions, business projects, and working groups.
My proudest achievement thus far is to have worked with three successful start-ups in numerous capacities as counsel, manager, or consultant. In all projects, I paint a big picture with fine strokes of small details.
In my spare time, I greatly enjoy networking and being proactive in community organizations providing social services and promoting diversity. I have served and held leadership positions on various community non-profit groups, and continue looking for ways to contribute to my communities. I seek to open doors — and then hold them open for others as well.
Along with my partner Alex Randolph, we now call San Francisco home and seek to help build San Francisco as a beautiful and inclusive place for all.
~ An excerpt from Trevor Nguyen’s Summary on his LinkedIn profile
Since meeting Trevor back in September, I have been personally re-evaluating my views and stances on gay rights in the early 21st century and the LGBT community in general.
In the months that followed, as headlines featured personal scarring stories about gay teens facing constant bullying and death threats appeared, I initially had no comments on what to say or how to act regarding these accounts. Nevertheless, as I later found stories on the pro-gay side of this spectrum, let me be honest: my first reaction was of praise rather than of immediate disgust.
On Tuesday, demonstrators gathered in 75 French cities to oppose the bill which would allow gay marriage and adoption. The picture was shot during the rally in the city of Marseille and as the two women are seen kissing in the forefront, faces of shocked protesters can be seen in the background.
Interviewed by French gay magazine Têtu the two young women explained they are both straight, but wanted to draw attention to the issue with a pure and simple gesture of solidarity.
The comments on the Facebook page of HuffPost France offer some insight into why the picture went viral.
“To respond to all those homophobes with a gesture of love. Nothing is more beautiful!” a reader wrote.
“Love is stronger than hate,” stated another user.
Romain Pigenel, responsible for the Internet division of the presidential palace, also analysed the success of the photos on his blog:
“This snapshot brings out a simple and efficient mechanism: the one of the opposition between reason and emotion, between the power of the image and the complexity of the slogan. The protesters are holding signs and screaming claims that cannot exist, to make sense, in the instantaneity of the photograph.”
Gérard Julien, the photographer, explains on the AFP blog, “This picture, it’s like the story of the biter bit, a reversal of symbolism without their knowing it. Everyone has been surprised by this shot. The protesters were in shock!”
~ An excerpt from Two Women Kiss In Front Of Anti-Gay Protests In Marseille, France (October 25, 2012)
And with each passing day, the number of stories seem to exponentially multiply.
Amazingly, within a time frame of less than a month, I’ve read these six articles I will prominently feature here and provide links for each of them—and apparently, I have a big guilty pleasure I have to confess to all my readers and subscribers out there: I love articles by The Huffington Post and anything MSNBC related!
But in all seriousness, a while back, as I was surfing around Google, I read one story that I can now say marked a first tender emotional and spiritual milestone in my consideration to love and support gay people and the gay and lesbian community.
Some friends and I, with The Marin Foundation, spent the day at Chicago’s (Gay) Pride Parade. We wore shirts that said “I’m Sorry,” and carried signs that said, “I’m sorry that Christians judge you,” and “I’m sorry the way churches have treated you.” Amidst religious protesters screaming hateful rhetoric into megaphones at participants, we wanted to share a different message.
I loved watching people’s faces as they saw our shirts, read the signs, and looked back at us. Responses were incredible. Some people blew us kisses, some hugged us, some screamed thank you. A couple ladies walked up and said we were the best thing they had seen all day. I wish I had counted how many people hugged me. One guy in particular softly said, “Well, I forgive you.”
Watching people recognize our apology brought me to tears many times. It was reconciliation personified. My favorite though was a gentleman dancing on a float. He was dressed only in white underwear and had a pack of abs like no one else. As he was dancing he noticed us and jokingly yelled, “What are you sorry for? It’s pride!” I pointed to our signs and watched him read them. Then it clicked. Then he got it. He stopped dancing, became very serious, and jumped off of the float to run towards us. He and his beautiful sweat drenched abs hugged me and whispered, “thank you.”
Before I had even let go, another guy ran up to me, kissed me on the cheek, and gave me a bear hug that nearly knocked the wind out of me. This is why I do what I do. This is why I will continue to do what I do.
I think a lot of people would stop at the whole “man in his underwear dancing” part. That seems to be the most controversial. It’s what makes the evening news. It’s the stereotype most people have in their minds about Pride. Sadly, a lot of religious groups want to run from such a sight rather than engage it. Most people won’t even learn if that person dancing in his underwear has a name. Well, he does. His name is Tristan.
However, I think Jesus would have hugged him too. There are churches that say they accept all. There are businesses that say they accept everyone. But acceptance isn’t enough. Reconciliation is. And when there isn’t reconciliation, there isn’t full acceptance. Reconciliation is more painful; it’s more difficult. Reconciliation forces one to remember the wrongs committed and relive constant pain. Yet it’s more powerful and transformational because two parties that should not be together and have every right to hate one another come together for the good of one another, for forgiveness and unity….
I hugged a man in his underwear. I hugged him tightly. And I am proud.
~ An excerpt from I Hugged a Man in His Underwear – And I am Proud, originally written by Nathan Albert; Reblogged by Jonathan Williams (December 30, 2010)
That was only the first strike, but several months ago, it left a deep impression on me, and how I would gradually come to embrace a form of love and acceptance that my fellow gay and lesbian friends would want to expect from a non-gay person—and stop the bigoted faggotry. There would be multiple times where I would actually lie awake in bed at night, or have some quiet time to myself during the day, and sit there and actually ponder, “If I was gay, wouldn’t I want to be loved and accepted as a person by my closest friends and family, and a forgiven sinner by the grace of God?” with an almost immediate resounding “Yes!” in my head every single time that particular question would come to mind.
As I once wrote in Scared and Wounded…and Yet, Somehow Still Hoping back in December 2011, I grew up in a strictly anti-gay background and was raised to believe to oppose all homosexual intercourse—and therefore, homosexuality as an orientation in itself—because they’re “unnatural.” But, looking past the sex for a brief moment, I still realize gay people are not just GAY PEOPLE but PEOPLE too. If Christians and believers of other faiths were to blindly follow right-wing propaganda and only bash on gay people just because of their sex lives, from a liberal perspective, that does seem to be demeaning and superficial. From a conservative perspective, however, they only tend to do most of the gay bashing as a result of living in a constant state of fear that the sanctity of heterosexual relationships, and heterosexual love, in effect, will be permanently altered and damaged by the legalizing of this ALTERNATIVE LIFESTYLE.
I understand if viewing this Newsroom clip will anger many people, as it had angered me as well. Nevertheless, I still withheld that initial wave of anger as Will McAvoy (Jeff Daniels) accused Sutton Wall (Damon Gupton) of being a black and gay man, whom Mr. Rick Santorum would proudly find “disgusting” and immediately disapprove of. Sutton’s ending speech won me over this time, however, not McAvoy’s blatant accusations. At one point, McAvoy even acknowledges he pushed the argument too far but could not help it.
Still, I believe Will got the lecture he deserved to hear because his accusations seemed to certainly reach a tipping point where he sounds like he is literally demonizing Santorum and the entire Republican Party because they don’t fit Will’s political preferences or ideologies.
Then again, I am not here to demonize all right-wing belief as I still hold my views on abortion and on gay marriage/civil unions very personally.
Back to the topic at hand, I hope this documentary video will provide the perfect sense of closure for all my readers, no matter if you support gay rights and equality, leaning, neutral or not in favor.
Have a blessed Good Friday and Easter everyone! Jesus loves you ALL and God bless! 😀
If the world should end tomorrow And no one’s by my side My greatest fear and sorrow Is to be alone tonight
The sky may fall The earth could shake And the seas could turn to stone. The sun may scorch me Still I’ll be brave But I’m scared to be alone.
Don’t feel sorry for me I’ll be stronger than I look Though it’s real, the pain I feel What if I keep holding on? Someone hold me ’till I’m gone
If I sleep and never wake If my body turns to bone Death can rear his ugly face I’m just scared to be alone
~ Scared to Be Alone, performed by Tim Be Told
IN EARLY DECEMBER, I clicked on a MSNBC MSN news report whose headline read “Mom of Bullied Gay Teen ‘Uplifted’ By Support”, and viewed a teen boy’s YouTube video that conveyed more of a personal testimony feel to me more than anything else.
But once I started watching, I couldn’t stop until it was over.
My emotions ran high inside of me, as I saw Jonah Mowry cry on camera—I wanted to reach out to him and just give him a comforting hug and just tell him that cliché statement “Everything’s gonna be alright.”
Now before I continue any further, I would like to say I do not affirm homosexuality as a moral thing nor do I fully condemn it.
I was also raised to be “anti-gay” and to be very conservative towards homosexual views—to condemn homosexuality as an entity in itself, and to religiously “hate” on gays.
But, the older I get, some homosexual testimonies speak to me as deeply as straight testimonies do, not just from a romantic perspective, but on a deeper, emotional perspective as well.
This is because, judging from what I heard from several YouTube gay testimonies, some of these males suggest they chose the homosexual path when they felt wimpy, lost, confused, and, in the event of looking for family members and role models to affirm their own masculinities, they felt rejected and scarred and later on, turned to other gays for an intimate romance together.
Now, several gay men out there may wish to argue with me as they please, but these are my authentic views on gays in general.
More importantly, this column is not meant to be a “love gays or hate gays” kind of column.
This column is meant to speak to the hearts, minds and souls of what I intend to be, billions of people on the planet, regardless of nationality, gender, sexual orientation, faith (religion), social class or otherwise.
This column is meant to be one of my personal testimonies on what it’s like to feel lost and alone—and the fear of being lost and alone—and how I intend to walk a long road to recovery, how I have intended to overcome my lost and lonely moments.
Nearly ten months ago, I published a column entitled Striving to Be “Perfect?”, based on Pink’s single Fucking Perfect (excuse me for the vulgar language, but this is the title of the uncensored version of the song). In my column, I excruciatingly described a brief overview on how people get hurt, why they get hurt, and how to overcome past wounds and scars.
Now, I intend to explain a similar topic with analogies to movies, TV dramas, and stories of my own life. If need be, I will expand on this topic on a later basis.
When I was eight years old, I vividly recall one evening where I gathered around the TV with my parents while we watched a Taiwanese drama (whose title I have long forgotten).
There is one scene from this drama, however, that I have never forgotten for the past ten years of my life.
A man is frustrated with events that are occurring (and seemingly unfolding) in his life—relationships with his family and friends have become increasingly strained—and he is fed up with it.
In his anger, he yells at his children, I believe, and later, walks into another room of the house and sits there and sobs loudly.
In my naïve little kid mind, I couldn’t seem to grasp why this man was so angry with his family, and so I asked my dad a relatively simple question, “Dad, why is that man angry?”
My dad responded in a brief manner, “Because he is sad.”
Even ten years down the road, his relatively short answer never quite made sense to me.
“Sad? How is that man sad? I thought he was angry.” I’d often wonder to myself, reminiscing that scene, frozen in my mind.
But it has taken me nearly the past ten years to gradually come to terms with a logical answer to my father’s words.
The man in the drama is sad on an emotional and psychological level, because he feels like he has no control over what is happening to the people closest to him, or even his own life for that matter, and so he lashes out and sobs uncontrollably.
I never quite understood the experience until I first started to get frustrated myself, or whenever I’d get into arguments and fights with my parents, relatives, or even close friends.
There’d be times when I get angry at other people, and after I start to calm down from my frustrations, I’d feel hurt and wounded.
And then there’d be times when I feel depressed and empty.
To cope, I’d usually talk it out.
But there’d also be times when I feel scared to be alone, feeling lost or unwanted, and in my most desperate moments, unloved (or at least, the emotional perception of feeling unloved).
I’ve tried many things to cope with this constant emptiness—surrounding myself with friends at school and at church, talking things out with my parents, several of my high school teachers, my former paraeducator Krystal Sanchez, my high school counselor DeAnne Andrews, or even my former psychologist Dr. Grace Ho—after all the talking, I’d feel comforted, but still empty.
Until a while ago when I started taking things—like schoolwork and the works—a little more seriously.
But I’ll be honest. I still slack, as most other students do.
All that aside, I find hope and encouragement in the people I’ve befriended over the years, and in the God whom I serve and trust as well.
I find hope in films that speak to the heart, and make me want to get out there and do something, and touch other people’s lives.
There is one Taiwanese film I first stumbled upon in my eighth grade year while surfing the Web called 拥抱大白熊 (Bear Hug in English). The film primarily discusses marriage and divorce, and how living in a separated family can affect a young boy growing up in a Taipei home.
My brief synopsis of the film is that a young nine-year old boy, Zhao Da-Jun (陳冠伯, AKA Brian Chen) lives with his father, and his mother is a flight stewardess who occasionally makes time to visit Da-Jun.
It is hinted halfway through the film Da-Jun’s mom and dad are divorced and separated, but Da-Jun still longs for his mom to be near him, and simultaneously loathes his father’s presence on a daily basis.
While Da-Jun’s father is busy with errands at work or spending time with his newfound girlfriend, Da-Jun is looked after by his sixteen-year-old teenage cousin Yi-Fen (Hong Haoxuan), who has problems of her own in her family as well—fighting between her little twin brothers and arguing with her parents, and on top of that, living in a cramped two-story house.
Both Da-Jun and Yi-Fen later glance at a window shop and see a large white teddy bear, and are both comforted by its image.
Though I won’t give away the ending, the teddy bear comes to symbolize a mother polar bear, loving her cubs—but in reality, are separated from her cubs and leaving both mother and cub feeling lost and alone, and in a sense unloved.
Yi-Fen does however understand that Da-Jun has a sad heart…like a bear cub that is sent off into the wild by its mother.
~ An excerpt from the synopsis of Bear Hug (2004) on boyactors.org.uk
Props to the acting and the story by the way.
I especially love Brian’s character, because the story revolves around his point of view—from the eyes of an innocent little boy, and I know I still have the heart of a little boy as well.
That’s why the story in itself is still relatable to people.
(Brian Chen, you’re a great actor. You’re one of my many film idols!)
Every once in a while, you stumble across a great movie like Bear Hug. The message is real, straightforward and impacting and most importantly, thought-provoking.
TV shows and movies, I believe, shouldn’t just be viewed just because it’s “entertainment.”
Why not give it a new label, like “Philosophical Dramas” perhaps?
Cause among the plethora of great movies produced in the world, there are far too many for me to extract philosophical messages from. But they all get the point across really well.
Many stories include themes of triumph, defeat and tragedy, something that everyone can relate to, no matter what people or what culture.
And that’s the thing.
When we all feel lost, tired and weary, when we all face dark times and call for desperate measures, nearly everyone, will get down on their knees and beg for mercy and for a second chance at making things right this time.
Yes, I know You are great But is a bad God better than none? How much more will it take to undo the damage that You have done? ‘Cause the wicked and wayward continue to thrive And the martyrs continue giving their lives Oh, the faithful never never survive Oh, the faithful never never survive
God are You listening? Please hear my cry I don’t really believe You’re more cruel than You’re kind But I’m getting tired of repeating this line That the faithful never survive…
~ An excerpt from Lament performed by Tim Be Told
We all feel this way at times. We long for hope, love and comfort.
But how does the world treat you?
It spits in your face and tries to stone you. You become an exile, and you flee to save your own life.
But one little ray of hope still encourages us to “Love thy neighbor as thyself”, and this single line encourages me too to do the same.
It is extremely difficult to love…in a world that longs for love and acceptance, and when there is so much hatred among our fellow human beings.
It is even worse when the common man treats his neighbors as enemies, and plots to destroy them.
But didn’t somebody say “Love your enemies anyway?”
Why is that?
Because that is what an almighty God wants for mankind. He wants us to treat our fellow human beings as friends and partners, not our enemies, for aren’t we all made in His image?
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.
~ Genesis 1:26 – 27 (NIV)
Give those verses some food for thought the next time you feel down on yourself or your relationship with someone is strained.
People get angry, I get it. I do too. But a thought and an emotion even greater than anger or sadness is love.
My parents love me even when I disobey them.
(That’s crazy talk, right?!)
Not really. It’s called grace.
What I did on the Cross was meant to take what is unforgivable and make it forgivable. That’s my grace. It’s not about you. It’s always about Me. That’s grace Peter.
~ Jesus (Tommy Woodard) from Grace performed by The Skit Guys
A friend of mine, Nathan Cheng, once told me a piece of advice. He reminded me that parents aren’t perfect people either. They make mistakes as well, and regret them as any other human would. But they still love their children no matter what.
How more would this God I’m supposed to put my faith in and believe in ever love me less?
Answer: He doesn’t. He loves you with everything that He is.
He loves ALL people, regardless of gender, nationality, or sexual orientation.
And yes, God loves homosexuals too.
(It’s the people that judge. But He doesn’t. He only judges you if you don’t accept His gift of grace, but it is every man’s decision to choose, whether to accept it or reject it.)
To close, I’d like to have Jonah Mowry share a few words:
I’m scared…
A lot of people hate me. I don’t know why. But I guess I do. Cause I kinda hate me too….I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being torn down, and building myself up to only be torn down again.
But…I’m not going anywhere. Because I’m stronger than that. And I have a million reasons to be here.
~ Jonah Mowry, from What’s Going On? (2011)
I am a Christian, and I love Jonah Mowry. 🙂
God bless you all this Christmas Season, and have a Merry Christmas! 😀
