A Kiss and a Prayer (I am Michael Sam)

There's a Facebook thing going around that shows Michael Sam kissing his boyfriend after being drafted into the NFL and Tim Tebow kneeling in prayer. The post reads You know America is in trouble when we celebrate this (the kiss) and mock this (the prayer). I can't adequately describe how much this has bothered me since seeing it, so much so, that I woke up thinking about it several times throughout the night. I don't even know that I can adequately articulate all that bothers me about this post and why it saddens and disappoints me so deeply. I am also unsure, if you truly stand behind the sentiment of this post, that there is anything that I can say that would help you see life from any different perspective than your own. 

First, if you truly believe that I am the reason that America is in trouble, then...I'm not sure I know what to say. Now you may say that you don't mean this as a personal slam to me, but, you see, I am Michael Sam, my wife is Michael Sam, and what you don't realize is that YOU are Michael Sam as well. Everyone one of us desires the freedom to live, love, and pursue a happy and peaceful life. We are all more alike than we are different, and we do not have the right to dictate how others' peaceful life should look. I didn't always realize this, and sadly, I've heaped a lot of judgments due to my lack of understanding and personal insecurities.

Second, yeah, it hurts. Okay, I said it. I personally think the kiss has taken on a life of its own and has distracted from Sam's actually talent, but I also see the significance of the first openly gay man drafted into the NFL and his open, and I might add beautiful, celebration of such. In many situations, we can, and do, still lose jobs because of who we are and who we love. It has taken me an extremely long time to be at peace with the fact that I am gay, and I intend to work towards a peaceful society that allows everyone to be who they are. This includes Tim Tebow and this includes you.

I don't endorse the mockery of Tebow. I wouldn't even know Tim Tebow if he knocked on my door today, but he has the right to believe how he chooses. It is all too easy to jab at the expression of personal beliefs instead of true dialogue about concerns and differences. I have been guilty of this, and I am trying to rise above such playground tactics as bullying those who are not like me. Be clear also, that Tim Tebow has the long-held freedom to express his religious beliefs, whereas Michael Sam has not always held the freedom to express who he is, not just his beliefs. So it is in this progress of freedom that we celebrate, not simply a same-sex kiss. (And in the name of logic, a huge portion of lgbtq that I know personally would celebrate both the kiss and the knee knelt in prayer!)

I will agree that we have some big troubles here in our nation, but my pursuit of a peaceful life with my wife is not one of them. Perhaps our troubles can be found in the the fact that corrupt money controls our politics, or that NFL players make so more than teachers, or that our prisons are for-profit while children on our soil go to bed hungry each night. We need more talk action about these issues that threaten to ruin the fabric of our society. We need more peaceful dialogue and understanding and that takes a lot of work and patience. 

I celebrate every single moment that I can proudly show affection to my wife without my life or hers being threatened. I celebrate your freedoms as well. May you be happy and at peace. 

...and then there was that one night.

As my self-honest grew, I gained the confidence to tackle bigger topics of doubts that I'd held. Prayer/healing had always been a difficult concept for me to grasp. I think I found the concept of healing difficult to accept due to the sickness I'd seen my family members suffer through. As a teen, I had watched my parents pray fervently for my younger brother to be healed of diabetes, but no healing came. I always wondered why. I've never had to wonder how much my parents loved us, and I knew they would have done anything within their power to stop the needles, the pain, and the tears of a ten-year old boy coming to terms with a lifelong illness; how then could a loving, all powerful, God just sit back and do nothing? I know all too well the God's ways are higher than our ways trump card, but I found it always lacking in the face of reality.

Now, as an adult wrestling quietly with these haunting doubts and questions, I relived this scenario again in the life of my nephew. As it had done so many years before, the news that my brother’s son, my beautiful, brilliant, six year old nephew, had diabetes, shook me to the core.  As any six year old, he was not prepared for the needles and the drastic change of lifestyle, and I found myself staring at him in an emergency room after a late night scare with his concerned mother by his side. 

It took all I had within me to hold it together that night. It was the most heartbreaking night of my life thus far. I tried desperately to act like I wasn't completely falling apart inside. My heart was being ripped out of my chest with each tear he shed. My soul was on fire with a wide assortment feelings ranging from anger, rage, despair, and confusion.  I hated this disease with a renewed passion. I was older now, I’d grown in compassion, and I loved this bright-eyed boy with every fiber of my being. This time there would be no trump card to justify his pain. This time there would be no reconciling with a loving Father who knows all and has our best interest in mind even when I couldn't see it. 

I watched his parents and grandparents ache as he suffered through the first few extremely difficult months. As his father before him, he showed outstanding resilience and courage as he struggled to adjust to this new life. Knowing that my father, my brother, myself or anyone else in our family would have done anything within their human capacity to stop the suffering of our little guy, just drove this disconnect home for me. As I shifted these thoughts to a larger scale, knowing that my compassionate, earthly father would never let even his enemy go hungry made the idea of world hunger, poverty, and suffering under the watchful eye of a loving, all-knowing, all-powerful God that much more deplorable to me. I am grateful to have known what true love actually looks like, and what I continually saw from God’s corner was in no way loving in nature.

Once again, I was faced with that same dilemma. I was face to face with my doubt in a loving, caring, all-powerful God, and I knew that one of us wouldn't leave that emergency room unscathed.  That night in that tiny room, I said goodbye to my idea of God once and for all. I had come to a resolution. That child laying there with tears in his eyes was proof enough for me that either God did not exist or he knowingly and willingly allowed this innocent child to suffer. Either explanation held the same outcome: In the early morning hours, I walked out of that room an ex-follower of God.


Some would instantly write me off as jaded and bitter, but some know what I'm talking about even if they can't admit it....