Old Time Radio at OTRCat!

Thursday, April 06, 2006

It has been an...unpleasant week.
Work has been worky.
People have been a trial.
Memories have stunk.
The worst part of hell will be the regret. Having to relive over and again the time you ultimately rejected Grace. And the times you made an utter and complete ass of yourself before the watching world.
An unpleasant week.

As to memories, I recall my upbringing, and the seemingly contradictory life I live today. My father was a homosexual, and a drunk. (Spare me the idiocy: "Well, YOU'RE here..." Think of me as an experiment in an alternative lifestyle.) His mother was a moderating-and perhaps causative- influence in his life, and upon her death, when I was in ninth or tenth grade, all bets were off. The charming, genteel, delusions-of-mint-juleps-on-the-veranda disappeared into a bottle. I say drunk because though he did the AA and State Hospital trip, he schmoozed his way through to release. He was charming, and knew how to answer the questions, and after his vacation, he would return to the bottle. Bottles. I lived with him. I know.

Couple this with his degeneration into crudity. The Pop Media Machine seeks to cast homosexuality in a soft-focus shot. Romantic, even. I have seen the Wine and Roses, and it is cheap vodka and tobacco and the twisting of the most innocent comment into sexual innuendo.
I have been propositioned by his pals -how sweet- and pawed at like the farmer's virgin daughter. Sophisticated and cosmopolitan, I'll say. The sheer ruttishness of what he became haunts me to this day, and I avoid my extended family mostly because of all the memory triggers involved. And let me tell you, there is nothing to establish one's self-worth like seeing your dad's exploits on your high school bathroom wall. Suffice to say that I give precisely zero pass to the "lifestyle".

As to my contradictory life, well, I have a surprisingly large number of homosexual friends and acquaintances. Good friends, who love and appreciate me, even with my being a believer, and all. I treasure them, pray good for them, and they know that they can call on me at need. I say this not to do the Pharisee Dance (blow the trumpet, watch me prance...what a GOOD person am I...), but rather to marvel at the redeeming work of Christ. I'm not whole, but I'm a lot less broken! Where hatred could dwell, there is...something better.

I also share this to show that Bad Upbringings can be triumphed over.


Billiam said...

He does redeem us. I was molested by the man who was my "Big Brother". from the program. I never told my Mom. It would kill her. I kept it inside till about 5 years ago. Then, in a mens accountability group, I was able to tell someone about it, and forgive the man. I also asked God to forgive me for never telling. I used to struggle with guilt. How many other boys went through it. Could I have stopped it. I think Soloman said it best in Ecclesiates, "For with much Wisdom comes much Sorrow, the more Knowledge, the more Grief". I wish I never learned the things I did that year. The knowledge has brought much sorrow, and never truly goes away. Go with God.

The Aardvark said...

Oh, mercy. I am so sorry that yo went through such. Thankfully I was not molested in the classic sense. I am glad that you have been able to come to grips with it, and to walk in forgiveness. The woulda, coulda, shouldas are a major trap, and certainly ripe targets for Christ's redeeming love. May God continue His healing in you!

Billiam said...

Right back at you. He has always been there for me, even when I wasn't asking Him to be. He'll do that for all of us, if we but ask.