A Christian Mother's Conversion

The bikes were the last items shoved into the twenty-four foot U-Haul before we shut the door and hooked-up the trailer carrying our red Volkswagen bug. With a hint of irony, the day was April Fool’s Day, 1999, and I was fleeing my bankrupt life in Fairfield, California. Emotionally and physically spent, I was leaving behind a failed marriage, a foreclosed house, and a gay son, to start over in Colorado.
Before taking the driver’s seat, I accepted Robbie’s request we take one last walk around the block. Neither of us could find the words we wanted so desperately to convey to each other. “Robbie, I know you’ve been struggling with some issues for a few years now, and I want you to know that no matter what, I love you. Please be good and choose things in your life that will make you and God happy.” What I wanted to say was, “Robbie, don’t be gay! Please don’t go against everything we have taught you about God,” but I had never directly acknowledged Robbie’s homosexuality up to this point, and did not want to start talking about his sexual identity when I was ready to drive away.
Robbie’s words were tentative, “Mom, I love you, and I would never choose to do anything to purposefully hurt you. I’m going to miss you.” What Robbie wanted to say was, “Mom, I am gay, and it wasn’t my choice. I am scared and need your support.” I jumped into the big truck holding my life’s accumulations and drove away from my eldest born not wanting to look back.

Homosexuality is AIDS
The anxiety I felt about Robbie’s homosexuality continued to build since he was away at Scout Camp five years earlier. While all the boys were away, I took the opportunity to clean their bedrooms like only a mother can. Between braving the testosterone stench of newly developing adolescence, finding the mother lode of missing socks under the bed, separating dishes deemed renewable from those I didn’t want to ever eat out of again, I found a stack of novels about gay teens. How could Robbie even want to read about homosexuality? Gasping for breath, the weight of the world pressing down on me, my mind went immediately to my 5-year class reunion in 1984.
With the beat of disco music pulsing in my head, between the flashes of the strobe light, the names of fellow classmates who had already died came into focus. Disbelief struck my core as I read, “Jerry Norris – AIDS.” Popular Jerry Norris was the first of our class to fall from the newly discovered homosexual killer we came to know as AIDS. AIDS and homosexuality were synonymous. Homosexuality, aside from being morally wrong, was a quick pathway to death.
A voracious reader, Robbie often had stacks of books in his bedroom, yet somewhere in my soul I knew he wasn’t reading these particular novels just for entertainment. As I dropped those library books one-by-one into the library book return, I decided since Robbie would know I found the books, and he would surely be embarrassed, I would not have to say anything to him. Yes, if I just ignored the whole incident, and pretended I didn’t have a questioning son, the whole issue would pass over, and we would be happy again.

He is Still Gay
Happiness came incrementally, though homosexuality did not leave our family. Robbie would struggle with his sexual identity without the help and support of his family, but with his faith in God intact. While jumping from a boulder at Lake Berryessa the summer after high school graduation, he said the impact of hitting the water felt like he landed on cement. As he lay in bed with a fractured spine, his belly distended from his inability to pass urine or stool, Robbie’s mind was not on his injured body as he bargained with God, “Please God, let me be normal. Let me be straight and I will do anything you ask.” After months of recovery, he was still gay.
While serving a mission in Osorno, Chile, Robbie’s testimony led many people to Christ, but when he got home he was till gay. Context Specific Therapy with Dr. Jeffrey Robinson was helpful, but after working the workbooks, countless hours in prayer, and trying to concentrate on anything but being homosexual, he was still gay.
Crying does not take away the pain I feel for this son who wants so much to be “good.” How could I reconcile my belief homosexuality is morally wrong with the fact that no matter what Robbie tried he was still gay? The Bible says, “By their fruits, ye shall know them” (Matthew 7:16-20). Robbie is gay, but his fruits are kindness, love, charity, peace, forgiveness, tolerance, and acceptance. Signs of an evil soul such as malice, envy, and anger do not exist in this good son.
I then had to look at my own soul. Passing by the vanity mirror one day I had to do a double take to see who was staring back at me. Mousy hair, depressed eyes, a sullen frown, and overall worn countenance revealed the fear, anger, and phobias building inside me. As I stared at the image in the mirror I reflected upon a saying I heard once, “Neglect is the most destructive form of abuse.” By ignoring him, I had neglected my son, and the face of an abuser was staring back at me.

Sexual Orientation is not a Choice
Robbie’s search for answers was relatively safe in the mid-1990’s as he confined his quest to the one companion which had been constant: the library. Any questioning adolescent today has only to go as far as the home computer, Google “homosexuality” or “gay,” before being led to many sites full of vulgarity, porn, and twisted ideas. Today’s parents cannot afford to ignore their child’s developing sexual identity. Factual, open communication at home and at school can help struggling students find their identity before they turn to self-destructive behaviors due to self-loathing.
I, too, went to the library. Pouring over several decades of research on the subject of homosexuality allowed me to open my mind to the possibility homosexuality, as a sexual orientation, is not a choice, not a disease, not a mental illness, and not curable. No matter how hard Robbie wanted to be straight, God’s will was otherwise. “Consider the handiwork of God. Who can make straight that which he hath made crooked" (Ecclesiastes 7:13)? If God made my son homosexual, I accept Robbie’s homosexuality as a gift from God.

If I had it to Do Over Again
So I ponder on the ifs. If I had understood sexual orientation is not a choice, I would not have feared talking to my son when I found he was questioning his own. If I had been more open with my son, he could have communicated his fears. If I had known homosexuality is not curable, I would have encouraged Robbie to accept himself and stop trying to be what he wasn’t. If I would have known ignoring his homosexuality would not make it go away, I would have embraced that son on April Fool’s Day and cried because life was tearing us apart at such a critical time in his development.
Many items packed tightly into the U-Haul that spring day have since been forgotten, but my relationship with my loving, intelligent, homosexual son endures. I will stand next to him, and stand up for him everyday of my life as we try in every way we can to make life easier for other questioning adolescents. I accept God’s love and wisdom in making my son homosexual.