She whispered “I’m bi,” and then she ran.
It was just me. I sat in the family car while my husband walked around to get our other child out of earshot. Our oldest quickly got the words out of her mouth, ran inside, and locked herself in her room. Before she came out, she asked my husband to unlock the door. I wasn’t surprised, but the next words out of her mouth broke me.
I prayed the whole way to her room. “Jesus guide me to show her love and support. Be my voice so I don’t say the wrong things. In this moment Jesus, guide me to be love. This child is on loan to me by you. I want to treat your child right.”
I knocked and pressed my face into the door frame. “Hey. Hey. What if I told you I am so honored you trusted me with this?”
The door unlocked, opened slowly, making sure her dad wasn’t around. Purely presumption, but looking to see if I told her secret. I sat on her floor. “When did you know?”
As she talked of thinking some girls at her school were hot, she reached into her backpack. She pulled out a composition notebook and gave me permission to read it. January 10, 2019 was the first entry. It was full of questions, mainly concerned with the reactions of friends, her boyfriend, and her parents. She looked at me, “I was most concerned with telling you.”
My heart sunk, “Why?”
“Because you’re a Christian, and it means you’ll probably disown me.”
“Oh, sweetie. As a Christian, I’m called to love you. I don’t know whah Jesus you think I chat with, but he doesn’t call me to disown my children. He calls me to care for them. He calls me to put kindling in their heart.”
Reconciling Faith and My Child
Motherhood is tough. I sit in a church pew, go to Bible studies, and sit in fellowship with other moms in faith because motherhood is tough. I am the only Christian adult in my home, and I aim to be an example of the love of Jesus, not the hate that many have used his fragments of his teachings to support.
I have so many things in my winding walk of faith that I’ve struggled to reconcile. Homosexuality, bisexuality, etc is one of those things. I don’t believe a choice is made, but I also don’t think God made a mistake. It leaves me sitting in a pew, praying for understanding. I can deal with this constant conversation with God. It’s a weekly discussion, but this week, I didn’t go to him with questions to help me reconcile my Christian faith with anything. I went to him with something else.
I asked Him if I was projecting hate? Why was my child under the assumption I would stop loving? Was I a good mom? Was I mistreating His child? Motherhood is tough and I prayed for patience with myself.
She came home the next day lighter. We went through her planner. We went through my week. We talked about how she told some friends at lunch. She told her boyfriend. I listened. As she went on, I had so many questions about so many inconsistencies in her thoughts on her own sexuality.
But in the end, I listened and thought back to my inconsistencies in my own pre-teen love affairs. It made me giggle. Motherhood is tough, so is junior high.
Maybe she is bisexual. Maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s homosexual. Maybe she’s not, but two things won’t change:
1. My Christian faith.
2. My unbreakable, unconditional love for my daughter.