Let us walk together, you and I
Submitted by J on December 27 2001 06:41:47
In reply to Ben are you about? submitted by Etenne on December 26 2001 21:14:32
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Dear Etenne, I know we've never spoken before, either here or over on BoyChat, but I'm hoping that you won't mind if I respond to your post. Almost six years ago I went for help to a 'Christian' counselor after I failed in an attempt to kill myself by running my car head on at full speed into the garage of my house. He tricked me into having my first session with him observed, then lied and tried to cover it up, and finally told me I was evil and going to hell. I left emotionally abused and more suicidal than when I came to him. In a last ditch effort before making another attempt on my life I reached out to a 'Christian' acquaintance at work, only to have him direct me to the same place (hell). I spent the next four months in a suicidal stupor and tried unsuccessfully to slit my wrists and hang myself before going to a local crisis center for suicide intervention counseling. It was about four months after that when I found BoyChat on the Internet and received the support that helped me abandon my plans for a fourth attempt on my life. I wrote and posted the poem (included below in the postscript) on BoyChat in June of 1997 and there is one particular verse that I wanted to elaborate on: Who am I to open up this door slammed shut by those filled full with hate, a clean and polished outer cup? ‘Those’ are the ones whom Jesus addressed as followed: Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean. Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness. Matthew 23:25-28 After receiving the help I needed from non-Christians to bring me out of my suicidal depression, I turned my attention to the ‘Christians’ who had hurt me so deeply and lashed out at them. I do not know your story, nor if I did would I ever presume to say that I know how you feel. But I do know what it felt like when I was hurt by ‘Christians’ and can relate as you express your hatred for everything about Christianity, and what I perceive to be your earnest desire to free yourself from that hatred. I am sorry for the pain that you have been caused by the ‘Christians’ in your life. I am sorry for the pain they are still causing you and cause those whom you care about. I pray that God will bring about healing in your life, for He is truly the one who can and will ‘heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds’ (Psalm 147:3). Forgiving the ‘Christians’ who hurt us is not easy, and without God’s help, dare I say impossible. Sometimes I thought that I had forgiven them, only to have something open up the wound and the hatred I thought was gone come bubbling to the surface again. Forgiveness is a journey; one that I am still on and one that I would love to have a companion take with me, if you’ll have me. Along the way you can ask me anything you like. I can’t promise that I’ll have all the answers, but what I can promise is that I will respond thoughtfully and compassionately to any issue that is lying heavily on your heart or is aching for a resolution. I am proudly a BL, but I am also proudly a Christian; nor are the two incompatible or contradictory. So come, let us walk together, you and I… Respectfully and with much love, J ***** The Open Door In the dead of night thoughts are stirred, their hollow rings within the caverns of my mind are tossed and turned. For alone I am within four walls, my home sweet cell has beckoned me for once and for all. The final stretch of a journey long, filled with pain and shattered dreams I held so long. The end draws near, it's here at last; a tear drop falls in memory of my tortured past. As I go to close my eyelids for the final time, I notice a light from underneath the jail door. Who am I to open up this door slammed shut by those filled full with hate, a clean and polished outer cup? But I am the one who holds the key with love and hope, a heart that will forever beat. Slowly coming down from my perch on durant bed, I turn the knob from left to right, my choice to live instead. |
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