I did go to the 'cliff to see Ida the other day. I was right for being concerned about her competency to sign for POA, that her mind and health may not last much longer. When I entered her room, I simply stood there and stared, too shocked to move at first. She had a huge hematoma on the right side of her head where she had fallen a few days ago. She wouldn't open her eyes to look at me, and she could barely talk to me although she knew I was there and called me by name. I didn't know what to do except to stay with her and hold her hand. I brought her Christmas gifts back home with me. Hopefully she'll be able to open them soon, but I'm not so sure. I don't really know what to do now except pray.
While I was there, I got to spend some time talking with one of my former co-workers, David. We didn't spend too much time together when I worked there, but we were always able to converse easily and had mutual respect for each other's work (he's a restorative aide). David's gay, and as I sat in the dining room with him while he was feeding a resident, his very sweet boyfriend (I'm assuming) came in and I got to meet him and talk with him for awhile, too. As I was leaving, I told them our church Christmas musical was that evening and Don was in it, so I had to get going. David said something like, "oh wow! You know, that church down the street had a live nativity set up in their parking lot the other night and I didn't have time to stop, but I wanted to go in. I just drove by really slow trying to see everything."
That one little comment really got me thinking about David and my other gay friends. I have had several gay friends and acquaintances over the years, and even though none of them were extremely close friendships, I hung out with some of these guys one-on-one and even a double-date (which got interesting). I definitely have my opinions about homosexuality, and I'm not here to debate whether I think it's their choice or not, if it's right or wrong, etc. It really doesn't matter what I think about the etymology of it, anyway. God didn't ask me, and I doubt He ever will!
I have always been concerned about the spiritual lives of my gay friends like I would be of any other of my friends, but I have honestly never known how to approach them about it. My former hairdresser, Mike, has talked to me about his past and how churches don't have a place for him, and he really doesn't think about God that much because the life he leads would not be approved by conventional churches. From that conversation and other observations, my perception was that most gays really aren't interested in God since they feel they will instantly be crucified by the church because of their "lifestyle". So basically, with those friends, I tucked away the concern I had for their hearts for the sake of keeping their friendship. I never hid who I was from them, but I never came right out and talked to them about God, either.
David really surprised me with his enthusiasm for the church nativity scene. I couldn't help wondering how many times he's driven by a church, curious about what's going on inside. I wonder how many times he's opened a Bible, or how he tries to fill the God-shaped hole in his heart. I never truly realized until that day that even my most self-assured gay friends have a desire for God, too, whether or not they realize it themselves. We've all been hard-wired to need God, being created in His image.
I think about those friends who might have needed me to show gentle concern for the condition of their spirit, and I feel an ache in my own heart. Kind of like the scene at the end of Schindler's list where the guy looks out at all of the Jews he saved, then looks down at his watch and realized that if he'd sold it he could've saved more people from dying. I sincerely wish I hadn't been so passive.
