And Now For Something Gross

So I have been feeling under the weather the last couple of weeks off and on. One day I'll feel fine, and then the next day I'll feel terrible, and then just when I feel I'm rebounding, the cycle starts over again.

My symptoms have primarily consisted of joint aches (the kind one gets when they have the flu) and general fatigue. Sometimes, however, there has also been congestion and fever.

On Friday a new element appeared. It hurt to swallow, and gave me a painful sensation seemingly deep inside my ear that felt like an ear infection. I finally decided to have myself checked out by a doctor.

So he looks in my ear and doesn't see anything. Next he examines my throat and says, "Whoa, you've got a giant canker sore on your tonsil.

I am surprised that I even have a tonsil since I got mine out when I was eleven, but lo and behold, my tonsils have grown back (at least partially), which apparently is not as uncommon as I believed it was. I have no idea how long I have actually had my newly-discovered tonsils, but I assume they have been there a while.

Anyway, the doctor said that, really, the best thing to do was to let the canker run its course. Anyway, today my throat felt even worse (I couldn't even sleep last night because it hurt to swallow), so I went to another doctor for a second opinion. Lo and behold, I actually have a second canker growing on my tonsil behind my tongue. I was also running a 100 degree fever. Anyway, I've been tested for a couple of viruses and should get the results soon. In the meantime, my doctor prescribed me some antibiotics (in case it isn't a virus) and gave me some lidocaine which I gargle with some Maalox, and that does ease the pain somewhat.

In any case, I would not wish these two canker sores on my worst enemy. It has really been quite painful. Eating yogurt today was a feat! In fact, I haven't eaten much today because it hurts so much. One website said, "One of the most painful types of canker sores you get is a canker sore in the tonsil," and I am finding that to be true.

Fortunately, I tested negative for strep throat and, happily, these sores have not affected my ability to sing and act, which of course, is very important for my job. But I have felt pretty crappy all week and today, in particular.

Anyway, here's some photos of one of my canker sores (the other, more painful, one is behind my tongue and was too hard to photograph. Both cankers are about the same size (slightly smaller than a dime), and they suck!

That white spot down right of my uvula is canker #1. Canker # 2 is below right of it, behind my tongue, but proved too difficult to photograph.



Here is a closeup of canker #1 (I think these two cankers are the largest I have ever had in my life):



Another closeup of canker #1 (the white mass down right of my uvula):



TMI? Probably.

The Trio of Benoit, Ray, And Cody: Mission Friendships That Have Endured

I've written about Benoit before. He was a guy I taught on my mission, and you can read much about him in that post.

On Facebook the other day, my old missionary companion (let's call him Ray) wrote that he had visited our dear friend, Benoit recently and said the following:

I just returned from visiting [the city in which we served] (I'm still a bit jet lagged). I was their for 10 days and had a lovely time. I hope you will smile to know that your missionary efforts of 18 years ago continue to bring about good.-- I stayed with [Benoit], his wife, and their two boys (ages 9 and 5). -- What a beautiful family! --- [Benoit's] mother (who if you remember said she would disown [Benoit] if he joined the Mormon church) was baptized earlier this year. [Benoit] now serves as the bishop of the...ward.

My goodness, that warmed my heart! To see this man get baptized, serve a mission, get married in the temple, have a family, and now serve as a bishop (and I would bet millions he's a great one) in the ward we served in when we taught him just makes me weep with joy. I thank my Father in Heaven that I was privileged enough to be involved in Benoit's initial conversion and to see how far he's come since then. It really fills me with gratitude. I am honored that God allowed me to be one of the missionaries who was there when His Holy Spirit helped Benoit gain a testimony.

I wrote Benoit on Facebook:

[Ray] said he saw you, and that you are the bishop in [the city where we served] now. He also said that you and your family are well. I am so happy that you are still strong in the gospel. I miss you a lot, my friend.

All my love,

[Cody]

Benoit replied:

I miss you, too, my eternal friend. I am thankful that you and [Ray] saved my life. I would love so much to see you again one day, but at the moment it isn't possible for us to come to Utah. I would love to present to you my family so that you can know them. God bless you, my friend. Lots of love.

[Benoit]

I'd like to remind Benoit that it wasn't Ray and I that saved his life, but his loving and watchful Heavenly Father. I'm so glad that life has given Benoit everything I always thought he deserved. Yea!

Ray's brother is gay, and Ray wrote me (in the same note):

One day I want to understand your situation better (if you are willing to share). I suppose it is too complex a discussion for facebook, so perhaps we will save it for a time we get to catch-up in person. My intent is not one of simple "curiosity"-- but truly to better understand.

I shared with him some thoughts (many of which I've written in this blog). Ray then wrote:

...a theme I have picked-up on over the past several years of General Conference [is] what we do is certainly important; but more important is what we become.-- Or said in another way: we are wise to monitor how our thoughts and actions shape how charitably we feel towards others, because in the end (as the scriptures teach) we will be judge by our hearts and how charitable we have become.-- I lack the ability to put myself in your shoes, and know how you feel-- but it is impressive that you continue to focus on being kind, and loving (as Christ would be), even toward people who fail to see that their own sins of pride & selfishness are a weightier matter to God than the gender to which a man or woman feels attracted.---- Well we both have 50 more years on this planet-- during which we will have the opportunity to discuss this issue further. Until then my good friend...

Love,

Ray

I replied:

Thanks for your thoughts, [Ray]. I agree with what you've said. As for me, I'm just trying to live the best life I can and take comfort that my Father is my ultimate judge. I just hope I am doing Him proud.

Love ya lots,

[Cody]

to which he replied:

Your comment made me smile really big. -- I happen to love the writings of C.S. Lewis. A great quote from his book Mere Christianity says this:

"Some of us who seem quite nice people may, in fact, have made so little use of a good heredity and a good upbringing that we are really worse than those whom we regard as fiends. Can we be quite certain how we should have behaved if we had been saddled with the psychological outfit, and then with the bad upbringing, and then with the power, say, of Himmler? That is why Christians are told not to judge. We see only the results which a man's choices make out of his raw material. But God does not judge him on the raw material at all, but on what he has done with it. Most of the man's psychological makeup is probably due to his body: when his body dies all that will fall off him, and the real central man, the thing that chose, that made the best or the worst out of this material, will stand naked. All sorts of nice things which we thought our own, but which were really due to a good digestion, will fall off some of us : all sorts of nasty things which were due to complexes or bad health will fall off others. We shall then, for the first time, see every one as he really was. There will be surprises. -- Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis"
END OF QUOTE

Lewis wasn't speaking directly to the homosexual issue-- so you will forgive such terms as 'fiend'.-- I love how he points out that we all start with different "raw material"-- and God is more interested in seeing our efforts to turn our raw material into something acceptable to Him-- and less interested in what our raw material has actually become.--- In short-- He wants to see us each do the best that we can, with what we have been given.-- As Christians we should not think that each of our 'best efforts' will look the same from a surface glace.-- Lewis doesn't speak from the light of the restored gospel-- so he is not accurate in his understanding of our body not being a factor n the final judgment-- but I believe his principle is correct.

And I said:

I believe his principle is correct, too. I really like that book. Lots of good stuff in it. Thanks for sharing it.

I like C.S Lewis. He was a good man. So are Ray and Benoit.

Members Of The Body, All Important

The other day in church our instructor in Sunday School was talking about how all of us are needed. It's like the scriptures say,

For the body is not one member, but many.

If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?

And if the ear shall say, Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?

If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling?

But now hath God set the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased him.

And if they were all one member, where were the body?

But now are they many members, yet but one body.

And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of you.

Nay, much more those members of the body, which seem to be more feeble, are necessary:

And those members of the body, which we think to be less honourable, upon these we bestow more abundant honour; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness.

For our comely parts have no need: but God hath tempered the body together, having given more abundant honour to that part which lacked:

That there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for another.

And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.

(1 Corinthians 12: 14-26)

Sometimes when one goes to church, they may feel like they don't belong or they may feel misunderstood or shunned or feel like they aren't contributing.

Heck, as an excommunicated member of the LDS Church, I could choose to feel this way. But we are all important. We are all needed. The pinky toe is just as vital a member as the heart. The appendix is just as valid as the brain. The gall bladder is just as much a creation of the body as the mouth is. We are all here for a reason. God made the body the way he did for a reason, and likewise, he made each of us as members of the human family or ward family the way he did for a reason. We all have different contributions to make, different strengths and talents, and we are all here for an important reason.

I like that.

Pure Love

As I'm sure some of you are aware, Chieko Okazaki, who served as first counselor in the Relief Society from 1990-1997, passed away about a week ago. Sister Okazaki served in that position when I served as a missionary from 1992-1994. I loved her speaking style and her manner and found her very refreshing and open-minded. My mom sent me her book, Lighten Up when I was one my mission, and it helped me a great deal at a time when I was beating myself up for not living up to what I felt I was supposed to living up to. I love her writing style, and really felt that Sister Okazaki's words spoke to my spirit.

I eventually read her books, Aloha, Cat's Cradle, and Disciples, all of which I enjoyed. I intend to read her other books eventually. I'm sure I will like them as well.

In the article in the Salt Lake Tribune, which memorialized her, there was a quote from Sister Okazaki. It said, "Perfect people don’t need a savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections. He is the Lord of the living and the living make mistakes. He’s not embarrassed by us, angry at us, or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief.”

You know I really believe that. There was a time in life when I felt so unworthy and so much that I was disappointing God or making him sad. I no longer feel that way. God knows who I am and knows my heart perfectly, just as He knows you and yours. He is not embarrassed by us. He is not angry with us. He is not surprised or shocked by anything we do. He knows we're human and subject to human frailties and weaknesses. And he planned for that. We would have no need of a Savior if we were perfect, and I believe Jesus' atonement makes up for that which we lack. I believe our Father is more loving and merciful than we can possibly comprehend. I think as humans we often attribute a lot of our own negative qualities and emotions on our Creator because that is all we understand. We sometimes see God as angry or full of shame for us or disgusted by us. We see him as stern or think that some of the things we do are so bad that He couldn't possibly love or tolerate us. Some people think God hates them. I just don't believe that is who God is. Feel free to disagree all you want; but I don't believe that's what God is about.

Granted, religions sometimes teach us to feel this way or sometimes we misinterpret doctrine and that causes us to believe it is so. I also think our relationships with our imperfect human associates on this planet paint our attitudes and beliefs about our perfect Father in Heaven. Parents might throw their kids out or turn their backs on them because of behaviors they disapprove of, so we might feel that our Heavenly Father would do the same. We might be so disgusted by a person's actions that we find it nigh impossible to forgive them, so we think our Father would react the same way. We may be angry or disappointed at someone for perpetrating an act we find intolerable or unfavorable, so we assume our Father would behave the same way.

Here's the thing: how we view God is created by the filter our mortal life has given us. Our religious upbringings; what our parents taught us; what our social interactions with other human beings have taught us; the examples we see or read about, how people treat one another, etc.: these are all things that have an effect on how we view God (or on whether we even decide there is a God at all). But ultimately, how I view God these days is based very much on all those things, but also on one more thing: how He has dealt with me personally. I very much believe in an all-loving, very merciful, very understanding God because that is what I have felt from Him personally. It is what His spirit has spoken to my heart. I can't convince anyone else of what I have felt myself, but I know I have felt it, and I very much believe it.

We talk about charity or "the pure love of Christ" a lot, and I have really been thinking a lot about this lately. When one thinks about what purity means, it is something that is unmixed with anything else. It does not contain anything extraneous. It is completely free of taint, stain, spot, or imperfection. There is no harshness or roughness. It is absolute. It is free of any weakness or pollutants. It is undiluted, undefiled, completely refined, and unadulterated. All those human frailties and biases we attach to love in its human form do not taint God's pure love for us.

When we think of how our mortal bodies handle things in complete purity, it is actually overwhelming. Pure sunlight will burn or blind us. Pure oxygen in large and steady doses would actually cause brain damage. Things in their purest form are often overwhelming to our imperfect mortal bodies. I think God's love is impossible to fully comprehend in mortality, although I think we grow to understand it in bits and pieces. But I do believe His love is more powerful, more unconditional, more far-reaching, more compassionate, more forgiving, more merciful, more understanding, and, frankly, more loving than any of us here fully realize.

I see snatches of it in my fellow human beings: the victim who forgives the person that did them wrong; the parent who still loves their child in spite of their doing some awful things; the person who, in spite of terrible circumstances, is continually able to find the good in the situation; the man or woman who will give someone the shirt off their back to help them through a tough time; the huge amounts of generosity I see from people, giving all they can to help others - often complete strangers. So many examples of love. I have to remind myself of them when I read about the terrible things people sometimes do to one another.

I think heaven will be a wonderful place, far more joyful and free of much of the impurity that taints our current existence than we can fully understand. When I've read about near-death experiences, often people will talk about how they are given the opportunity to review the life they have lived, but there is no judgment coming from God, just love. In fact, most experiences I've read about indicate that any judgment is coming from the person who has "died," not God. And many people come back from these experiences trying to describe an indescribable love that is beyond anything they've known in mortality. Many of these people are left feeling that love is the most important lesson one can learn in mortality.

I also believe how we love or judge others in this life will have an effect on where we will end up in the next. But I also believe that where we ultimately end up is where we will be happiest or most at ease, and that, to me, is proof of a very loving Heavenly Father. God doesn't consign us to a lower kingdom because He doesn't love us; it's because He knows that the purity of His love would overwhelm our impure spirits. It's because He loves us that He puts us where we will thrive and grow and progress the most.

I love and believe in my Heavenly Father. I know he loves each and every one of us with an absolute perfect knowledge of who we are and what we have been through. I truly wish I could convey that love to others. Words are not enough. A person's spirit must feel it to know it. It is my hope that those of you who don't feel it or haven't felt it, will. Because He is real and His love is real.

Death

I think I've mentioned this before, but I don't have any problems with the topic of death. Some people are bothered by it or afraid of it or afraid of talking about it, but I am not one of them. While I miss my loved ones when they pass on, I feel very confident that I will see them again.

I actually enjoy going to funerals. I may not enjoy the reason I'm going, but I love hearing people reflect on a person's life and sharing stories and experiences involving that person, and generally a funeral celebrates a person's life and brings out the very best that person had to offer in his or her life, and I like that.

I am not afraid to die. I do not feel any reason to fear. Death is just a part of life, and a temporary one at that. We're all going to die someday. Tomorrow. A month from now. A year from now. 10 years from now. 40 years from now. It's going to happen eventually. None of us can escape it or outrun it, so why spend any energy or fear trying?

Even if heaven doesn't exist (which I very much believe it does), well then, we're just gone, so why fear that, either?

I think no matter what we've done in life, the afterlife will very much be a place filled with love and knowledge and goodness. Dallin H. Oaks once said, "The good people of the world will not be disappointed by the terrestrial kingdom. The bad people of the world will be utterly astonished to do as well as the telestial kingdom, for despite all of its relative drawbacks, it is a kingdom of glory reserved by a Father in Heaven who loves his children and ‘saves all the works of his hands." I feel good about my life. I have few regrets or unfinished business. I feel like I have done my best to live a good life, and I feel confident that wherever I end up in the afterlife, I will be happy. So what is there to fear about that?

I am not uncomfortable talking about death or talking about preparations that might make death easier for those one leaves behind. The other day my mom and I were going over some paperwork her lawyer had prepared for her involving power-of-attorney issues, health directive issues, and her last will and testament. As is usually the case, Mom finds it all very uncomfortable and depressing to talk about, and I have a hard time comprehending why. It was the same type of thing when she and I went to get her burial arrangements done. She just doesn't like talking about, and so sometimes it's difficult to get much input on what her last wishes might be.

My sister-in-law came over while Mom and I were going over her papers. Like me, my sister-in-law has no problem talking about death or dying, and she and I started talking about these issues. Mom finally said, "This is the most depressing conversation," and both my sister-in-law and I were genuinely confused about why people feel that way.

I'm a very pragmatic, practical person. I want Jonah to know exactly what my burial wishes or health issues are. My sister-in-law and I both agreed that we don't want to be kept alive just for the sake of family members who aren't ready to let us go? Why should they be so afraid to let us go? It's only temporary as far as I am concerned, and keeping us around in a vegetative state isn't going to do either of us any good.

Mom wants to be kept alive as long as possible. That's certainly her choice, but I have a hard time understanding it, although I will respect and abide by it if that's what she wishes. If one is suffering, for example, why does one want to remain in that state if one doesn't have to? And isn't that just making it harder on those who have to watch you suffer? On the flip side, I also don't understand those who can't let their loved ones go, even if they subconsciously know it would be for the best.

My sister-in-law and I talked about how cremation is a viable option for us. For me, I like the idea of cremation because it's more economical and environmentally friendly, and the romantic in me likes the idea of scattering my ashes somewhere cool. And if one believes in resurrection (which I do), then putting us back together should be a breeze for a perfect and all-knowing Heavenly Father.

Jonah does not like the idea of cremation. He wants somewhere where he can go to properly mourn me. I told him if he feels that way, he can put my ashes in an urn on our fireplace mantle and mourn me every day if he likes. But the fact is, I'm not actually in that urn. I'm not in that hole in the ground. My mortal remains might be, but the essence of who I am is not, so why should it make a difference where or how my body is buried or disposed of? Just as Jonah says that God is not confined within the walls of any church, my spirit is not confined to my mortal remains, so it shouldn't make a difference. And why mourn me? I'm not gone forever. It's just a brief time in the cosmos away from one another.

I get why we mourn people's passing. We love them, and when they leave us, it does leave a hole in our lives. But it shouldn't be a surprise that it does happen and will happen to everyone, nor should we let it prevent us from living the best lives we can while we still have them in mortality.

When my grandfather died, for example, my grandmother stopped living for a while. Oh, her body was present, but she chose to live in gloom and melancholy for years, and it wasn't until my cousin was born (when new life entered her life) that she was finally able to live life more fully again. I understand she loved my grandfather very much and felt lost without him, but I also think of the many years she wallowed in self-pity and sorrow and wonder if she was really honoring his life by refusing to let go of his death. Was she doing him or herself any favors by refusing to move on.

My father died while I was on my mission. I did not go to the funeral. I was far away in Europe doing work which I felt was important, and which I know my father felt was important. Some people I've encountered are surprised I didn't go to the funeral and say that it must have been hard not to be able to attend. I hope it doesn't sound cold or callous, but, no, it really wasn't. I loved my father very much, and while it would have been nice to attend, the fact is my father was not in that casket. Yes, his body was, but he wasn't. I think I honored his life more by doing something he felt was important and honored the lives of those I was serving by continuing to help the living than I would have been able to do by attending his funeral. He knew I loved him. I knew I loved him. And really, what more could I have done there by actually being physically present that I wasn't already doing by honoring the memory of his spirit?

I am convinced, too, that I felt my father's presence while in church the week after he died. I felt his hand on my shoulder as strongly as I had felt it when he was still alive in mortality. My dad was as much with me as he ever was in mortality.

The fact is that people sometimes have this idea that heaven or the afterlife are somehow far, distant, unattainable places. I believe the spirits of those who have past on are right here with us, and I believe, too, that when we are really in tune, we can feel them and, yes, even sometimes see them.

I think of how great it will be to be reunited with those that have passed on or to meet those we never knew in mortality. What a great thing that will be! And what wonderful things we will learn and feel on the other side. I truly believe that.

I do hope when I die, it will be quick. While I am not afraid to die, I do not find the prospect of a slow, dragged-out death filled with a lot of suffering too appealing. Whatever the Lord has in store for me, I'll have to take; but I would much rather fall asleep one night and just die in my sleep or die instantly in a car crash than lie in a hospital bed drowning in my own fluids for months and months on end while my family watches me slowly waste away.

But I don't suppose the majority of us don't get to choose how we die. As for me, right now I feel like I have so much to live for, so I'm not eager to die any time soon, but when it is time, I don't believe I will fear it, and I hope it's quick.

If you were uncomfortable reading this topic, my apologies, but I see no reason to be, either.

Those Godless Gays

I read a comment to a story about the gay marriages in New York in the online edition of The Deseret News. It said:

New York now rejects the moral definitions of its Judeo-Christian founders. It has defined same-sex marriage -- once the very epitome of being immoral -- as being moral. The godless among us are winning the battle of claiming that there is no such thing as a moral code, because they believe a moral code is the province of what they call, "weak minded religious people."

May the rest of the country wake up and more vigorously defend marriage as between a man and a woman, thus preserving traditional definitions of morality, before immorality is taught as morality to our children in schools.

I'm always bothered when people like this individual refer to those who support gay rights as being "godless." It's the same feeling I feel when those who believe in God accuse atheists as having no morals simply because they don't believe in God. I just don't get it.

Even if you believe homosexuality or gay marriage is wrong and that it goes against what God commands, isn't the term "godless" laying it on a bit thick? I mean if "godless" in this case means anybody who promotes or teaches or lives in a way that is contrary to what God teaches or commands, then aren't all of us "godless?" There's not one person on this earth who doesn't sin or do things that are contrary to what God has commanded them to do. If there were, why would we even need Jesus or his atonement? Plus, even if a person sins by this individual's definition, does that mean they are without God? Does that mean they have abandoned God or that God has abandoned them? Frankly, I can't imagine God abandoning anybody - at least not the God I know - so I hardly believe anyone is without God, even if they think they are.

Does this individual believe, then, that all people who support gay rights or who are gay don't believe in God? Well, that isn't true, either. I know many of us who do. I can assure you, I do not consider myself godless nor does my partner. I know many gay people and supporters of gay people who are very much worshipful of a god, whoever they deem that god to be. Many of us are living our lives trying to be the best people God has created us to be.

"Godless" is such a loaded term, and I find it very ignorant. I feel much the same way about gay-rights supporters calling anyone who disagrees with them "hateful." I do not feel everything is so black and white.

Think me immoral if you like (although I don't feel I am that, either), but please don't call me "godless."



Another comment I read in a Salt Lake Tribune article referred to two friends of mine who were among those who recently legalized their union in New York. The commenter called their union "disgusting" and "wrong." This couple has been in a committed, monogamous, loving relationship for 16 years (longer than some of the heterosexual couples I've known in my life). I know others who have shared their lives for far longer. Please explain to me what is so "wrong" and "disgusting" about that.

I don't know what opponents think is going to happen if gay people start getting married. Heck, it's been happening in Massachusetts for some time now, and the sky has not fallen. How is the union of two loving and committed people causing our world to go morally bankrupt? Please don't accuse me of indoctrinating your kids and recruiting them to be gay because that isn't how it works, folks. If your kid is gay, he or she is already gay. He or she doesn't need my help. Nobody recruited me, and I sure as heck am not getting a free toaster oven if I try to recruit you. I can no more make anyone out there gay than they can make me straight. I tried many a time to make myself straight, and I assure you, I'm just gay. That's just who I am.

And please don't tell me that if the gays start getting married, pretty soon people will be marrying their children or cats or refrigerators. It's about two consenting adults who love and are committed to each other and simply want the same ten thousand rights heterosexual people automatically get when they marry one another. Don't tell me we can have those rights just a freely and easily because we can't. Do you know the legal costs involved in some states? My friend (who has been with his partner for 20 years) paid $22,000 to get some of the same rights married heterosexuals get for free. Where's the equality in that?

I never asked to be gay and spent many years trying not to be. But I am. It's not going away, and I've reached a point in my life where I'm quite happy to be who I am. I feel God loves Jonah and me very much and blesses us each day. No "godlessness" over here, I promise you.

I know people out there think homosexuality is a sin and draws one away from God. I disagree with them, but if they want to think that, I suppose that is their prerogative. All I would say to them is if they really got to know some gay people on a personal level, they might see us in a different light, and even if they still disagreed with us, they might at least realize that it is not their place to judge us, but God's. As for me, I'm quite at peace in my relationship with my Father in Heaven.

My Laugh For The Day

Today before Sunday School officially started, the instructor asked if any of us had any good news to share. I guess he's had some depressing things happen to him this week and wanted those of us having good things happen in our lives to share them to serve as a sort of pick-me-up for him.

No lie, the very first thought that rushed in to my head was how great I think it is that gay people are finally being able to legally wed in New York. If that's not great news, I don't know what is.

I chuckled to myself as I thought how funny the reactions would be if I were to say such a thing in Sunday School. I actually don't think the instructor would have minded, but I'm sure there would have been some shocked faces in the crowd. It actually kind of gave me the giggles.

The next thought that ran through my head (again no lie) was how grateful I am that that stupid "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" law will be history soon.

These were the things I was feeling thankful for today, and in my mind, they are two pieces of very good news. Of course, I remained silent like a good excommunicated member, but the image of my sharing those two pieces of good news with my fellow Sunday Schoolers tickled me so.

The lesson, by the way, was on witnesses and was pretty good. I genuinely like this instructor's lessons, although I didn't feel the congregants were participating as much as usual.

Sacrament Meeting was on gratitude, and the two speakers (my former bishop and his wife) were excellent.

Having It All

I miss Jonah so very much. I've been down the last couple of days. I don't get down that often, but this month has been harder than usual. I wrote recently of feeling down because of feeling stuck in my acting. Rereading that post, I realize how ungrateful I must have seemed writing it.

I am so blessed and lucky to actually do what I enjoy doing for a living. How proud it made me to attend my high school reunion 2 years ago and actually say that I was making a successful living doing what I always said I would do. How fortunate I feel to go to work and act and perform instead of waiting tables or sitting in a cubicle all day. I have little right to complain.

The other day, my future nephew-in-law asked me how many shows I've acted in, and as I went through and tried to remember all the shows I've done, I figured my current show is my 97th (unless I missed some, which is entirely likely). That means I've done nearly (or have actually done) 100 shows, professionally and non-professionally.

I've dreamed of being an actor since my first show in the third grade. My mom continually recounts a story about how I came home from elementary school and announced that I was going to be an actor and never deviated from that goal (although there were very, very brief periods when I considered becoming a lawyer, a psychologist, or a history teacher (but none of those lasted).

I remember returning from my mission and wondering if I could maintain my values and still make a living in the theatre. It's the only time I ever seriously considered abandoning my career goals, and it frightened me immensely to consider giving up the thing I felt most passionate about.

I remember praying about it and getting the very distinct prompting that this was what I should continue doing with my life, and it made me feel good that perhaps God actually approved of my career choice. Happily, it is a decision I have never regretted.

I've had the chance to play some great roles in some great shows, and, yes, I have also taken roles just for the paycheck. The ones I feel passionate or moved by are the most worthwhile, however.

My only regret is that I have not been able to have my career and be with Jonah in our home at the same time. This has been hard because my career has been quite successful during the time I've been with Jonah, and I, unfortunately, have spent more time away from him than with him since we had our commitment ceremony, and this has been due to my career.

I said in the aforementioned post that I was almost hoping not to get cast in The Tempest because I miss my husband so much. I've also been given an opportunity to audition for a play that I think I'd really enjoy doing, but I am foregoing it because I want to spend some time with Jonah, and if I were to get cast, I would have no break at all in which to see him, and it would be unlikely that we would spend more than a couple of days together between now and the end of December, and we've already been apart since April (aside from a couple of days here and there). It just isn't enough.

The cast for The Tempest still hasn't been announced, so there's still a chance I could be cast, and there is a good chance I could be cast in the show immediately after that, which is a musical, so aside from a week or two, I could end up being away from Jonah for a while, which is not at all appealing to me.

I have another opportunity to audition for another show, a contemporary comedy-drama, which is kind of what I am in the mood to do. I'm kind of burned out on musicals, and just want to play a lead in a contemporary straight play, so it's an exciting opportunity. It would also give me more time with Jonah. The downside is it doesn't pay as well as I would get doing The Tempest and the musical, and especially if Jonah and I are possibly buying another property, it would be good to earn more money.

The trouble with earning money and maintaining my career is that it keeps me away from the guy I love; the guy I miss. Ultimately, that isn't healthy, either. We've made it work for a long time, and we have both been supportive of each other's career, which have forced us to be separated; but I think we're both getting tired of it. Jonah certainly doesn't expect me to give up my career, but we both agree that maybe a small break from it is due. Jonah, although tired of his job, makes much better money than I do, so we think, for the time being, that it would be foolish of him to give up his job, although he probably will do in so in a year or so.

I love acting so much. But I love Jonah so much, too. I wish there was a way to have both at the same time, but I do not have as good of a theatre network in the city where we live than I do here in Utah, and furthermore, the kinds of theatre opportunities I look for do not seem to be available to me there.

Relationships are about sacrifice, and I think I may have to take a break from my career to be with Jonah for a bit, and that's both hard and good. On the other hand, while I'm home with Jonah, I hope I can at least find work I enjoy doing. I don't exactly want to work at Walmart or wait tables at the Cheesecake Factory.

I guess we'll see what happens. Why can't one have it all at the same time?

Amazing, Spiderman!

I opened my mailbox today to find this:



Me likey! Me likey a lot!

Not only nice eye candy, but a great actor. I've really admired his work since I saw him in Boy A. And I like the character of Spiderman, so I look forward to seeing this. Hope it's good.

To Risk Or Not To Risk? That Is, Indeed, The Question.

So Jonah wants to buy another house and either rent that one out or move into it and rent our current house. Obviously, the goal is to have an investment that hopefully will prove to be a source of income. Jonah says that since we aren't intending to have children and, therefore, will have no one to take care of us when we get old that it might be beneficial to create something that will provide us with a nest egg.

Home prices where we live are amazingly low, and we could get a really nice piece of property for relatively cheap. If we choose to live in the new property, we would be paying a much lower mortgage for a house that is equivalent or better than our current one and then our renters would be paying for our current mortgage, and perhaps we could get a profit.

If the renters live in the new property, we could charge rent that is higher than the mortgage and, therefore, pay for the property and make a profit as well.

I have friends who have bought properties and rented them out, and they agree that, if done right, such a venture could be profitable and beneficial

This sounds all well and good in theory, but I must admit it makes me nervous and anxious. First of all, I feel I'm out of league as far as real estate is concerned. Secondly, if we go about it the wrong way and can't get anybody to rent the property (or can't get them to rent it for as much as we want or need), then we will be stuck paying for two properties when I feel I am barely able to pay for the one we currently have. I do not feel I am a gambler or a risk taker, and there is always a gamble or a risk involved in such a deal.

I will say this: Jonah has very good instincts. When it comes to his gut, Jonah is right about 99% of the time. He feels this is something we should at least try to do (or, at the very least, research), and because experience has taught me so, I am trying to trust his judgment and get on board.

Jonah's parents had the opportunity early in life to buy property, and they didn't, thinking it would not be worth it. That same property they failed to acquire is extremely valuable, and Jonah wonders if some of their present financial difficulties could have been averted had they bought it when they had the chance. Jonah doesn't want to make a similar mistake with us.

Jonah also has some money saved up to do this and also has a wealthy friend who would likely to be willing to help us out if we need it. I, on the other hand, do not feel that my own finances would be adequate for such a venture.

I've been taught my whole life to stay out of debt. I already have car payments and student loan payments I am still making as well as our mortgage, and if this venture were to fail, I would be in serious debt.

I'm also not eager to be a landlord. I don't want to deal with any of the headaches such as late rent or maintenance concerns.

Yet it could be a good investment, and furthermore, it could actually improve my financial situation.

Jonah has started sending me properties to look at. It reminds me of when we were looking for our present home and how overwhelming and stressful it felt to me (plus how long it took to find just the right place). I've been looking through some of these places, and there are, indeed, some really good deals, but it's giving me a bit of anxiety as well.

Jonah says (often) that we have to guide our lives by faith, not fear. And like I said, while I consider myself a practical, pragmatic guy, Jonah's leaps of faith are usually spot on. Where I can only see the present reality, Jonah sees possibility, and even though he doesn't always know how things will work out, he believes they will, and he is usually right.

If we do this the right way, it could be a really good thing. If we go into it the wrong way, it could be disaster. As I've thought and prayed about this, I found it interesting that a friend's Facebook status leaped out at me today. It said simply: "If you do it, you'll regret it. If you don't do it, you'll regret it. So you might as well just do it."

Jonah knows that I carry a bit of trepidation. But he also knows I'm genuinely trying to have an open mind and heart. I know, ultimately, he is looking out for us. But is this the right thing to do? I still don't know. I just know I'm feeling anxious about it.

So, what about any of you? What are your opinions? Do any of you out there have any experience with real estate deals or renting? What advice do you have? I welcome any thoughts on this.

A Little Slice Of Heaven

So, I know I've written about the fact that I am not a very social person. I don't particularly enjoy parties or big shindigs; I rarely go out to eat with friends unless it's one-on-one or one-on-two; I don't tend to go to group activities; I enjoy my alone time a lot.

Last night, I was engaged in a work-related activity with some of my fellow cast members. When we finished, I was quite ready to go home. Very impromptu, one of my friends said she wanted to go out to eat to celebrate her birthday, which is today. It was very last minute, and I wasn't particularly in the mood. However, I like this friend a lot and felt it might be nice to support her on the eve of her special day.

I called my mom to let her know I would be late (yes, even at 40 I call my mom if I'm going to be late so she won't worry) and headed off to the place we were eating to meet my friends.

The place was a small plate/wine bar. Not my kind of place at all. I freely admit I have little sophistication or couth (plus I don't drink), and when I go out to eat, I am in little mood to savor or nibble; I want a full, big meal at a cheap price. Sometimes I think small plate/wine bar establishments come off as a bit pretentious. I don't fault those who enjoy them; they just aren't my personal bag.

We were seated at an outdoor table, and the sun was setting and the evening was cooling off. There were only six of us in the group - four of my co-workers, the birthday girl's sister, and me - and that was nice. Six is about all I can handle in group settings.

As suspected, the prices were more than I would normally wish to pay (yes, I am cheap - ask Jonah, lol), and I saw that the place did not take separate checks, and I had no cash, so I fretted about whether that would be a problem (I always hate figuring out the bill and who owes who what at the end of a group dinner). But a friend agreed to charge it all on her credit card and have each of us pay her back (I actually wrote her a check at the end of the night (yes, some of us still write checks occasionally. I have not quite entered the 21st century.).

We each decided to order at least one small plate and then just share among ourselves, which I think is kind of the point of these small plate establishments. Some people got two or three; I just got one (like I said, I'm cheap).

My friends, all who drink, ordered a bottle of wine, although I think only four of them actually imbibed. The wait staff was very friendly and joked around with us. We thought, being the loud, obnoxious actor-types that we are, that they would find us annoying or, at the very least, that the other patrons around us would, but everybody around us seemed unbothered by us, and the wait staff seemed to find us charming and funny.

Slowly throughout the evening, the wait staff would bring us our small plate dishes a couple at a time. Normally I rush through my meals (like I said, not much couth), but the dishes were meant to be savored and shared slowly and casually.

The dishes themselves were, indeed, small, but very good. Among the ones I recall were beets and lettuce leaves, mushrooms and brie, scallops and pasta, mussels in a tomato-type sauce, pork tenderloins and corn, an apple walnut salad, curried cauliflower, Cajun green beans, asparagus wrapped in bacon, and a cheese plate (with four different cheeses, apricot compote, almonds, apple wedges, and some crunchy thing I couldn't identify.

I particularly enjoyed the cheese plate (my selection), which had some of the best blue cheese I have ever tasted; the mushrooms and brie; the pork tenderloins; and the curried cauliflower. Everything else was good, too, except I didn't care for the Cajun green beans (well-prepared, but too spicy for my taste).



As we talked and shared and ate and savored, I realized how much I enjoy these friends of mine. There was a very light breeze blowing, there were people all around us laughing and chatting, and I became acutely aware of just how much fun I was having hanging out with friends and just how much I was enjoying myself and my time with them.

We, of course, laughed and told stories and shared mutual experiences, and at one point we each told a story or two about when we first met the birthday girl or our favorite memory of her or what we liked about her. Some were serious, some were funny, one was even acted-out by another cast member. And at the end of the evening she said how her birthday meal with her couldn't have been any more perfect or lovely.

My friends ordered another bottle of wine (a different one this time), and we ordered three dessert plates among ourselves (myself included): a chocolate torte, bruleed bananas with a Nutella mousse, and red wine-soaked Oreos with ice cream. I didn't partake in the Oreos and ice cream, but the torte was phenomenal, and I quite enjoyed the bananas and mousse.

After our meal was complete, we just sat talking and laughing and enjoying one another. Jonah called, and I handed the phone to a mutual friend that Jonah has a very innocent crush on as a joke. They talked for a bit, and then my friend handed the phone to me. I talked with Jonah for a bit and then said I would call him back in about twenty minutes when I got home (which actually turned out to be about an hour later).

We just stayed and talked and laughed and sometimes grew very serious, and even though the establishment was closed by this time, the wait staff seemed in no hurry to be rid of us. And as I shared my times with these friends of mine, I became very, very conscious of how much I value and love each one of them (even the birthday girl's sister, who I barely know), and I thought, "This must be what heaven is like - this feeling of love I feel for these dear friends of mine who have touched my life in various and important ways."

And I looked around at them, none of them active in the LDS Church (although they all grew up in it) but me (who has been excommunicated, so I guess technically I can't be considered an active member either) - three of us gay - some of us drinking - and I thought, "By the LDS Church's standards, none of us would be considered bound for the 'highest kingdom,' and yet these are all such good souls."

And I thought, "These are the people I want to spend eternity with. My husband is who I want to spend eternity with." I have a feeling wherever I end up in the afterlife, it will be a great place, and these people will be with me, and I will be very happy.

Last night was a beautiful, wonderful, lovely night. And to think I almost missed it. I wouldn't normally spend $22 on just myself for a meal (which is what I ended up paying - I told you I was cheap!), but last night I did not care. $22 is just money. The feelings I felt and carried; the experiences I had; the time I spent with these dear friend; the love that filled my spirit; the realization of how dear these friends really are to me; the memory of that glorious evening - those are mine to hold on to forever.

Heaven. Sheer heaven.

Feeling Baffled

So I have this friend. He is straight (or at least claims to be - I'm still not so sure, but that is beside the point). On the night of July 4th, he and his roommate (whose sexuality I am unaware of (but again, it's beside the point)) were walking together in Liberty Park in the Salt Lake area holding hands. They were not holding hands to make a statement (at least, my friend claims it was not for that reason) nor are they romantically involved in any way nor do I think they were doing it as a joke. They were just holding hands.

Anyway, they walked by a woman who scolded them with a "Follow the prophet!" Next a man chided them, saying, "Hey, you dropped your purse!" and teasing them about wearing high heels (which they weren't).

My friend was confused about why these people felt the need to chastise him and his roommate or to belittle and tease them. They were simply enjoying the July 4th festivities and their hand-holding wasn't causing any harm to anyone around them.

My friend said, "First of all, since I'm not gay, these people made assumptions about me that aren't true, and secondly, even if they were true, why did they feel the need to belittle us? If we had been a guy and a girl, no one would have thought twice about it or made any rude remarks."

My friend went on to say that in many cultures it is perfectly normal for two men to hold hands or show affection for one another in ways that might be deemed as odd or inappropriate in other cultures.



As I heard my friend tell this story, I wondered, "Why is it so hard for some people to 'live and let live?'" Look, even if one thinks it's wrong for two guys to be holding hands and enjoying time together, do these people really think that making rude, stereotypical remarks about those guys' sexuality or telling them to "follow [a] prophet" they might not even believe in or have any connection to is helpful or needful?

Whether my friend is gay or straight, was his holding the hand of another man causing any harm or injury to the people around him? Isn't holding a hand an act of affection or love? Is that such a negative, terrible thing?

And what impression did those people leave my friend? The first was self-righteous and probably made my friend (who grew up in the LDS Church, but is no longer active) feel even less connected to that religion. The second was an ignorant bigot and treated my friend and his roommate in a contemptible and mocking way? Do these people think such actions are endearing?

Why are people so offended by two people of the same sex doing nothing more than holding hands? I'm even quite sure that if my friend and his roommate had been two girls, they would not have been treated that way. What is so threatening about two guys holding hands?

I find some people baffling. Things like this truly confuse me. I think it's sad.

Even if one thinks homosexual behavior is wrong (and I would argue that two men holding hands does not necessarily imply that they are gay), what is there about two men holding hands that is so offensive?

I do not understand people sometimes.

Feeling Somewhat Stuck

I think I'm a pretty confident guy overall, and I consider my self-esteem to be pretty good. Lately though, I've been feeling less-than-adequate as far as my acting skills are concerned. This is somewhat ironic because I've had a very good year career-wise, and I quite frequently have people who have seen me act tell me what a good performer they think I am. And yet, sometimes inside I kind of feel like a hack.

This is not really true. I don't think I'm a bad actor by any means. I think I'm a good actor and that I have very good timing. People tell me I'm really good, and companies keep hiring me, so I must be at least above average; but I don't feel I'm a terrific or unbelievable actor, which I what I aspire to be.

Sometimes I will see a brilliant, engaging, moving actor, and think to myself, "Oh, I'd love to be like that." And perhaps I am and just don't know it.

I do think I'm a good actor, a decent singer (though not phenomenal), and dancing...? ...well, I think everybody can agree that I'm an okay mover, but I don't think Broadway or Ballet West will be calling me any time soon based on my dance skills.

I also feel a little stale lately. I felt this way, too, just before I made the decision to go back to graduate school to re-tool and hone my acting skills (which was a great decision). I'm actually in a great show right now with a really talented group of people, and it's been a lot of fun. But on some level it feels like I'm sort of coasting through my part, which I can't stand. I don't think anybody but me feels that way. In fact, I would guess that my fellow cast members, director, and the audience probably feel I am doing an excellent job and working very hard. But I don't personally feel very challenged, and I'm not sure why.

The rehearsal process has actually been an intense one, and physically I've really had to work quite hard (I discovered at the beginning of the rehearsal process that I am more out-of-shape than I had realized), and yet I feel like I'm kind of relying on a familiar bag of tricks and my usual shtick rather than exploring new ways of doing things and challenging myself. Part of it comes from the fact that there isn't a lot of nuance in this show. The particular style, I feel, is very "in-your-face" and blatant, almost like we're spoon-feeding the audience every moment, which I feel is doing a bit of injustice to both us and our audience. But that is what the particular style of this particular show calls for, and I accept that.

And I am (I truly am) having a good time and having fun. Audiences seem to enjoy what we're all doing, and they seem to enjoy my personal performance. The writer of the show recently told me he loves what I am doing with one of the characters I play. A fellow actor said he really thinks I'm great at what I do and admires my performance and choices a lot. It's not like I'm not putting any thought or effort into what I'm doing. But I've always been overcritical of myself (although less so now than when I was younger, if you can believe it), and if my personal performance is not measuring up to what I think it ought to be, I get a little frustrated with myself.

I'm hoping to do a drama next (my current show is a comedy). Something really dark and depressing. lol. Something with some levels and nuance. I feel like I need that.

Maybe I just need a vacation. Jonah and I have been married for nearly three years, and we have been away from each other more than we have been together during that time. I really feel like maybe I even need to take a little acting break and be with him for a while. We miss each other a lot. My career is very important to me (always has been), and I'm not sure what I'd do to support myself if I'm not acting, but I'd like some quality time with Jonah, too.

I recently auditioned for The Tempest by William Shakespeare, and I'd enjoy doing it (and it would certainly be different from what I am currently doing), but I'm almost hoping not to get cast (because I'll have a hard time saying no if I am) just because I'd like to go home for a while.

An old college friend also invited Jonah and me to go to Gay Days at Disneyland, which sounds like a lot of fun. I haven't taken a real vacation in some time, nor have I seen this friend in a while. But if I got cast in The Tempest I wouldn't be able to go.

Anyway, I guess I'm just feeling a bit stale and bored (not with my job, but with my acting) even though I shouldn't be. I think I just need to recharge my batteries somehow.

But please know that I am very grateful for my job and career and for the opportunities it has afforded me and continues to bless me with. I certainly don't want to sound ungrateful. I just feel in a bit of a rut today, and perhaps tomorrow I will feel differently. I'm probably just in a mood.

Anyway, blah, blah, blah. Sorry to invite you to this silly pity-party. It's really not as bad as I've probably made it sound. :-)

Just What I Needed, Just When I Needed It

I had an experience at church this morning that made up for last week's lousy one. After what happened last week, I wasn't feeling as much in the mood to go to church this morning. This voice nagged in my head, "Why do you even keep going when there are people and forces in the church that judge and shun you?" I mostly ignored the voice because the fact is, most people at church treat me very kindly and acceptingly. I'm certainly not going to let the opinions of two people whose opinions I don't respect anyway deter from going to my LDS ward when, most Sundays, I still very much enjoy attending. But I do admit that the negative voice tried to deter me today.

I'm usually just a minute or two late for Sunday School, but today I was early. As I came in the room, the brother who made the negative comment last week smiled at me and welcomed me and shook my hand. I grabbed his enthusiastically and said hi back. He can have all the prejudices against gay people he want, but I'm not going to let that sour my ability to be courteous and kind to him.

Two other people shook my hands, and then the teacher (we'll call him Brother Jacobs) came up to me before class started and said, "Hey [Cody], I told your mom a couple of months ago that I had wanted to talk to you about something, but I never seem to get the chance. About four or five years ago you were bearing your testimony in Sacrament Meeting, and I was sitting in the back of the chapel. I can't remember exactly what you said, but you said something akin to how we are all needed here and how the Lord loves each one of us for who we are in spite of our imperfections, and I remember that it really uplifted me. I was in a negative place that day and was wondering why I was even there at church and was about to walk out when you got up to share your testimony, and it really hit me how valuable I was to the Lord, and I ended up staying, and I continued coming back because I felt the Lord needed me here. Your testimony and the spirit I felt as you bore it helped me change my perspective, and I've always wanted to thank you for it."

As I nodded, he continued: "It's funny, you never know how the smallest thing you do will affect another person, but what may seem small and insignificant to you really helped me a lot, and I really appreciate it."

I thanked him for his words, thinking it ironic that the very "small and insignificant" words he was now saying to me were very profound and needed at just the time and place I needed to hear them. I'm actually going to write him a letter telling him how much his words meant to me today and how I felt like he was helping me in return for something I was not aware I had done for him until just today.

I remember the testimony he was referring to. I, too, do not recall exactly what I said, but I was struggling very much with my homosexuality still. At the time I thought it might even be the last testimony I would be able to publicly give because I did not know what choices I would be making concerning my sexuality. I know that I said something along the lines of how all of us in church seem happy and content on the outside, but that many of us have secrets and hidden heartaches that nobody knows about except the Lord and how we're silently fighting these battles no one else knows about thinking that we're all alone. I assured everyone in that congregation that no matter what we were going through in life and no matter how alone we felt or how misunderstood we felt, God knew our hearts intimately and loved us for exactly who we were and wanted each one of us there; that there was nothing any of us could do that would cause him to turn his love away from us. I truly believed that and still do. I also reaffirmed my knowledge that the church was true and said that no matter what happened in my life, I would always believe that, and that even if I did things that seemed to contradict that, I still knew it in my heart. I treated it like a "farewell speech" of sorts (although it turned out that I was able to bear my testimony in Sacrament Meeting at least one more time before I was actually excommunicated.

I am grateful it touched Brother Jacobs and am glad that the message that I was trying to get through actually got through. I'm glad he felt the Spirit, and I'm grateful it had a profound and lasting effect on him. I enjoy his lessons greatly, and it makes me sad to think he could have once chosen not to be at church.

I just felt good. I felt validated in away. I felt like I am still making a difference even if my participation is limited. It was just what I needed today. I thank Heavenly Father for prompting Brother Jacobs to give me that message after such a long time. I do not believe it was a coincidence.

The March of Time

Caution: this post is a bit long and may even be depressing (although that is not really my intent). You have been warned.

When I came home from rehearsal this evening, my mom was watching an old family video my sister had made several years ago. In it was a segment that showed all of my siblings and I growing up as well as the first three kids in my brother's family growing up. It would start with footage of us as babies and then as kids and then progress into recent footage (at the time) all while instrumental music was played. It was very lovely, but also made me a bit melancholy, which doesn't happen very often.

When I saw the footage of my nephews and niece, for example, I thought about where they are today. One nephew is on a mission in Canada. The niece is on a trip in Thailand teaching English and is probably due to get married to her own return missionary within the next year or so. The third nephew is in high school. And still another niece who didn't even exist when the video was made, is 12 now, I believe, and is turning into quite the young woman.

My sisters have also gained children since this video was made; the first has three stepboys and a girl of her own, and my other sister and her husband have a nearly one year-old daughter.

I have a picture of me holding my oldest niece when she was born, and it seems like yesterday. As I watched footage of my brother's youngest boy, I remembered holding him on my shoulders. Now that would be impossible (in fact, it's more likely that he could hold me on his).

And, of course, there's the footage of my siblings and me as kids. There's my sister in the early 60s with super blonde hair gallivanting around our then sparsely-treed neighborhood (which now has so many trees the view down the street is somewhat obscured). There's my long-deceased father bouncing my now 6'3" brother up and down as a child. There I am running to give my dad a jacket, passing a car from the 70s that now looks completely ancient to me. There's my now married sister riding her tricycle. And I ask myself, where does the time go?

This morning I received an email from a friend. I met her and her husband in Belgium in 1992 when I was on my mission. We'll call them Marlyse and Jacques. At the time I was with my most challenging mission companion (a person, I am sad to say, who it will be too soon if I ever see again). Ironically, it was Marlyse and Jacques who contacted us. We were on are way in for the night, and Marlyse and Jacques, who never frequented this part of town, had felt compelled to take a walk in our area (which they actually had to drive to to do so).

They approached us just as we were about to enter our apartment and asked if we were Mormon missionaries. We said we were. They were primarily interested in our genealogical program. Jacques' father was an American soldier in World War II who had romanced his Belgian mother, and Jacques was the result. After the war ended, Jacques' dad went back to America, and Jacques had been trying, without luck, ever since to find him and any other family he might have.

We asked Jacques and Marlyse if we could come to their house and teach them, and they accepted. They never joined the Church, but they became two of my dearest friends from my mission. I always think of them as my Belgian parents. They were (and still are) such cool people, and they treated us so kindly.

Happily, my difficult companion was transferred the week after they found us, and my next companion and I taught them. Marlyse was an atheist, and Jacques was more agnostic, but both were curious. Unfortunately, the members of the branch we served, for the most part, did not leave Marlyse and Jacques with a good impression. A lot of them were very prideful, and at the time I always found it ironic that the atheist and the agnostic were more Christian than the church-going "Christians" were.

The best Thanksgiving I have ever had in my life was spent at Jacques and Marlyse's house in a country that didn't even celebrate Thanksgiving. It was a potpourri of traditional American fare and Belgian cuisine. They invited my companion and I as well as our district leader and his companion. It was wonderful and very memorable and helped me feel less lonely for my first Thanksgiving away from home.

Jacques and Marlyse took my companion and I to an American military cemetery near Liege, and it was so peaceful there, and obviously very sacred to my new Belgian friends. One of my favorite photos of Jacques and Marlyse was taken there.

Eventually I was transferred to another city in Belgium, but one that was close enough that Jacques and Marlyse surprised me by coming to our ward there and taking my companion and I out to lunch afterwards. It was so wonderful to see them again. They also later took us on a touristy sort of adventure to a nearby village which was very memorable.

When my mission was over, my mom came to get me and we toured Europe and made sure to visit Jacques and Marlyse. I went back two more times with my cousin and then my sister, and both times we visited Jacques and Marlyse, and the time with my cousin we saw a memorial ceremony at that same cemetery.

Later, Jacques found some limited information about his American step-siblings. I was able to hire a private investigative service that helped me track down his step-sister, and I called her and explained that she had a Belgian step-brother looking for her. She was wary at first, although she had known of his existence before I called her. Because she didn't speak French and Jacques didn't speak English, I served as a translator as they wrote each other back and forth. Eventually Marlyse, who knew English well enough to translate, took over those duties. Soon enough, Jacques became connected with the family he had always been looking for and which he had lacked with his Belgian family, and Jacques and Marlyse have visited them several times here in America. I was always grateful that God had helped me help him find them.

I still write Jacques and Marlyse, although our contact has dwindled a bit as we've gotten older. About a year or so ago, Marlyse and Jacques informed me that Marlyse had a very serious and aggressive form of cancer, and they were not very optimistic that Marlyse would survive.

Marlyse has been through a lot of chemo, and it's been a hard road, but she is still alive. She had asked me to help Jacques maintain contact with his American family after she passes because Jacques still is not proficient enough in English to communicate with them on his own. I promised her I would.

I wrote Jacques and Marlyse a month ago and never heard back, which was odd. I feared that maybe Marlyse had passed away and that Jacques was still grieving. But Marlyse wrote me an email this morning that said,

Hello [Cody],

It's been a long time, and I have needed to write, but I am having health problems which make me very tired.

We hope that you [and Jonah] are doing well. [Cody], you see what I have written, and I am already tired.

Right now I am still having oral chemo, plus I've have had the maximum of radiation.

Love you, take care

Jacques and Marlyse

It is hard to know that my once vibrant and very strong-willed friend is so weak and could possibly die. It is hard to know how Jacques will carry on without Marlyse, who has always been the rock in their relationship. I have not seen either of them in person for ten years now, and in my mind they are still the ages they were when I last saw them even though I know they are not. I'm sure Marlyse especially looks very different than she did ten years ago.

I'm at an age now where I'm starting to lose more people in my life. I've written about two of them here and here. Tonight my mom and I were talking about her own mother, who died here in 2002 while on vacation visiting my mom. Mom was with her when she died. I remember thinking how hard it was to watch this woman who was constantly on-the-go spend the last month of her life bed-ridden and struggling for breath and wondering if one day I will do the same for my own mother.

I look at my own mother, who is physically very healthy, but whose memory and awareness sometimes is impaired. Or I remember my once vital father, who was crippled by a series of strokes and basically slowly suffocated because of the amount of fluid in his lungs due to pneumonia.

Death is part of life, and, actually, most of the time I'm pretty good about how I handle it. We're all going to die. You. Me. Everyone. It's just part of the plan and only a temporary part of it at that. I'm not afraid to die nor am I terribly shattered when people close to me die (although I, of course, miss them very much). If anything, it just serves as a reminder for how grateful I have been for the value they have contributed to my earthly life and makes me excited for when I will see them again. But I do find as I get older, the march of time becomes more poignant to me in a way. When you're young and a teenager you think you're immortal and impervious to harm (at least I did). Now that I'm middle-aged, my mortality seems more real to me, and I feel more eager to suck as much as I can from the precious relationships I have in mortality while I still have them. I especially think about how often I am away from Jonah because of my career and how eager I am to try and find a way to spend more time together while we're still both relatively young and healthy. I've also thought more about what I want my legacy to be and who I might want to pass it on to.

The older I get, too, the faster the march of time seems to be. As a kid and a teenager, time seemed endless. As an adult, I can't believe how quickly time seems to pass by. Kids grow up so quickly and many of the people one loves start dying off. I guess it's a good reminder to value what you have while you still have it.

Memories of Rent

I went and saw some friends in a production of Rent. It was a decent production. Some performances were really quite impressive. I wasn't as wowed by it as I had hoped. In some areas I felt they held back when they needed to let go more. But it was enjoyable nonetheless.

I was actually reminded of the last time I saw Rent (which was also my first time seeing it). It was early in my relationship with Jonah a little more than five years ago. It's hard to believe it's only been that long. It seems like a lifetime and a different person ago.

I remember that night was hard. I was still very much struggling with my feelings for Jonah, and he sensed that I was going to call our relationship off because I couldn't reconcile my testimony of the LDS Church with my feelings for him. He broke down in tears and was quite a mess, and I felt terrible.

I remember being in love with him so much, but just not sure I could pursue it. I put Jonah through a lot of grief and turmoil during our first year and a half together. It's a wonder sometimes that he stuck by me and put up with my wishy-washiness. It's a true testament to his character.

I wrote some of my thoughts about that night in a post long ago, some of which I've included here:

Jonah and I went to see [Rent] tonight. I was feeling crummy because I felt like I was going to have to tell Jonah that I didn't think I could be with him after all, and Jonah seemed down because he sensed it, too (I told you, Jonah is like that; it's like he is so in tune he already knows things. It's a little creepy sometimes (in a good way)).

Anyway, Jonah and I had quite a talk tonight. Again, no pressure from Jonah. He did make it clear he wants to be with me, but said he would understand and respect my choice if I choose otherwise. I said that I just didn't think I could give up what I know to be true. We had a really nice talk. He is such a loving and supportive person, and, most of all, a wonderful friend. Anyway, Jonah had been inspired that the two of us should pray together, and that what we should pray for most of all is that we have peace. And when Jonah is inspired to do something, I feel it's best to follow through. He prayed first, and I prayed second. The Spirit was quite strong, I felt.

So now I'm home. I just said a private prayer. Basically I said, "Heavenly Father, just tell me what to do. Whatever you want, I'll do it. You want me to leave Jonah, I'll do it. You want me to be with him, I'll do it. Just please tell me so I can do it, because I am so confused right now, and Jonah and I are feeling too much turmoil in our hearts because of this situation."

Still waiting on a solid answer. Whatever it is, I just hope I feel at peace with it.

I am forever grateful that those days of confusion are in the past and even more grateful that I chose to be with Jonah. It is one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. The happiness I feel in my relationship is so much better than the misery, loneliness, and confusion I felt in life prior to choosing to be with him. I am forever grateful, and I'm glad that seeing Rent this evening reminds me of where I once was and how happy I am to be where I am now.

Waxing Cold

I sometimes find it ironic that I can't comment in Sunday School class because of my excommunication, and yet I have nothing inflammatory or divisive or controversial to say; yet any ignoramus who has been baptized and maintains full fellowship in the church can blather on with all sorts of ignorant or hurtful comments, and that is perfectly acceptable.

Most Sundays, it doesn't bother me. Most Sundays the stupid comments are not even worth getting upset about. But every once in a while I wish I could just stand up and say, "What you're saying is hurtful and not in the spirit of Christ. You should stop talking now." Today was one of those days.

The lesson was on the signs of the Savior's second coming with Joseph Smith-Matthew as the basis of study. In verse 10 it says, "And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold;" The teacher asked, "What are some examples of men's love waxing cold?"

A particular brother, of whom I have previously written about here and here raised his hand and actually started his comment with, "I'm going to say something I know I shouldn't say, but..." and proceeded to blame gay people for causing people's love to wax cold.

GAY PEOPLE?! We're the reason love in the world is waxing cold?! Really?! Are you kidding me? Actually meet some gay people, Brother Hypocrite! Get to know them. I think you'll find a lot of love and Christ-like attributes among many of them if you do. Although I admit, I'm not showing much of that at this moment. And, Brother, if you know you shouldn't be saying it, why are you?!

To his credit, the teacher responded with "I'm not going to touch that one," and quickly moved on. Another brother - a friend of mine who was present at my disciplinary council - raised his hand and said, "You know what I really think causes men's love to wax cold? When they put judgment before love. Jesus spent his life ministering to the sinners and the people that were supposedly thought to be the worst of society, while chastising the Pharisees, who thought themselves the best. Every person on this earth is a child of God, regardless of their actions or choices. We may or may not agree with what they do, but not one of us is living a sinless or perfect life, so we have no right to judge anyone; only our Father in Heaven does. I have never been in the shoes of another person, so who am I to label him or berate him. I just need to love him. That's what our Father has asked us to do - love each other. We should stop judging so much and just love."

That made me feel better, and I had a tear streaming down my cheek as I silently listened to his words. Then another woman who makes a lot of self-righteous comments said she was so tired of political-correctness and tip-toeing around things for fear of offending someone and that, yes, we should judge people if they are sinning and doing wrong. She said political-correctness was as much of an oxymoron as Arab unity. As I sat quietly stunned by her words, the message I felt coming across (whether she intended it or not) was "I have the right to my prejudices, and I'm going to continue to speak my mind about them." By the way, this is the same sister my mom visit taught and asked to be released from visiting teaching because she could no longer stand to listen to the homophobic and prideful comments she continued to make.

I go to church partially to feel uplifted. I didn't find Sunday School very uplifting. In fact, some of it left me feeling angry, sad, and cold. It always saddens me when religion (and I'm not just speaking Mormonism here because all religions do it) is used as an excuse for people to judge and pridefully assert that they are more righteous than others when, really, we all in the same boat.

It reminds me very much of the verses in Alma 31 about the apostate Zoramites who built Rameumptom in order to boast pridefully about how much better and chosen they were than their brothers, saying such things as "We thank thee, O God, for we are a chosen people unto thee, while others shall perish." And in Alma 32 it talks about how the poor were cast out of the synagogues because they were "esteemed as filthiness." Alma asks those poor, "And now, how much more cursed is he that knoweth the will of God and doeth it not, than he that only believeth, or only hath cause to believe, and falleth into transgression?"

If the Book of Mormon is written for its members, I think there are some valuable lessons we could all learn in there (myself included).

Anyway, I'm over it now. But it did upset me. I just wish people would think a little more before speaking and would keep in mind how Christ treated others.

But, hey, I'm not perfect, either. I've got plenty of faults of my own. Who am I to judge?

Transitions and Adjustments

So yesterday evening I went to a reunion. It was mostly a bunch of theatre friends from my college days. Most of them I hadn't seen in 18-20 years, so it was fun to get reacquainted and see some of them again. My only regret was that more of these dear friends were unable to attend.

Anyway, one friend who I haven't seen in person in probably 15 or 16 years had a sex change since I last saw her. She grew up as a man, and that's how I knew her in college and most of the years after. I knew she would be attending the reunion, and I wanted to make sure that I handled her transition as nonchalantly and normally as possible. I wanted her to feel that it was no big deal to me and to feel that I was treating her no differently than I did when she was still a man.

But I must admit, I was a bit nervous. When you've known somebody as "Bill" for most of your relationship, and they're now "Betty," it is hard to adjust. It's hard not to want to call them by their former name or refer to them as their former gender. That's obviously my problem, not hers, but I must admit it was challenging not to call her by the name I've known her as for most of our relationship. (I didn't, of course, and true to my intentions, I think I succeeded in making her feel that, as far as I was concerned, the sex-change was a complete non-issue for me.)

When we were in college together, "Bill" (not his/her real name) was a bit odd. We were friendly, but I certainly wouldn't say we were best friends or anything. Actually, at the time Bill scared me a little bit. He seemed preoccupied with death, violence, and liked to do outrageous things to provoke people. I remember him and another kid being absolutely convinced they were vampires and living their lives as closely to that ideal as possible. Bill enjoyed talking about morbid things and loved doing this trick where he would take a needle and flick it upside down and right side up over and over again with his tongue. He liked inflicting pain on himself to gross other people out and liked telling kind of gross stories. I was always convinced that if any serial murders ever occurred in the small college town where we lived, he would be at the top of my suspect list.

I later transferred to another college a year behind him, and he had mellowed somewhat since our first years together (I always suspect he was so outrageous because of self-esteem issues), and I liked him better then. He was an odd guy, though.

While I never once suspected that he yearned to be a woman, I also can't say I was surprised when he became one. I guess I was surprised he actually wanted to be a woman, but wasn't necessarily surprised that he did something so drastically life-changing as becoming a woman. It seemed like the kind of outrageous sort of thing he would do (and I don't mean that having a sex change is outrageous; I mean that Bill having one seemed like just the kind of attention-getting thing he would do when I knew him as Bill).

I certainly don't mean to imply that Bill got a sex change just to be outrageous. I'm sure Bill really wanted to be a woman. I just didn't know that until she actually became one.

Betty (also not her real name), by all accounts from mutual friends, seems much happier now, and from what I saw, I would agree. As one friend said (his words, not mine), "[Bill] could be kind of a douche-bag, but [Betty] is quite lovely." I actually have to say, my friend is kind of right. Bill could be a bit hard to deal with at times. Betty seems much more relaxed and happy with who she is.

Still, I won't lie. It does take some getting used to. When I gave Betty a hug, she, naturally, had breasts, and I thought to myself, "This is different. Last time I hugged her (as Bill) those were not there." Bill also had a very deep, somewhat gruff voice. Betty's is lighter and airier.

I will say, Betty still looks a bit mannish to me (but maybe that's because I've mostly known her as a man and it's harder for me to see the woman). Bill was quite a masculine-looking guy. In fact, as an actor he played the role of a very gruff cowboy-type villain in a fairly well-known movie. That was his type. Certainly she is more feminine now, but she still looks quite masculine in many ways to me.

In any case, I truly am glad that Betty is happy with who she is (and she does seem happier than when I last saw her). It was really nice to see her and my other friends. We had a really great time. I had so much fun and was really glad I went.