Fearfully and wonderfully made

One of the most surprising parts of becoming a parent is realizing how fiercely you love this little person, who is so helpless and so dependent on you. You find yourself staring at them for hours, memorizing their features, their smell, their sounds, the feel of them resting in your arms. You think there’s no way that you could ever love them more than you do right then. But you do. As they grow, so does your love for them.

So too does your pain, when they are hurt. When they are small, it’s little things like shots and colds and fevers. As their bodies grow, the hurts grow and often change. The hurts are emotional more than physical. And not so easily fixed by a cartoon band-aid or a kiss to make it better. The thing that you want most in the world to do is to protect your child. To protect them from things and people that might hurt them. To protect them from people who might be mean or hurtful to them. To protect them from broken hearts and disappointments.

When there is a diagnosis of an illness that will make life hard for them, you grieve. You grieve for the life you wanted for them and the life that they will have instead. That grief is a socially acceptable one. One that people understand. One that people will support you in. One that you don’t feel you have to hide or conceal for fear of judgment or even hatred.

When your child comes out to you as being gay or lesbian or bisexual or trans, there is grief there too. Not grief because they are gay. Not grief based on judgment or doubt about who they are or who God made them to be. Grief because you know without a doubt that life is going to be harder for them than you want it to be. You grieve for the easy life you wanted for them and the potentially difficult life that they will have instead.

Unlike having a child with physical illness, having a child who is gay is not one that is as socially acceptable. It’s one many people won’t support you in. It’s one many will judge you for and will judge your child and even hate them for who they are.

The pain of having someone hate your child because of something they have no control over is not something I can explain to you unless it is something you have experienced yourself. The fear of having your child targeted for hate crimes or for public ridicule or shaming is very real. The sadness at having someone you thought loved your child say, when they find out your child is gay, that they believe that they should love the sinner but hate the sin, or question whether or not they are really a Christian after all can be debilitating. The rage and pain that you feel when someone tells your precious child that they are going to go to hell because they refuse to repent of their sinful way cannot be fully expressed or explained.  

Being the parent of a gay child is one of the hardest roles as a parent that I can imagine. 

I know that because I walk in those shoes. My son Clayton, in addition to being an incredibly gifted artist, a talented actor and vocalist, a kind, loving, and loyal friend, a thoughtful son and grandson and brother, and a nurturing uncle, is also gay. 

It’s not something he chose. It’s not something he easily accepted. It’s something he prayed for two years would change. It’s something he was convinced happened because God for some reason, that he did not understand, was punishing him. What finally made him realize that he was made exactly as God intended him to be was the love of his friends, and his church, and his pastor, and, thankfully, his parents and brother.

He didn’t choose to be gay. But God chose it for him. This I know.

And I know without a doubt that God has great plans for this precious child. I know without a doubt that God created him as WHO he is, just AS he is, just HOW he is, for a purpose. I know without a doubt that he was fearfully and wonderfully made, in God’s purpose and in God’s image.

And I know without a doubt that people will hate him because of it. And that hurts my mama heart and it always will. 

I have learned so much humility and grace from this precious child of God through this journey since he came out to us a year and a half ago. At only 16, he has far more maturity and compassion to people who judge him than I ever will. Than I ever want to have. His grace to choose to continue to love people who hate him because he is gay is God directed and God given. It must be. Because how else can he turn the other cheek in the face of insults and judgment and continue to love in the face of hate?

This precious child of God has an amazing witness because of his acceptance of who he is and who God made him to be, and his love for others who have shown in so many ways that they don’t deserve it. This precious child of God will change and save lives just by being who he is, without shame, without reservation, and without apology. This precious child of God will change the world for the better because he chooses each day to love above all else. To fight for what is right and what is good with love and compassion rather than fear or hate.

I did not choose for my child to be gay any more than he chose it for himself. But after the shock, and after the grief, I fully embrace who he is and I wouldn’t change it if I could. Because the plans that God has for him are great. They are plans for a hope and a future. They are plans to prosper him and to grow him and to use him in a mighty way.  

God made my child with a purpose. For a purpose. To love and to be loved. Fully. Without condemnation. Without hatred. Without judgment. 

Clayton praises God because he is fearfully and wonderfully made. In God’s love. In God’s image. God’s works are wonderful. Clayton knows that full well. 

And each day he teaches me that lesson a little more clearly.

"For you [God} created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:13-14