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Everyone in my family has their own story of personal suffering. How
they may have been beat out of a good job by someone less skilled, or
wronged by that snip of a policeman who ticketed them for speeding.
When I was a child, I listened to more than a few adults recant
countless tales of pain and suffering due to the war effort, poverty,
or perhaps the lack of a parent. Some of these stories made me think
how lucky I was to be living at that time. After all, I knew grown-ups
who had to walk 5 miles uphill in the snow to get to school each day!
As I matured and experienced an expected amount of sibling rivalry, I
found my brothers and me trading stories of suffering and wrong doings
at the hands of others. Of course the goal was to out-do each other
with the purported solution to these grave situations. The focus became
how great the infraction was, and what drastic and clever measures were
taken to vindicate oneself of the embarrassing event. Over time I
noticed elements of this dangerous mindset weaving it's way into every
conversation with friends, family, co-workers and sometimes, complete
strangers. The major component to every story was that at any given
time some nameless, faceless person somewhere in the world had a
personal grudge against me and was determined to settle the score by
doing something to make me suffer. In essence, I perceived myself a
victim.
In my late teens things began to further warp and distort in my
thinking patterns. I began to see others as adversaries, foes, and
enemies. Even my friends were held at arm's length, and were viewed as
fierce competitors in a game of 'he who has the most wins'. Into my
20's when a person I was familiar with got a wonderful new job, pay
raise, new home, new car, anything that I did not have, I resented it
deeply. I usually made light of their good fortune by explaining their
gain as a fluke of luck. Perhaps they had done something immoral and
demeaning to get such a fine reward. Maybe someone in their family died
and left them the money to spend frivolously. Whatever the case, such a
person (by my account) had certainly not worked for their gain. It had
come by outside means, and not of their own merit.
I was becoming bitter and hardened because I could not seem to get a
break. Never mind that I was doing absolutely nothing to improve my own
situation in life. I had major entitlement issues. I felt as though I
should receive (without right or purpose) the same things as others,
sans the effort it took to get them. Some people might recognize this
and recall being scolded by a parent who asked; "Do you think the world
owes you a living"? I did indeed think the world owed me something for
just being here. I thought that the suffering inflicted upon me by
others should be payable in full by some mysterious 'Fairness' lottery.
I should be wealthy!! I should have nice things and I shouldn't have to
work like a dog to get them!! I felt justified in my hatred of my own
condition, of man and life itself.
The whole ugly cycle perpetuated itself for years. My crummy behaviors,
the resentment that I could not move forward (without major effort on
my part), which produced the despair and resentment I felt towards
others, which inevitably produced the inability to prosper . I never
stopped to realize that it was me! My suffering was due solely to me
accepting those things that the enemy loved to whisper in my ear.
"You're no good", "You'll never be anything", "You're a common bum",
"You're sick and perverted. You like to dress as a woman and you'll
never be fit for society". At this point I didn't understand what God
offered, or required of me. I also didn't understand the concept of
free will in God's plan for us. Consequently I never asked him for
anything. To me, God was either the stern and punishing parent, or the
random granter of wishes, not unlike a Genie. I was sure that He was up
in heaven gleefully pulling strings and orchestrating my sad little
life here on earth. Punishing me at every turn for being the whack-o
that I was. I felt my life as such, was what it was, and I could do
nothing to change it. I was predestined to be sad, lonely and bitter. I
continued on my path of self medication and self destruction.
I have no recollection of when I began listening to God... when I had a
revelation. It could be that God's plan for me was so subtle and long
term that I didn't notice it. Something in my life changed when I met
my now ex-wife. For the first time (and probably all the wrong reasons)
I wanted a long-term relationship with a woman. This forced me to face
several issues. I needed steady work to support the both of us. I
needed to have a modicum of respectability and success to hold her
interest. And her love, no matter how conditional, required that I stop
destroying myself with drugs, tobacco and alcohol. It was the most
difficult thing I ever had to do in my life, but over a few years
time... I actually was able to slow down and finally halt my addictive
behavior with the substances I was abusing.
The first few years of marriage were tough ones and during that time I
admitted to my wife that I was a cross dresser, or so I thought. Her
reaction was not what I expected, at the time she must've loved me, or
felt connected enough to not let that issue destroy our marriage. Life
went on. Addictive behaviors are like a half-filled balloon however,
you squeeze one end and all the air rushes to the other end. So when I
quit substance abuse, the behaviors eventually manifested in other
areas. My wife and I had our own separate issues that were damaging our
relationship. However, for a time I was able to make it through several
menial jobs to forge ahead ever so slightly. At some point my brother
in law thought I should explore my graphic skills and knowledge by
learning how to utilize a computer. I enrolled in a government program
for displaced workers after I had injured myself on a construction job.
Things began to look up. I was able to take some computer courses and
progress came once again.
I secured a good job doing computer graphics for a large aerospace
corporation. Things seemed to smooth out for a few years. Then the
balloon theory began to take effect. Pressures at work, and pressure in
my personal life began to mount. My wife and I had daily disagreements
that usually erupted into a full blown screaming matches. Eventually,
my whole world exploded when I found my urge to cross dress went deeper
than even I had imagined. During that entire time I gave myself credit
for pulling myself up by my bootstraps. I now give God all the glory. I
realized that I had very little to do with my own recovery.
I knew from the time I was five or six years old, I was not the same as
other little boys. I had managed to bury the fact that I always felt
uncomfortable in my role as a male. I was extremely successful in
hiding it from everyone. The tension continued to mount in my marriage
and to avoid my wife using my cross dressing as a weapon against me, I
decided to confront the issue and resolve it through the counseling
process. I found out what I had suspected all my life... I was gender
dysphoric. I was a transsexual! The Lord had dealt me yet another blow,
I thought!! About six months into my sessions with a gender specialist,
I knew what path I would take. My counselor explained to me the
ramifications of transitioning from male to female, yet I accepted my
fate as it were. During this time, I was initially feeling as though I
had no business calling my self
a Christian. My suffering was well deserved, I was a freak... a
perverted, twisted joke of a human being.
As time passed, my wife and I called an end to our personal torment by
making the decision to separate. I began to seek out the Lord. I didn't
even know why... I just thought there would be an answer for me. I
began listening to Christian tapes and to read C. S. Lewis every chance
I got. I became hungry for the word. During this time of spiritual
renewal, I mounted the task of telling my family about me. Initially
they were very accepting, but I think that when the full impact of my
situation settled in their minds, they were horrified. I suffered many
more personal rejections from that time forward. The difference was
that now, as each day passed, I was gaining a fuller and more mature
understanding of God's word and his purpose for my life.
Even the harshest rejections seemed less destructive than in my past
when I surely would have crumbled under the pressure, and ran off to
appease my misery with drugs and booze. Now, I sought God's help, I
leaned on him... I lay my problems at the foot of the cross, and I
continued on. Someone once analogized the troubles and hard times in
our lives to tempering steel. With each cycle of intense heat, pounding
and forming, and then a sudden plunge into cold water, the steel
becomes stronger. Not only does the steel become stronger, it becomes
more flexible!! It looses some of its brittleness. What a wonderful
process!... as an affect of extreme and intense stress a brittle and
weak thing become stronger and more flexible!
That is how I choose to look at my life, as a series of temperings.
Each time I was beat up by my circumstances, it wasn't God doing it to
me. He may have 'allowed' some of it to happen to get me where he
needed me to be. Ultimately, what I have experienced in my life has
made me dependent on the Father. I know that without him, I would have
never survived. I would never have lived to tell another human being
the reason I am not afraid or ashamed of my transsexualism. I would not
have lived to ask a young transsexual who was starting to look into
Wicca as a form of worship, to look into a new fellowship instead of a
new religion. I would have been incapable of telling straight, gay,
lesbian, and transgendered people alike about my reason for hope in
this life.
I didn't suddenly become happy. Where do some of us get the impression
that once we become Christians that life becomes smoother and less
troublesome? I don't recall God telling us, 'Believe on me and thou
shalt have a good time'. He said he would never forsake us. That does
not translate as, 'You shall suffer no harm, nor pain, nor trials and
tribulations'. I haven't a doubt in my mind that some people are the
cause of most of their own suffering, I certainly was the cause of
mine. Of course there are cases where outside influences that cannot be
surmounted can cause trials to come your way, but simply asking God to
remove it from your life usually produces little result. The life of
paradise and plenty vaporized in the garden. We are not entitled to a
life of pleasure, free from all the things that whittle away at our
peace. Ultimately that's what keeps us looking to God, and to remind
him of his promise, to receive it. To receive the precious gift he gave
us in his son. Yes, in my case much of the suffering I did was by my
own hand, but right now, I wouldn't have any of it taken away or void
from my life. God uses it for his purpose I am sure.
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Also In This Issue:
Sexual Orientation in the Word of God
Our House
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