The
other day I met with a friend of mine—a non-Mormon, very spiritual man who has
committed much of his life to Christ-like service within the LGBTQ community. He
is kind, wise, and it is remarkably easy to see my Savior very much alive in
both the words and the actions of this man.
We
ended up, as we usually do, talking about things of a spiritual nature—specifically,
about our own understanding of the nature of God."How," he asked, "do remain so confident about who you are and what you're doing in the face of so many who criticize you?"
Somewhere
along the journey of my life, I shared, I bought into a notion of God as a punishing,
spiteful, vindictive and judgmental God—quick to smite me if I made a misstep,
and slow to love me again, if ever. This concept was resinscribed, it seemed,
when I heard others (including leaders within my own faith) interpret scripture
to say that God demands perfection and has a zero tolerance policy for those
who commit transgression, whether it be by choice or by happenstance.
That
was a dark and terrifying way to live. With that kind of vision of God, I had
to live a faultless life, and if it were true that God has no tolerance for
sin, then it would be up to me to perfect myself first, before I presented myself
to Him. Worsening things was the consistent counsel to develop my own, personal
relationship with God. Well, quite frankly, when I held a vision of Him as such
a terrifying figure not only did I fear building a relationship with Him, but
quite honestly imagined myself to have a better life on my own. After all, who
wants to have someone—anyone—looking over our shoulder who is just waiting for
us to mess up so they can condemn us?
I
decided that I had to completely toss out what I thought I knew about my Savior
and learn for myself. I began simply, just sitting in a room quietly and beginning
to talk to Him the same way I would talk to a trusted friend. By experimenting
with a combination of prayer (speaking to my Savior) and meditation (listening
for His response) I began, over the course of a few months, to feel more
comfortable with this new relationship. This step, for me, was not about church.
It wasn’t about any specific religion at all. It was simply about building my
own personal understanding of a Savior who would be with me anywhere at anytime—not
just one who was accessible for a few hours on Sunday.
And
over time, I came to an incredibly simple conclusion—my Savior is my best
friend. He shares my hopes, my dreams, my heartache, and my failures. I am free
to bring my entire self to this relationship—things that would have been off
limits with my previous understanding of God—including intimacy and
shortcomings.
Today,
I can say anything to my Savior—He knows me that well. Even when I am not at my
most eloquent, I can still express my feelings and thoughts stumblingly, and I
know He understands my intent. At times, I get angry, like a little child, and
kick and yell and want my own way. Then I get to apologize to Him, and through
that process, our relationship deepens.
He
knows my fears, my defects and my mistakes. He also knows my capacity, my
worth, my assets and successes. He knows what I need and provides it for me,
even when my sight is not keen enough to ask for it. He gently, and often with
a great sense of humor, pushes me in the direction of His will for me. When I
have questions, I know it’s okay to ask. My Savior never makes me feel stupid
or wrong. He gives me choices—and when I make a mistake, it’s okay. That
process only makes us closer.
Developing
this relationship with my Savior didn’t only change my understanding of Him, I explained to my friend, it
changed my life. Today, I can say with complete certainty, that I am much less
reliant on the opinions, needs, and demands of others. I need no longer look
outside myself for validation. When I'm right with my Savior, I don't really need to be right with anyone else, regardless of their title or position in my life. All the other stuff falls into place easily and effortlessly, or it falls away completely.
What
a much better life it is to have Him as my friend, and to have shrugged off the
concept of a God who wants me to suffer because of my mistakes.
Sure,
there are those who say my version of my Savior is inaccurate and how I
approach Him is even disrespectful—and they are free to have their own
understanding of Him, as well. But for me, I’ve genuinely grown to believe that
when it comes to my relationship with my Savior the only truly disrespectful
thing I can do is to lie to Him, and bring some pre-packaged version of myself
to our relationship. After all, He can’t really help me become the person we
both want me to be if I am not rigorously honest with Him.
How
will you cultivate your relationship with your Savior today?
