Gray Grief

It's late April 2008. It's a warm and breezy afternoon, with a gray sky and intermittent peeps of sunshine. My carpet is vaccuumed, my dishwasher is loaded, most of my laundry is done, the groceries are purchased, my yard is mowed, and all should be right in the world. But my mind is gray like the sky.

I caught myself just now thinking, "It's such a nice day, I wish I could be happy."

Now, I am not feeling sorry for myself. I'm not unhappy. I'm just not happy. I'm not contented. Waves of angst continually wash over me like the breezes outside. Gas prices are climbing, surpassing what I've ever seen in my life. Our district is laying off teachers; "always" needing qualified teachers has reached its epoch (well, perhaps the district will still need qualified teachers, but the district is at this juncture unable to pay them). Housing has hit critical mass with defaulting mortgages and stalled home values. Prices are climbing for everything, not just gas, and whispers of food shortages and water shortages prey on the minds of those already in the grips of consumer hysteria.

I don't know that I'm hysterical, but certainly, the angst is exhausting.

The bottom line is that the poor people least able to afford these evolutions of the economy... young families, those working for little more than minimum wage, and those on fixed incomes... are not going to be able to survive, let alone make progress, at least for a while. There may be some sacrifice, if not actual suffering, in store for our nation, individually and together, in the coming months.

I could go into a diatribe of everything that's wrong with our country, but perhaps this point in history, we're part of what's really a global situation, not a national one. Pointing fingers is less useful than living conservatively and spending wisely. The truth is that factors beyond our borders play a huge role in our country's economic welfare, and besides, in a situation of this magnitude, it's impossible to blame or credit any one person or faction with responsibility for the problems or solutions.

Yet, as I sit here, I can only wish I could be happy.

Fifty years ago, the national problems were different; our economy was still coasting on a WWII-induced upswing. Who wanted to think of the boom ending or the wonderful national party finally hitting curfew? But it did. In the 1960's, America swapped safe tradition for the charismatic 1960's, and then in the 1970's, the price of gas was surpassed only by the length of lines of cars at the pump. Things changed. Unimaginably. Unpredictably. Yet reliably.

So now is now. And in another year... in another five years... we'll have a methodology in our lifestyles that nobody now can possibly predict or understand, however wise we think we are, however much we're too arrogant to admit it.

While any liberal environmentalist panicmonger can scream about water shortages or carbon emissions, at the same time as he or she screams, everything is changing. Others are designing newer and better ways to build cars, renew resources, and maximize efficiency. The world in which we live is not going to erode steadily in the coming decades, the world in which we live will evolve in coming decades. We must evolve with it.

Perhaps I could exchange the luxury of grief over the uncontrollable elements of daily life for faith in the American spirit. Americans are free. Some people abuse that freedom with sketchy lifestyles. Some abuse our country's goodwill by taking over-advantage of myriad social programs. Some steal from our country by living and working here illegally. Yet, the American entrepreneural spirit is one in which I have some faith. American ingenuity is a beautiful thing. I have enough faith to eschew fear. I must remember that.

Grief is a feeling of loss of something beloved and necessary. But what have I lost that is beloved and necessary? My feelings of safety and security? Feelings are neither beloved or necessary. My hard-earned money? I have enough, and while nobody I know is partying to pay more at the pump, so far nobody's really driving much less, either.

Save the grief for something worth it.

Surprises

I've been surprised to realize lately that not only fear of further suffering is preventing me from wanting to date, but also my own dissatisfaction with myself is a huge stumbling block.

While I myself may like myself better than I did years ago, I fall so far short of my own expectations for myself, it's impossible for me to imagine anyone else finding me acceptable, let alone desirable.

The saddest part is that if someone did indeed "like me anyway," I would neither believe him or have any respect for him. The scariest part of admitting that little tidbit is that I think that's always why I've "aimed low," so to speak, when it comes to men. For example, I've already admitted that I adored my ex-husband because it's how I wanted to feel about my husband. He wasn't worthy of it, but I overlooked it at the time to suit my own need. So, in other words, this self-perception problem is actually not new. It's just new to my enlightened self.

So what do I think is wrong with me that no one worth it could love me?

This is difficult to list.

First, I don't think I'm pretty enough. I don't think I'm fit enough (though I work out all the time), I don't like my complexion, and I'm kind of disheveled most of the time. I admire those feminine, finished looking girls with smooth hair and clothes that fit like they were tailor-made. They're not me, and I don't understand a man who'd prefer me to one of them.

I don't think I'm mature. I'm stubborn, and it's getting worse as I get older. I don't enjoy responsibility. My house is noticably "organic," though it's clean, and it's a heroic effort to stay even minimally organized at work. There's an artlessness about my lifestyle that, if I encountered it in another, would drive me mad. So I'd expect it to drive someone else mad to find it in me.

Then... I find myself unable to accept that "sometimes marriages don't work." In my naive mind, divorce was never an option for me when I married; I assumed that it wasn't for him, and I was wrong. I see as a divorced person how accepting people are... I am grateful for their compassion but at the same time vaguely horrified by it. It's an actual option. Not working out a marriage is an option. Of course I'd never have married someone I thought would leave me. Little did I know that, hey, divorce happens! It's really an option, and anyone can get one, and nobody else can do anything about it. Wow, what an eye opener! It would take an eternity for me to believe that a man wants, really wants, what I want and will do what it takes to have it.

Writing these truths has helped me.

I mean, I think that for myself, I look just fine, but what's actually most important to me is that I am healthy, and I am doing the right things to stay that way. I actually admire myself for working to maintain my God-given health. To me myself, that's more important than how I look. Couldn't it be more important to a man that my health is a priority to me over how I look physically, all on its own?

As for my stubbornness, well, I've lived alone for a long time, and it's only natural I've arranged my lifestyle to suit myself. However, I recognize that I'm perfectly happy to collaborate with people whom I recognize as worthy of my respect and esteem. I do think a man's job is to lead, however traditional that is of me, but the need for him to have my sincere respect (not the pro-forma respect I gave my ex-husband because, well, I wanted to respect my husband; I did it backwards) is paramount. If I found a genuine leader in my life, a person with the vision to take us forward together, I really believe I'd enjoy collaborating with him, even if it means giving up some of my independence.

I never expected to search for a relationship with a man at this stage in my life... I saw all my friends and relatives marry in their youth and then grow up together. My role-modeling doesn't fit my current circumstances. It might be a wise idea for me to search out some second-marriage people and ask for them to share their wisdom. This is a whole new row to hoe.

Tranquility

In my personal life, I have achieved about month 13 of peace and tranquility. A few realities have come to light:

I recognize now that tangibly, I am separate from my marriage and divorce. I see myself as entire person in my own right, now. How can I tell? When I read articles about the aftermath of divorce now, my response is, "This doesn't apply to me." The wound is healed, though perhaps some scars remain. Maybe some always will... maybe not. Regardless, it's all okay.

I recognize now that a year ago, when I wanted a boyfriend and chose to explore online dating, I quite simply wasn't ready, not for the excitement or the anxiety, the risk and the judgement and the rejection... or the flip side of love and support and nurturing. I wasn't strong enough on my own to share me with anyone else. Am I now? Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, it's all okay.

I recognize now that my individuality is not only acceptable but essential for my adult peace of mind. In recognize that in some ways, I extended my childlike role with my parents into my marriage; I kept my own counsel and never challenged him or stood up for my needs (though the courtship was the place for such testing; had I been stronger during the courtship, I could have spared myself the divorce). That error is my role in my divorce. I forgive myself for it, for being naive, for choosing unwisely, and for making a mistake that offends my moral values. All I can do is improve the next time. If there is one.

I recognize that people are inherently flawed, so expecting them to support me in ways both physical and emotional sets me up for failure. That is, the people do not fail me, it's my misplaced expectations of the people and misuse of our relationship, or needing them beyond their capabilities, that fails me. For this, faith is essential. I am wary of "religion," especially the cult-like attitudes and behaviors I've encountered, but I retain an old-fashioned faith. I am an important part of this burgeoning universe. I have purpose and merit. I am forgiven my transgressions. The love that created me is the only thing that can also sustain me with purpose, strength, and clarity. Perhaps the faithless see this process of faith as "looking within yourself" to find what I need. For that, perhaps it is; faith is not empiricle. At the same time, I know how easy it is to lie to myself. It's harder to lie when God is refereeing.

I realize that my essential unhappiness comes from failing to meet my own expectations for moving into the future. After the divorce, I wanted to "be better" as fast as possible, not endure an extra second of suffering. I figured, "fake it until I make it." But I didn't count on bitterness. I didn't count on a serious hit to my self-esteem. I didn't grasp what had happened to my ability to trust others. Actually, my faith in others, borne of a lifetime of nurturing stability and unselfish love from my family, was such a defining characteristic of my personality that losing it created an enormous psychological wound. A void. While I have begun to fill that void and grow into the person I am as I sit here, this person is not same person, and trusting others is hard now. I realize it, though. Maybe that's good. Regardless, it's all okay.

I am scared a lot still. That's okay too. Feeling scared is just a feeling. So I'll feel it. But I am a heroine. Courage doesn't mean I never feel scared. Courage means persevering in spite of it.

And I give myself bonus points for trying. Always trying! Trying to move forward, even when I go two steps back. Even when I know people want to scream. Even when I want to scream at myself. In the end, it's been an adventure. I've learned a lot, and I'm a better person for it. I like myself better now than I did four years ago, though I'm not happy most of the time. That's ironic. And, it's okay.

Heroism

I have decided to be a heroine.

Fortunately, that's all it takes, to decide. Somehow, that orchestrates all the debris in my head, gives me an orientation, and provides focus on minutiae in life.

I AM a heroine.

So I have stress at work. A hero is stronger than mere stress! A hero sees the difficult people as incidental to the purpose and importance of what he is doing, the mere cost of doing business, so to speak. A hero strives in spite of impediments to do the best job possible at all times. Therefore, no matter what stress I have at work, I can remain, entirely, a heroine.

So I feel lonely without my family. Well, heroes often deal with disadvantageous to downright desperate circumstances, but they realize that it's not something they can control right away. Rather than grieving their situation, they focus on the positives, not on what they don't have, and bide their time until circumstances can change. In other words, a situation doesn't define the hero. The hero manages himself with distinction in the situation.

A hero is not perfect, however. Odysseus found himself waylaid many times on his travels back to Ithaca. Modern heroes like JFK or the Princess of Wales were all too human in their private lives, yet they're largely respected, if not revered. What allows the hero to remain the hero in the face of his human fallibility? Well, the hero is human; he is not going to be perfect. But he is going to maintain his sense of hope. While Odysseus frolicked on his way home to his wife, he never forgot Penelope was waiting for him in Ithaca, and the idea inspired his hope when his energy or conviction flagged. JFK's immoral private life and controversial presidency in no way shaded the light of hope that illuminated his generation. Diana's struggles through the travails of life inspired the rest of us to sustain ourselves through our own hard times.

And the example of Jesus, who never gave up in the face of persecution, torture, and execution reminds us all that that no matter how bad our lives may be or get or seem, it all could be very, very much worse. Yet, we always can maintain our dignity.

Heroes.

In an article by Oliver Stone, he describes his growth in the perspective of heroism. He said when he was small, heroes were public figures like George Washington or Abraham Lincoln, people who symbolized strength and character. But as an adult, he believes that heroes are the regular people who do the right thing in the face of challenge: kids who say no to drugs, parents who instill children with values and morals, people who take on a task and honor it and thereby honor themselves.

The Flight 93 heroes realized their plight, and they made sure the world heard their voices, and they saved hundreds of lives. They rose to an occasion that everyone understood merited fear. They are heroes.

Then, I am a hero. I am a heroine. When the road gets tough is when the heroism can emerge, right? So if the next few months are hard for me, well, that's the price a heroine has to pay. That's all.

Religion, Realization, and Introspction

Rambling Stream of Consciousness Alert!

Having just reread the biography Elizabeth and Philip about two people whom I greatly admire. It's perhaps odd then that what struck me most this time was a note at the end. Introspection is worthless, this person in the book asserted, speaking of how the queen and her consort find the ability to carry on. In a nutshell -- avoid it.

Coincidentally, today I read an online article complaning about people who draw themselves so far inward, they've forgetten how to play well with others and don't even realize what crappy friends they've become to those in outside world. Sounds terrible, doesn't it?

Interesting perspectives. I certainly spend a wealth of time on introspection, and while I hope I've achieved some measure of self-understanding, at the same time, the value of that understanding is moot if I don't play "with the three dimensional people," to quote Phoebe Buffay.

It's exhausting. We may, might, must address multiple responsibilities in a successful day of real life, all the while aspiring, striving, and yearning for more money, security, belonging by way of investing more time, more energy, and more focus on everything from holidays to pseudosocial functions at work. Beyond work, if I want my life to be successful, I have to go, fight, and win endless battles to be better, stronger, braver, a harder worker, and more determined than the people around me to favorably compete. And when I'm home and have no people around me, I'm supposed to fix that, too, if it's not what I want, by dating, mating, and procreating. Therefore, its essential to banish the gray, clear the skin, and dress according to the edicts of What Not to Wear, maximizing my potential.

Now I'm really exhausted. No wonder when I get home every day, all I want to do is sit on the couch.

There is more to life than this.

So I was looking at my pets and thinking about how much more I know about life than they do. I know what will happen to them. I know how long they'll live, all things being equal, and what their eventual health slowdowns will be like. I know they will be afraid as they age and feel pain they don't understand, and I know that however much it hurts me, I will probably have to euthanize them eventually, when they've declined to the point of fearful desperation.

And it connected in my head that God is like that. God knows what we don't know about our own lives the same way I know more about my cats. And beyond knowing, the future IS, which is an idea I've expressed before. God sees time in both directions, the future and the past... and realizing that truth, suddenly, the free will question evaporated from my mind. It's all decided, as far as God goes. What is IS. Always was. God knows if I will repair my Catholicism, God knows if I will find lasting happiness in a relationship with a man, God knows if I will spend the rest of my life sitting on this couch feeling exhausted by myriad hurdles. What's left is for ME to find out. Trite though it may sound, the value really is the journey. It's all about me, or more to the point, it's all about each of us. We have all our blessings. They're there for the taking. We just have to recognize them.

(Most especially, God knows the resolution of the religions and their discord, and he knows the nature of man and the frustrations of humanity... I am not confident enough to espouse a particular religion as the correct one, but I'm able to assert that God, whatever or whoever he or she is, is, in fact... but I can't and shall not misrepresent my belief that the Bible is as fallible as the human people who set it to paper, though it very well may be divinely inspired... but I can and must assert that I do believe that God is, though our human words and descriptions must fall far short of the actual, and I believe in the Bible as a book of how to live well, how to live right, and how to live successfully... however much people find the means to justify mean to terrible to terrifying behavior by way of its pages... it's a life book, and it's a source of answers... it's not a "get out of jail free" card.)

This idea came through poignantly at work today, where a student with more than his fair share of bad luck got even more bad news over the weekend. How much can a kid bear, especially when his family is suffering from past tragedies still and can't lend him the support or help to deal with his own adolescent and actual trials? But the gifts are there for him, if he avails himself to them. The school knows and cares about his welfare. He has love in his life, but he will have to be strong, a lot stronger than perhaps he can be right now. Stronger than he knows he can be, or stronger than he wants to be. But he has to do the heavy lifting in his life.

I've had to do it, too. And I hated it. I still resent it when I let myself think about it.

My neighbor says what I have left to do in my journey to wholly repair myself is find my passion. There's a problem with that. I don't have one, and that's a bit unimaginative of me, so I hate admitting it. I like to write, I love to read, and I've become rabid about exercising, but none of those interests are actual passions within me. Well, perhaps reading is a passion, but I don't recognize it as one because it's like breathing or eating to me, a necessary component of my daily life for survival. Either way, my love of reading isn't a way that I can find and sustain personal bliss, let alone support myself.

However, I know now to start looking outward. Looking inside myself isn't going to result in fulfillment. The blessings are in my life, out in my life, and I have to find them before I can recognize them.

Two Struggles

I am having a really hard time getting past a sense of futility that's flourishing in my head. It's not personal futility, it's sort of societal futility. The quantity of negativity in modern press begs the question, how bad are things really? If they're as bad as they sound, it's hardly even worth fighting to make anything better, because I think there's hardly a chance of improvement.

My preoccupation with the suckage of life in general has graduated to the degree that I've sworn off Foxnews.com entirely (the pervasiveness of perverted stories... people killed in terrible ways, animals tortured, bizarre goings-on with drugs, rapes, and other violent crimes has grown too distressing to see in the headlines there, let alone read in the articles... it makes me physically ill) and read only with great trepidation the rest of the news sites I frequented each day.

I really want to know, are more bad things happening in the modern era, or are we just hearing more about them? Was there really less bad news in days gone by, or did we merely hear about it less, as news traveled slowly and what counted as news didn't involve six hundred pound cows falling on cars or one man's effort to shoot a fifteen year old boy over road range?

Then it gets bigger... the news is bigger. Whether or not I endorse the global warming rationale of the earth's climate change, hearing the predictions of dying wildlife and fossil fuel shortages stress me exponentially. Christians and their warnings of eternal damnation unless I and everyone else accept Christ stress me. My broken fence... how people are paying for Christmas... my skin... Baby Grace... flooding in the yard... fires in California... flying in this terroristic era... finding someone to love... dealing with holidays... spending, gifts, regifting, parties, turkeys, travel... it all just freaking sucks and makes me frustrated, frightened, and furious all in equal measure.

Life happens! Life happens, and yet, we're supposed to fight it! Why can't we just live it?

There was a wonderful article on our hometown paper website not long ago about the migration of the peregrine falcons through the city. The article extolled the power of these predatory birds as they'd dive from the skyscrapers to feast upon pestilence-spreading rats and pigeons, both of which run rampant downtown, with no natural predators. Not a word about the struggle of the peregrine falcon to fight extinction. Not a complaint about the bird decimating the population of some obscure and terribly threatened source of prey. It was an article remarkable for its local relevance and enchanted tone. It's quite a contrast to most of the other articles that comprise modern news.

All these stories about tortured pets and other animals... why doesn't someone write about a wonderful, pampered pet? A story about a pet that lives a good life, and a story that doesn't include the pet's inevitable aging and eventual decline? Why do all of us have to suffer? Are we so lacking in a catharsis?

Some people are happy, I suppose... a couple of my gym friends, a couple of people at work, and a few of my relatives I'd put on that list... but a lot of people in my world seem to be suffering. Two friends are contemplating ending their marriages. Another friend of a friend has already ended hers and is embarking already on her next. Toxic personalities in my radar decry the establishment and maintenance of romantically exclusive relationships as unnatural and artificial. I begin to wonder... everything is so askew as I've seen it lately, well, maybe those people are right. While my upbringing and my nature has always assumed that close and significant relationships contribute to a person's sense of well being and esteem, everybody seems so screwed up. My ex husband. My ex boyfriend. Some of my friends, apparently. I will not find the stability I crave, because I am beginning to think I am my own stability I crave, and I refuse to invite a man in my life if the disease of instability is something he carries with him.

I think everything is just toxic. The society's toxic perspective is infiltrating the passionate natures of people I know, and rather than find strength from one another, they find one another part of the problem.

That brings to mind another issue that has been bothering me. The whole idea that we can't judge one another is bullshit. It's complete and utter bullshit. If I had faced the music when I was dating my ex husband, then I would have judged him and found him wanting. He was not an honorable man. Yet, because "judging people" is so evil or inappropriate according to modern dogma, I avoided holding him at all accountable for the things he did that didn't fit with my own values. These weren't things he hid from me, these were sins, so to speak, in plain sight. Incidents that I explained away by bathing them in the panacea of love. What a fool I was. I cannot, I must not do that again. If someone does something not worthy of my respect or admiration... then he does not merit a place in my life. My job is not to find a way to respect and admire him anyway. My job is to move on.

I've said this before in other posts, but I guess it bears repeating. In the last few days, I've tallied up the events from my relationship with my husband that distressed or provoked me, and it's as clear as anything that I chose to ignore, reframe, or dismiss some terribly telling choices he made. They include:

1. Ignoring the son he fathered by an ex girlfriend before we met. He claimed she was cheating on him, so he wasn't going to believe that child was his without a DNA test. Even when his paternity was a fact, he still ignored the child. I made this okay in my own head by figuring that the girlfriend had a new husband, so the baby had two "parents" in his life that loved him. I ignored the spiritual and character flaw my ex exhibited.

2. Hiding smoking from me... the smoking at all enraged me, and he knew that, so his solution was to hide it, not to stop it, and that enraged me further. My mom's advice was, "Go home to your husband, because you're married, and if he isn't doing this around you, it's not hurting you." She had a point. I was married; we weren't just dating. So I dealt with it.

3. Opening an online account that he kept secret from me. He said he was doing it only for the duration of the free trial, so I overlooked it. I told him I wanted him to close it, and so far as I know, he did.

4. Once when we were out at the rodeo or a concert or somewhere, he bought beers for the underage kids sitting behind us. I was so disgusted with him, I could barely talk.

These are the things that now, I realize were flags. Some happened after the marriage, when I was limited by the vows to influence, but there was no opting out. Short of abuse, addictions, or adultery, I'd never have left or even have threatened to.

Maybe I should just be grateful that he left, but he didn't drive me away by being cruel... bringing home a girlfriend to snort cocaine with him and then to join us in a threesome, smacking me around when I balked.

I'm just tired of negativity. This blog is pretty negative. I want to feel happy, not worried about the end of the world and all that leads to it.

Biblical Tradition

I was talking to a friend last week about homosexuality. She's a Christian woman in the best sense of the word. She's open, she's loving, she's affectionate, and she's both comfortable with and a testament to her faith, approaching it with humility and dedication that I admire. So, as the idea of homosexuality being "wrong" has been lurking in my mind recently, I decided to ask her what she thinks.

Sometimes, I get nervous asking self-professed Christians questions like that, lest they start spouting Biblical rhetoric with which I am unfamiliar or unprepared to analyze in context. Also, I get impatient with Bible-speak, because I want to know what the person thinks, not what the doctrine may or may not say. It unnerves me to suspect a friend has no genuine independent opinion and has become a parrot of an ancient text. But as I said, this wide-hearted woman of faith considers the data and works out her ideas for herself.

"I think it's wrong," she said immediately. "If I were, well, like that, I'd never act on it. I can't imagine violating the law of the Bible by having a sexual relationship with a woman."

This answer interested me, because she applied the rules as she understands them to herself alone. She didn't say homosexuals are wrong. She said, only, that she would not do something she believes is wrong.

I mentioned that the Bible also says things like selling your sister into slavery is okay, so long as it's not a neighboring country to which you sell her. She smiled a little. "The old testament has a lot of contextual situations that don't apply to the modern world," she remarked.

"But the homosexuality rules are part of the old testament," I said, being reasonably sure this was true from my Bible.com research. "What does the new testament say about it?" My friend didn't know, and again, I admired her ability to admit her lack of knowledge on this touchy topic. Most "Christians" I know are more eager to spout their beliefs than to consider the nature of an intelligent discussion on doctrine, at least with me.

Now, I know that in the beliefs of most Christian denominations, though not all, the new testament "trumps" the old. For example, Jews cannot eat pork or shellfish due to kosher laws, but most Christians can. Some don't, like the Adventists, but most believe all food is fine. Their rationale is that Jesus said that food is not what makes a person unclean. "Not what enters into the mouth defiles the man, but what proceeds out of the mouth, this defiles the man . . . Do you not understand that everything that goes into the mouth passes into the stomach, and is eliminated? But the things that proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and those defile the man" (Matt. 15:11, 17f). So the Christians figure that people can't eat anything that renders them unclean, so eat on. New testament trumping the old.

So logically, whatever the new testament says about homosexuality trumps the old.

Jesus says nothing about it.

Now, I understand the rationale for the proposed Christian view of homosexuality, which is first cousin to its views on extramarital sex and birth control. The prevailing attitude is that sex is akin to life, and life matters. That sex is not just an expression of love or biochemical urge, but a conduit to the creation of life, a gift from God. As such, preserving the opportunity for life is an act with value worth preserving if not outright elevating. It's an act truncated in a homosexual relationship, which includes no opportunity for the creation of life. It's an act curtailed by birth control, by eliminating the opportunity for life. It's an act that invites opportunity for abortion -- the end of life -- or pain and suffering of the partners or their ostensible offspring when it occurs outside of a sanctified relationsip. Christians believe marriage is a sacrament to house the act of sex and the creation of life. Removing the chance for life turns the act of love into a mere act of fornication, an act merely for pleasure and physical gratification without humility, respect, or honor.

However hypocritcally it might seem to those who know me, I believe in that rationale.

At the same time, I believe that people are going to do what they're going to do, and sometimes, well, following doctrine isn't the most important consideration, or at least, it's not the most compelling one in given moment. If those decisions are mistakes and lead to suffering, then to great regret, maybe that person will repent in some cosmic way, finding his or her path to greater oneness with whatever God he or she understands. Will do better next time. All people suffer, but people who find humility in their decisions to elevate themselves and learn, instead of making the same mistakes over and over. I want to be like that.

At the same time, if Jesus didn't condemn the homosexuals, then who am I to do it?