Rainbow




My truly amazing wife-to-be. I love you.

I have believed in God since I was five years old. At least five, maybe even younger. I slept every night with a King James Bible tucked away in the top drawer of my night stand. I went to Sunday school on Sunday's with my mom, sister and occasionally my father. I put my change in the offering tray and sang "Jesus Loves Me" with gusto. I prayed for the sick and the poor and the poor in spirit. I learned my Bible chapters in order and could recite the Lord's Prayer in full by the time I was six. I loved the hymns, the choir and especially choir robes. I loved to watch my mom swish by me in her choir robe as she followed the other choir members up the church aisle to sing in front of the church. 

Middle school and high school brought with it a flurry of youth group trips and mid week youth meetings. I was involved in Young Life, Teens for Christ and my church youth group. I surrounded myself with like minded peers and tried to live a virtuous teenage life. My chubby, awkward middle school self grew into a less awkward, less chubby teenage self and boys began to take notice. Not about to be left behind in the social world of high school dating, I jumped into the dating scene with both feet. Pretty much every boy that asked me out, I went out with. But by the middle of my freshman year of high school, I began to realize something about myself....something wasn't quite right.

I remember I was sitting in science class one day when I noticed a girl in the row ahead of me. Her hair was short and dark. She had rather broad shoulders. I knew she was athletic and kind of a "tom-boy". She didn't have a boyfriend I was pretty sure. In fact, I had heard someone say that she was "gay". I knew that meant that she liked girls and for that reason she must not be a Christian.  "I should pray for her", I thought. As she got up from her chair to sharpen her pencil, I couldn't stop looking at her. There was something about the line of her jaw, the way her t-shirt stretched over shoulders and pulled tight across her chest that made my heart beat faster than normal. When she glanced up and caught me looking at her, I quickly diverted my gaze. 

I didn't think about that incident again until months later. I was on a bus with my friends and other band members (yes, I was in the band) on our way to a marching event. I was sitting next to a girl that I didn't know on a very personal level. She was athletic like the girl in science class. She had short hair, large brown eyes and a splash of freckles over her nose. As we talked and laughed I realized that I was feeling the same rush I had felt looking at the girl in science class. My face was flushed and my heart was beating fast. I wanted to tell her but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't let her know how I felt. I couldn't let anyone know how I felt.

I knew that being gay was a sin. I knew that these feelings I was having were wrong. I knew that I needed to pray harder. Read my Bible more. I needed to date more boys. Go to every dance. Be involved with boys and church and dances....keep it up until it felt right. I spent night after night praying and crying and thinking about killing myself. I began to believe that dying would be better than having such unholy feelings. I could not imagine why I felt attracted to girls and not to boys. Boys were attracted to me. I could get boyfriends but I lost interest quickly and when it came to the physical aspect, well, I was less than enthusiastic.

I was 16 years old when I met the boy that would one day be my husband. He picked me. He passed by me one day as I was sitting in the yard of the house I baby sat at every day after school. He was with a group of friends and he yelled out loud enough for me to hear, "I am going to marry her one day." I laughed out loud but inside I secretly wondered if he was my answer from God. He and I began dating my junior year in high school. Ten days after I graduated we got married and like they say, 'the rest is history.' 

I felt fortunate to be married. I knew it was right. It was where I belonged. I had every intention of making it work but less than six months into our marriage I was already depressed. I had no reason to be unhappy. I was married to my best friend and I truly loved him. I had a house and a good job and was attending community college...life was good! Yet this underlying sadness pulled me down. kept me from fully enjoying  my husband and my life.

Over the course of our twenty year marriage I would spend nearly fifteen of those years in therapy. I would dive deep into depression, claw my way out only to slip back in. I would vow to myself and God over and over and over again that I would be a better wife, better mother, better daughter, better sister, better friend...that I would be straight. 

Finally out of desperation I would join a Christian group promising to give me the tools I needed to be free of 'sexual brokenness'. I would go for three years to this three hour a week, nine months a year prayer and  Bible study group. Along side recovering sexual predators, sexual assault and abuse victims and other homosexuals I would reveal my deep, dark secrets and pray for God to restore me to 'sexual wholeness'. 

One night about half way through the third year of the group something inside of me just sort of snapped. I had been praying my heart out. I had read every word of every book assigned. I had participated in group discussion and in all the long weekend 'retreats' and after nearly three years, quite honestly, I felt nothing. In fact if anything, I felt angry. Angry at God, at this group and at Christians in general. This was all a big lie. There was no changing. I would never feel straight. I would always be gay. I would have to live the rest of my life as a gay woman in a straight marriage. That was the only answer.

My mood changed considerably after that night. I felt relieved. Relieved that I now knew where I stood. I was gay, that was not going to change. But I was also married to my best friend and the father of my children and for that reason alone, I felt positive I could make this marriage work. I just had to dig my heels in. 

I planned my new years resolutions for 2011. More focus on my marriage and children. Renewed faith in my relationship with God. No longer was I going to pray to be straight. I was not going to question God about my sexuality, I was going to do the best I could with who I was and just accept myself and my lot in life.  It was still a pretty darn good life. I had two beautiful sons,  a loving husband, nice house and a great job. 

Then on January 1, 2011, my world fell apart. My husband broke the news that he lost our house and the rest is a blur. In the next four months my husband would disappear as would all our money. I would be homeless, husband-less, fund-less and FORTY...

God works in mysterious ways. I'm not saying the demise of my marriage was God's fault nor am I saying it was his will. The death of my marriage was the result of two damaged people making their way through life, unable to prop up a dying, weakening and hollow commitment to one another any longer. 

I had prayed for decades to be freed from the pain, stress and my complete devastation at being gay. God heard me. Just when I wasn't even sure if God loved me anymore, he sent me a sign that he did indeed. In the days following my husbands disappearance, I was surrounded by friends and family falling all over themselves to help me. The love and support I received was overwhelming. I felt God in every one of those people and I thanked God for not deserting me. 


It's been nearly two years now and what an incredible two years it has been. I feel as if I have come through a tremendous storm. I have been tossed around, slapped up side the head, endured near drowning experiences and still managed to wash up on the shore alive and kicking. 

And just like God promised, at the end of the storm there is a rainbow. Only now it holds more significance than it once would have. Because not only have I made it through the storms of these past two years, but for the first time in my life, I am able to be who I really am;  a good mother, a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend and gay. Which is exactly how God made me and it's okay.  I'm now very glad he did. God loves me just as much today as he always did and I love him more.