89. My Mom Talks With God

So I just got off the phone with my mom. Always a treat! Actually, this conversation wasn’t that bad. Mostly just catching up on details. Of course, it did include the requisite reminder that I really “need to take care of my health” because I “could be a real bombshell, you know”. This is the first time she pulled out that particular adjective. It was followed by the “you have a lot to offer anyone, big or small… you have great wit”. I’m never sure how to respond to that, so I just don’t bother trying anymore.

The thing is, though, in amongst all of this she did tell me that she’s been praying for me (as a mother should, of course)… and her prayers have been centering around helping me to find the confidence to believe that I had something to offer, to believe that someone could want me, could want to be with me. I was kind of blown away by that, because, well, if you’ve read some of my recent entries, that’s totally what’s been happening to me. I’m suddenly believing that someone could want me. My mom’s prayers have been answered. Although I’m sure she would thoroughly disapprove of the way that they’ve been answered… being hit on by cute lesbians I’m sure would be at the very bottom of her list of methods to restore my confidence, right under starring in a successful porn and being kidnapped by Turkish sex-slave traders (heh, if you actually know me personally, you know that there’s a real story behind that particular example).

Funnily enough, this is the second time where my mom prayers have intersected with my lesbianism (well, the second time that I know of). The first time was right after I came out. I was traveling across Europe and I met this girl that I fell head over heels for. It was probably more intense for being the first time I let myself be aware of my feelings for a girl. I fell hard. Completely and totally in love. And she was as straight as can be. It wasn’t that I thought we could be together, at this point in my life I was quite certain about celibacy being my only option. But she started being really cold towards me (probably because she began to sense the intensity of my emotion) and really hurt me. Kind of broke my heart. I remember being in Amsterdam, in an internet café, holding back my tears (I had just come back from the airport where I had seen her off, and she had given me a very perfunctory hug, sort of dismissed me) when I got an email from my mom saying that she had been praying for me and had sensed that I had met (or would meet, she was unsure of the exact timing) someone who would hurt me really badly and she was praying that God would comfort me through this time. I just stared at the screen. God had told my mom that I would fall in love and be hurt… I remember thinking it was amazing that God cared about it, even though it was a ‘gay hurt’, if that makes any sense.

I never told her about it, about the girl who broke my heart, and how her prayers bore fruit. Just like I never plan to tell her how her prayers for a restoration in my confidence have borne fruit. But there it is. My mom my talks with God. That’s a good thing. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I believe that everything she says is gospel truth. A lot of her prayers are, I’m sure, colored by her own desires for me, and that’s fine. All of our prayers are filtered through us. But it’s neat to see that, even though she probably wouldn’t see it as an answer to prayer, God is listening to her. At least, I think He is.