The List

I have a list of wants and needs that swirl around in my head and I’m determined to either address them in earnest or cross them off and let them go. I’m convinced that allowing the items to occupy space and energy in my mind without doing anything about them is negatively affecting my mental health by causing anxiety and even depression.

My plan is to post the beginnings of the list here and come back to it, adding to it if I need to. I can already tell that I will need to. It will take honest reflection and untapped courage to admit these desires to myself and to confess them to persons who might read what I reveal. From the list, I will break out entries and record my progress in unique posts, giving myself a means of accountability and a way to measure success or failure.

One more thing before the list: I remember the original intent of this blog—the plea, the demand, the awareness of the presence of grace. For ’tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead this list.

  • Achieve financial security
  • Walk Gracie every morning
  • Practice yoga daily
  • Read daily
  • Write daily
  • Get rid of junk and clutter in my home
  • Get rid of junk and clutter as it applies to the way I use my time
  • Plan a vacation in another state or country
  • Intentionally maintain and grow relationships
  • Garden

John Kinnear: Dear Hypothetically Gay Son


Tears begin rolling down my face, followed by bed-shaking sobs, as I lay in bed reading this Huffington Post article. Please take a few minutes to read it now.

I had a relatively happy childhood/young adulthood. So why the tears?

I cried for every gay man and gay woman of my generation who would never have dreamed never of sitting at the dining table and telling his parents he was gay.
I cried for woman and gay of generations who have have sat at that table but who were abandoned, rejected, or in even some small way made to feel less-than.
I cried out of gratitude for a mother, a sister, a life-partner, children, and friends who not only accept me, but who love me for who I am.
I cried because once more I remembered that it is my job to love my own children just like what I read in the article, and not just my children, but all God’s children, even (and especially!) the ones who may reject me and find me unlovable.

I believe that, no matter who you are or what you believe (gay, lesbian, bi, questioning, transgendered, intersex, straight, conservative liberal, democrate, republican, Catholic, Baptist, Methodist, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Atheist, Agnositc FILL IN THE F****** BLANK) that’s your job, too.

Because we are, all of us, human.