A Love Story

The following is  a story of love and sacrifice, dealing with a new normal, grace in the face of adversity, and unrelenting change.

There was a couple that loved each other a great deal. They had common interests and wanted more than anything to simply live out their lives, working their jobs, and enjoying life. These are not uncommon desires. They are what we all share. It is the commonality that gives us the empathy to deal with whatever life can throw at us. Some of us, however, get hard balls thrown at the head which are impossible to duck. This was true of this couple.

He was driving home from work one day and suffered a massive stroke. Years of smoking, diet not best suited to low cholesterol and genetics caught up with him in one moment of calamity. The stroke was unexpected, no warning signs, no anticipation. It was a life-altering and life-threatening event. It changed forever the scope and hope of his life.

It also changed forever the life and dreams of his wife. She would now be called upon to bath, dress, and feed her husband. The responsibility of earning enough for them to live on would fall on her shoulders. Would she have enough strength? Would she have enough determination? Would her love be strong enough to endure the indignities that she would be called on by this new "normal"?

A lot of couples would have fallen apart. She could have said, "I didn't sign up for this. I'm out." But she didn't. In the following years she would graciously endure the criticism of her husband's family about his care and therapy. Through the years she made sure her husband could attend the holidays and family reunions, even though travel was extraordinarily difficult. Air travel in particular created almost insurmountable obstacles. But she quietly and diligently made sure that her husband would have full benefit of his extended family.

Life at home was a new challenge. Conversation had to be adapted to questions that could be answered with a simple "yes" or "no". Long talks, and banter, and even arguments were now only memories from another life and another time. Care and feeding of an infant is difficult at best, but the care and feeding of a 50-yr-old is mind-numbing and constant and hard. Doubts and fears and self-pity are constant companions. Life threw a Nolan Ryan hardball and derailed the life that they never would have imagined. It has been years since the fateful ride home from work.

This is a real couple. I know them well. They are a part of my bride's family. And they are gay. They are not "married" but committed "life partners". All the references above to the husband is my bride's sister. The "wife" is her partner. I look at them and I wonder how I can criticize their life's choices. Would I be able to handle the struggles with the same grace and quietness that they have? Would I instead rage at the world and the creator who would allow this tragedy? Would I be able to handle the partner's family with the same patience and grace and maturity that the family failed to exhibit? I would like to answer yes, but I know my heart well enough to know that I would not be as calm and gracious and compassionate were I wearing their shoes.

A few years ago through spiritual disciplines and a lot of self incriminating examination I changed my view of God. I was raised in religious tribe that had little patience with differing views, even amongst themselves. We took what we thought was God's Word and hammered whoever disagreed with us. As a fellow told me one time while reflecting on what he had heard while listening to sermons as a child, "Jesus loves you, you are going to Hell". We assumed we were mirroring the nature of God.This shaped our doctrinal approaches to virtually every cultural event.But when I changed my view of God, I changed my view of others.

Now, I lean against the mindset. The best analogy I can come up with is a judge sitting on the bench and the next case is called and he looks down and realizes that the defendant is his own son. And he is guilty. I think the judge would start looking for ways to waive the guilty sentence. I think he would look for any nuance in the judgement, he would scour the law books looking for any slim loophole that would set his son free. He would ignore the massive momentum of evidence and look for one small spark of remorse, one little glance of appeal. And he would find a way to commute the sentence, to step down from the bench, fling his judge robe aside and embrace his son, taking him home, free and forgiven.

I hope this is the scene when I stand before the Creator because I suspect I have far more to answer for than those I wrote about above. If they are judged on the pureness of their hearts as evidenced by their lives described above, then they have far less to worry about with their sexual orientation than I do with my judgemental attitude. I believe that God will look into their hearts and see sacrifice and dedication and grace. It is my sincere hope that he sees a little of that in mine.

Godspeed to Nancy and Glen. This journey has been steep for you. My prayer is that your reward will be great for making the journey with all the grace and humility you exhibit every time I see you. We love you.
Don