I’m very pensive tonight. Often I avoid self-reflection, both out of a fear of what I might find, and a dislike of focusing so much on myself. But you can’t learn what is going on in the depths of the soul unless you look deep, penetrating to the place where God is most at work. I’m sitting outside Starbucks on an increasingly cold evening. The metaphor, I find, is fitting for what I am feeling now. Inside the warm, golden glowing room just on the other side of the glass are people laughing, studying, carrying on conversations. Some are troubled, some are enjoying companionship and it’s comforts. Little separates us, but I cannot help but feel segregated off a bit from them. Out in the cold, as it were. Not without my own comforts, mind you. I have a book dear to my heart, a warm cup of coffee, achingly beautiful music by Yann Tiersen, and most of all, I have a quiet moment to plumb the depths of God’s actions in my life. It is a gift and a cross. I know of no other way to see it.
How I long to be longed for. And yet, how I know no human love will ever completely fulfill the ache left deep in my heart. Only a love from above can fulfill it. What if, what if God asked me to wait a whole lifetime to know his love so fully that I myself felt fulfilled. Would it be fair? Would it be worth it? To abandon, to sacrifice the love of one who feels as I do for a greater love to come? This seems to me to be the ultimate question posed by my homosexuality: will you wait for me? Will you wait throughout the longing and the loneliness, will you sit outside the window and watch the rest of the world move in a warmth greater than the one I will afford you? Will my promise to be waiting for you in eternity, and hidden in every Mass and prayer until that day, will it be enough for you to trust? Will you let this unfulfillment melt away all the pride and lust and anger and despair? Will you walk the long road, if it leads to me? I have only one answer.
Holy Mary, Ora Pro Nobis!