Of Skeletons and Closets

The following article was recently published in the Brisbane Times. It is an article well worth reading for any man who is married and not heterosexual.

I disagree with the article only in that I think its estimate of roughly two million lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender in the United States who are married is extremely low. I would think the number of married gay, bisexual and transgender married people could easily be close to the number of gay, bisexual and transgender people who are not married.

At the end of the article are links to some web sights which may be helpful.

Jack Scott

Of skeletons and closets

by Paul MartinJune 26, 201

Coming out as a gay man - when you're already married to a woman - would be an emotional minefield. Photo: Viki Lascaris

Coming out – it’s an emotional minefield. Accepted by some, rejected by others, confused about who to trust and where to turn.

How much harder if you were a gay man who had to ‘'come out'’ to your wife and children?

It is estimated roughly two million lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people in the United States have married someone of the opposite sex.

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One-third of these couples break up immediately after disclosure, one third stay together for a year and then separate and another third attempt to make it work (although three years later, only half of this group were still together).

Psychologist Paul Martin from Brisbane's Centre for Human Potential has spent 25 years working with men and women of mixed-orientation marriages.

Mr Martin said the impact of suppressing or denying homosexuality was wide-reaching, resulting in both physical and mental health issues.

“This story needs to be told. It’s something that’s happening underneath our noses all the time, more than anyone would imagine,” he said.

As the acceptance of homosexuality increases, it is expected the number of married men coming out will continue to rise.

“These men have a heightened level of internalised homophobia and are responding to a discomfort with who they are. They develop many defences,” Mr Martin said.

“They will quite often repress and separate out their same-sex attraction. This is a very emotionally stressful situation. It places a huge pressure on their psyche.

“Everything they say and do and every person they interact with is an act of deception because they have a conflict between the real self and the projected self.

“They become masters of deception. They can quite often be loveable and popular, but the problem for that person is that people are interacting with an ‘avatar’ and not the ‘real’ person. It is the loneliest place in the world.”

Mr Martin said the leading motivation for a man to deny his homosexuality was the fear of rejection.

“Rejection sensitivity is common. From early childhood we all have a fear of parental rejection. In this situation it extends to peers, work colleagues, friends and family.”

David*, a 70-year-old Brisbane man, has been married for 41 years and has two children. He is the full-time carer for his wife who suffers from multiple sclerosis. David is also homosexual.

David was a Baptist minister when he came out and believed his sexual desires were a sin. He agreed to undergo electroshock treatment, or aversion therapy, in a bid to cure his homosexual urges.

“I had electrodes attached to my penis and was shown images of naked men and images of naked women. Every time my body temperature rose, which of course was when I saw the pictures of men, I was given an electric shock.

“It was the most painful experience. I asked the doctor if anyone had been cured using aversion therapy. He said ‘not one person’.

“I adopted the view of the church as my view of myself. The self-loathing and self-hatred caused great stress on my physical health. Internalising it has had a huge impact on my life.”

David said he remains steadfastly committed to the vows he took when he married his wife. He said he has not been unfaithful despite his revelation and has remained celibate.

“Marriage is not just about sex. I am not a practicing homosexual, although I would give anything to be deeply in love with a man. I have lived a lie for 41 years. It is not easy. It has been an enormous effort trying to keep my two worlds apart.”

Michelle* was married for 15 years and had no idea her husband had spent many of those years having sex with men - effectively leading a double life.

She shared her story in the hope it might resonate with other couples trapped in a mixed-orientation marriage, or dealing with the aftermath following disclosure.

She felt societal homophobia coupled with her (now ex-) husband’s internalised homophobia was a major contributing factor in his inability to be true to himself and to his wife and family.

“When my husband told me he had been having anonymous sex with men he’d met online and hiding it for years, there were no words, just disbelief. He did not fit the stereotype of a gay man. We had children. He was loud and aggressive.

“I was confused. Was he bisexual? I asked him if he was gay. He said yes and that he was extremely relieved he could finally be open about his sexuality. A lot of things started to make sense.

“His violent mood swings stemmed from his confused sexuality. He felt trapped and scared keeping such a huge secret. He had been fighting suicidal thoughts. He was taking anti-depressants. I felt more sorry for him than I did for myself.

“To this day he is still in denial. Years later he still fears what his friends and family will think. Being married was the perfect disguise. His mood swings continue. Homophobia is deeply entrenched.”

In her book Husbands Who Love Men, Arleen Alwood says some married men who have sex with other men are surprised to discover they are homosexual.

“In one study, 12 of the 60 married bisexual men interviewed were past 40 when they had their first homosexual relationship. These men reported that the first experience came entirely unexpectedly.

“Those wives who do finally discover that their husbands are gay rarely, if ever, understand why they prefer other men,” according to Alwood.

As this anonymous blogger put it: “When another woman manages to steal your husband, at least you believe you can compete. When your husband wants another man, it denies your entire being.”

Mr Martin said disclosure for the wives often meant any insecurities they had about themselves were heightened.

“Wives go through a grieving process, a shock process. Their insecurities of ‘Am I too fat, too young, too old’ are activated. It also generates a self-doubt in the wife.

“The first step in this process is for the man to take responsibility for his behaviours. There will be no empathy unless he can acknowledge what he’s done.

“There will always be pain and hurt and shock but there is a way to best manage that. It can never be done in a way that is good, but with sensitivity, integrity and love it mitigates against huge amounts of pain.”

For support visit Straight Spouse Network.

For further information on mixed-orientation marriages visit Ambassadors and Bridge Builders International.

The Gay Christian Network offers support for gay Christian couples and their families.

You can follow Paul Martin on Twitter @PaulmartinPsych

*Not their real names.

A Few Words About Homosexuality From One With Credentials

I spent the third, fourth and fifth decades of my life trying to reconcile my sexuality with my faith and the public face of my life.

For almost 20 years now I have spent much of my time and effort trying to share what I learned in that school of hard knocks over those three decades of intense study, introspection, self hate, prayer, denial and finally reconciliation.

It was an awesome, long and intense journey. It was not often a pleasant journey, but it is a journey for which I now am thankful and a journey which I now see as one of the great blessings of my life.

My mother and father married just before World War II began. It was a time of great world turmoil. It became obvious that try as it may to stay out of the European Wars, the United States would be dragged into the conflict. My parents desperately wanted a child before my Dad was shipped off to war, but it was not to be. In fact even after the war had ended and my Dad returned home unscathed by it all, still no child was conceived.

My mother was a religious woman. Ultimately she had prayed for seven years for a child and her prayers had gone unanswered. Finally, in an attempt to bargain with God, she promised God that if He would giver her a child, she would dedicate that child to His service. It seemed to my mother that her prayer was answered when I was born some nine months later.

As I have mentioned in this blog many times, I was raised in the church. Eventually, my mother told me the story of her promise to God and how and why that promise had come about. She felt that because of her promise and God's seeming answer, I was destined to be a minister of the Gospel.

From a very young age, I had an unnatural interest in religion. Most kids think very little about it, but I was always interested in it. I was always listening and taking it all in. But along about my 9th and 10th years something different began to happen. I no longer was just taking it all in, I was also beginning to recognize that some of what I was taking in did not make sense to me and because it didn't make sense, I began to question. My Baptist Sunday School teacher was not accustomed to questions from ten year olds. In particular he was not accustomed to, nor did he appreciate, questions which implied by their very asking that the Bible was not the literal word of God. He went to my Dad and told him, "you had better get a hold of that boy because he is on his way to Hell."

And in a way he was right. I was on my way to Hell. Not the fire and brimstone Hell he imagined but an almost 30 year long quest for understanding of my faith, my sexuality and how two seemingly incompatible things could come together in one life.

I never told my mother about my knowing I was different sexually; but honestly, I think she knew it. Nevertheless, she encouraged me to do my own thinking, be respectful and tolerant of the views of others and work out my own salvation with God. I was almost 50 years old and my mother had been dead for almost 30 years by the time I worked it all out for myself.

During that time, I never felt the call of God to preach the Gospel as my mother had thought I would. But four months before my 50th birthday the call to share the Gospel of Christ came in a most unusual and unexpected way. I met a man. His name was Mike. He was a fundamental Christian who had struggled his entire life with his sexuality including during his 25 years of marriage, the birth of his four children and the death of one of those children. He saw himself as an abomination. He was convinced God had taken his oldest child from him because of his abominable sexual desires. After years of struggle, he was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted. He knew he was on his way to Hell and he had decided it might as well be sooner than later. He had planned his own suicide and was about to carry it out when he met me.

For some reason that I can see only as the will of God, he spilled out his story to me including his imminent suicide on the night we met. I was shocked. I was scared shitless to put it bluntly. Yet the school of hard knocks that had been my own life had given me the tools I needed for this unforeseen moment and I almost reflexively put all those years of learning into gear. I told him I could help him. I told him there was another way. I begged him for time to talk with him assuring him I could help him to relieve his pain and self hate. Though he resisted and wanted to resist, like a dying man grasping at any straw, he agreed to give me some time.

As I have mentioned before in this blog, it took three years, but the time came when Mike saw that he was not an abomination to God but rather a beloved son. Now, all these years later, Mike is alive and well and happy living openly as a partnered homosexual man.

Since Mike, there have been many many other men who have come into my life in one way or the other. Some I have met face to face, most I have only met over the internet. Many of them have responded to what I've had to tell them of the Grace of God and God's unconditional love for them. Some have not responded. Some I'm afraid, have ended up where Mike was about to end up and have taken their own lives or ruined their lives with alcohol or drugs in a desperate attempt to relieve the pain.

Most of the stories of the men I have dealt with have not been so dramatic as Mike's story, but a couple of them have been very dramatic indeed. Somehow, I never put it all together that I had in fact taken the road my Mother predicted for me until recently when a friend who has gotten to know me well over the past few years commented on my "ministering" to other men concerning their sexuality. When he said that word, it shocked me. For some reason I  had never thought about it in those terms; but when I protested the use of that word to him, he held firm that it was the correct word. I guess maybe it is.

One of the things that has always bothered me when in my dealings with other men who are at a critical juncture in their lives is that I have no formal credentials to do what I do. My wife is a licensed counselor and psychotherapist but that is the same as saying, "I slept in a Holiday Inn last night." It doesn't give me any standing. I know the Bible well, but I do not have a degree in theology.

One of the men whom I could not reach several years ago confronted me with my lack of credentials. He said to me that his preacher tells him that men like him are going to Hell. "Who are you?" he asked, "to say differently." In spite of all the guys who have responded to my attempts to help, those words from that man that i could not reach still ring in my ears after all these years. He was right, I simply don't have recognized credentials. I have experience, I have decades of reading and study behind me, I have the reconciliation of my own faith with my bisexuality, but I don't have credentials.

Today I read a sermon from someone who does have credentials. It is a great sermon. She happens to be a United Methodist Minister, the same denomination to which I belong.

I found the sermon on the blog of a fellow blogger who is listed in my blog roll. I have blogged about Joe Blow, The Closet Professor, before. He often comes up with blog pieces I enjoy and this particular one is a great one.

For those of you who need credentials from someone to help you build new paradigms of faith and self understanding, I hope you'll carefully and thoughtfully read, "A Sermon By The Reverend Doctor Kathlyn James."(click on the link to read Rev. James' Sermon) It could change your life.

My thanks to The Closet Professor for finding it and posting it to his blog.

Jack Scott

Thought And Wisdom From The Huffington Post

From time to time I find blog posts that are filled with what I consider to be great wisdom which inspire me to an enhanced level of thoughtfulness. Some of these blogs come from my own fellow bloggers who are members of my own blog roll. Others come from the Huffington Post.

It seems I go for periods of weeks and find nothing that interests me enough to note it in the section of my blog entitled "Of Interest to Bisexual Men from The Huffington Post." (See the Right Hand Column, 7th Block) Other times I see so much of interest to me that I can't decide what to include and what not to include. Today was the latter kind of day. There was much I found of great interest. I hope you will take the time to read them all, but "Homophibia" is a must read. Don't miss it.

Since the blogs that make it to "Of Interest to Bisexual Men from The Huffington Post" come on an irregular basis, I have started adding the post date to the title to help you see what is current. Most of the blogs are actually timeless in nature. Their words of wisdom and interest remain timely and worthy of consideration long after the date they are posted. Yet, Blogger.com, while it keeps all the links to all the blogs will only let me display 10 in the Block. To get around that I have created a Page entitled "Huffington Post" Archive. You'll see it at the top of the Home Page of this blog. The archive will list all the blogs which have at one time been in the top 10 in  "Of Interest to Bisexual Men from The Huffington Post."

As with anything that appears in this blog, I am always interested in your thoughts and your comments. I like it best when you comment using an on line ID that I can respond to, but you are welcome to respond anonymously. Either way your honest opinions and thoughts are important to me. I blog because I think, but just because I think does not mean there aren't new thoughts for me to consider. That's where you come in.


Thanks to all of you who support this blog and a special thanks to all of you who have shared it with your friends.


Jack Scott

Faith - The Challenge of Injustice

I write a lot about faith and religion in this blog. I am generally pro faith and anti religion. Faith can be a sustaining influence in our lives. Each of us is able to define our own faith. I like that. Not so with religion. Religion comes complete with its own dogma which more often than not doesn't sustain us at all. Rather, it often intentionally tears us down and does its best to convince us that we are nothing in the sight of God. I see religion as a negative influence in our lives. Faith, on the other hand is largely a positive influence in our lives.

That doesn't mean our faith can't be challenged or even be severely shaken. It can be indeed. I guess the thing that challenges and shakes my faith more than anything else is the injustice rampant in the world.  As I write this blog on a Mac Book Pro, I am surrounded by comfort and convenience. It is hot in Houston but air conditioning keeps me comfortable. It's just the two of us, but we live in a large four bedroom home in a nice neighborhood with quiet streets, well kept lawns and lots of trees. Food is abundant for us. We have access to every material thing we need or want.

Yet, much of the worlds population lives in make shift homes without running water and without adequate sewage disposal. And there is nothing that can really be done about it. If the affluent gave everything they have to the poor, then the only result would be that everyone would be poor. There seems to be no justice in that.

At the beginning of June, my good friend Bill passed away. Bill was a good man who had been through a great deal of tragedy in his life. But he never let it get him down for long. He made the most of what he had; and in spite of all the tragedy, he became a very wealthy man and shared that wealth with a great number of people who were not as fortunate as he. Yet, he died all to young while some that have contributed nothing to anyone in all their long lives continue to draw breath. Where is the justice in that?

Last Thursday, the 24 year old daughter of a friend of mine lost her battle with colon cancer. She died before she ever really had a chance to live. Yet, not more than five miles from where she lived, a woman in her 80's who can no longer contribute anything to anyone, who can neither sit nor stand and who can not speak or comprehend continues to live draining the energy of her son who is caring for her the best he can. Where is justice in all this? Where is God?

I first asked these questions in 1969 when my mother died of cancer at age 48. Up until six months before her death she had been contributing greatly to society as a teacher of young children and a mother to her family. She never lost faith in God. She accepted her plight as God's will. I never could bring myself to be quite as stoic.

Later in 1969 my 23 year old cousin died in Viet Nam. He was a great kid with a new wife. He had much to give to this country other than his life. But thousands who had and never would have anything to give to anyone continued to live as we buried my cousin. Where is the justice in that? Where is God?

It has been said that the good die young. It seems there is truth in that saying and every time I see it in someone close to me, my faith is shaken.

The Bible assures us in Romans 8: 28 -29 that all things work together for the good of those that love the Lord. I've seen that to be true in the case of my mother's death. I actually benefitted in some ways from her death, but that only made things worse and filled me with a sense of guilt. Realizing that my mother would have gladly given her life to benefit me and my family helped, but did not heal the wound caused by her death. I'd give up all the benefit gladly to have had a few more years with her.

The Bible tell us that God transcends us in every way. It tells us that His way are not our ways. That is certainly easy to see. As human beings, the best of us often seem to have more compassion for others than does God who is said to be infinite in Grace. To observe that shakes my faith.

But in the midst of all that shakes my faith, I still see things all around me that continue to confirm my faith at the same time. I try to content myself with the hope that those who die young go to a better place and to a better life.

If there is a just and loving God, infinite in Love and Grace, I look forward to His bringing me to the point of understanding all the things in life that defy understanding.

As shaken as my faith is at this moment, I simply cannot believe that the beauty of the earth, not to mention the universe is an accident, the product of a scientific anomaly. All that is good in our lives, and there is good in even the most meager lives, has to spring from something bigger than ourselves. Faith is the belief in things unseen. In the end, I choose to cling to faith.

Jack Scott

Thinking for One's Self - Growing Self Expectations

Updated June 15, 2012

For the last sixteen or so years, I have spent a significant part of my time talking to men who are not heterosexuals. I state it in the negative for a reason. Almost always these men have been aware for many years that they are different from ordinary men, but sometimes they are not sure what the difference is.

I can both sympathize and empathize with these men because for many years, I was one of them. I knew I was different, but I wasn't sure exactly what the difference was.

Fortunately for me, I've never been one to shy away from the unknown. I've never been the type of person to sit back and not look at a problem in hopes that it would go away. That doesn't mean I have always faught every battle that could be faught. I definitely haven't. I've always believed that an intelligent man does not start a war he cannot win, so I've always chosen my battles carefully.

The companion philosophy to not fighting every battle, is not to fight even the battles one must fight until the time is right for the fight. Sometimes that is a harder thing to determine. Sometimes one has to learn how to make the determination over time. That is what happened to me. I always knew I was different, but I was not always sure it was something I would have to one day confront.

Growing up in my family, there were just things that were expected of me. Many of these things were so embedded in me from an early age that it simply never occurred to me to question them. Doing well in school was always one of these things. Respecting my teachers was another. There was no question at all that I would grow up, graduate from college, marry, work successfully and raise a family. These were not things I ever thought of as "my wants," they were simply expectations that had always been in place.

I don't even know how they came to be in place really. I don't remember them ever being conveyed to me in any memorable way. They just were. The only time I ever remember these expectations being directly discussed was when I told my parents I wanted to get married when I was 18 years old. They weren't happy with my decision though they were most happy with my choice for a wife. At that time, an 18 year old boy could not marry in Texas without parental permission. I don't think it ever occurred to my parents to deny their permission. I don't think they saw that as an option, but they did take the opportunity to remind me that getting married would make obtaining a college degree much more difficult, but not one bit less expected of me. I reassured them I understood this and that I was confident I could handle the challenge.

So, I was married and began working my way through the remaining three years of college that lay before me. My marriage was happy right from the start and it only got better with the passing months. But in spite of the happiness there was one great shock for me. I had come to see my male/male sexual partnerships as simply an effective substitution for heterosexual sex. The boys I had grown up with were always willing, ready and able. Girls had been another matter. Well at least the girls I wanted.

I assumed once I was married, with the woman I loved in bed with me each night, there would be no problem in turning all my sexual attention to her. The shock came when that did not happen. We had great sex, enthusiastic sex from the beginning and it got better, much better, with practice. And man did I enjoy the practice. But in spite of all that, I found my waking thoughts still turned to guys and at night my dreams would turn to them also. This disturbed me greatly. I had no idea what it meant. I did know I was not homosexual, but how else would one categorize it? I had no idea.

But it was not a battle that had to be fought at the time. My priorities were clear. I had not time for anything other than school, work and my wife. I might have to confront the battle with my sexuality at some point, but it would not be at this point in my life. It simply was not the time for it and there was no time for it in the foreseeable future.

The issue burdened me to some extent for almost the next 30 years before the right time came to confront it. I could not have imagined the way in which I was led to confront the issue. Mike came into my life. I had a big part in helping him to confront the issue of his homosexuality. Talking with him, learning with him led me to be convinced I was not a homosexual man. I was and am a bisexual man. It  was a simple matter of comparison and contrast between his situation and mine with a little study of the issue thrown into the mix.

Discovering "what" was the easy part. The hard part was reconciling it with my faith, but I had always been good about thinking out issues of faith. Though raised in a fundamental faith, I had made up my mind by age twelve I would not remain there. The fundamentalist claim that the Bible was without error did not make sense to me, even at age twelve. All one had to do was actually read it to see that it was filled with contradictions and errors. The best claim that could be supported for the Bible was that it was a guide to faith. The facts and the known history of the book simply did not support any claim to infallibility. It was easy to find books by other Christian scholars that supported my views on the matter,  and in a contest between well educated Christian scholars and Christian fundamentalists whose educations were, more often than not, inferior or only basic, the choice of whom to give the greatest weight was an easy one.

Unfortunately, such decisions are not all that easy for everyone. My parents not only gave me permission to think for myself, they demanded I do so. I am overwhelmed these days by the number of adults who still do not realize they have both the ability and the duty to think for themselves!

I am simply astonished by adults who continue to let others do their thinking for them. I am incredulous at the number of adults who cling to a view of the world they were taught as children. For all intents and purposes, these adults might as well still believe in Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy. Children can make do with a child's view of the world and with childish interaction with the world. After all they are not yet ready to deal with the complexities and the realities of adult life. But it is an absolute disaster when adults cling to a childish view of the world and try to interact with the world using the philosophy and religious views of a child.

Today, we have Soccer Moms and Tennis Moms who are convinced they know more about what is good for their kids that do their Pediatricians. Based on all their years of "medical" education and experience these idiot Moms and even more idiot minded husbands make the choice to leave their children unvaccinated against measles, chickenpox and other dangerous and potentially deadly childhood diseases because they in all their knowledge and experience have concluded that autism is a bigger threat to their kids than very real and possibly deadly childhood diseases.

Today, the United States is full of people who are not only convinced of their right to an opinion, they have confused that right with knowing the facts. In their confusion they have come to think they have a right to personally define the facts of any issue. They have no idea whatsoever that facts remain the same, no matter what one's personal beliefs or desires may be. The fundamentalists among us have no idea whatsoever that facts cannot and should not be equated to faith. Indeed, they revel in putting their ignorance on display.

I feel that any mentally and physically healthy person has to have faith in something or someone. Just as importantly, a healthy person must know and understand the facts of life. They must understand that even in this fast changing world, the facts of life seldom change. Above all they must understand that the facts of life are not the same as what they may choose to place their faith in.

Most of the world's educated people, even those with only the most rudimentary educations agree that it is a fact that the earth is round and orbits around the sun. It is right for people to accept this as a fact. Scientists have long since proved it to be true. At the same time, the overwhelming majority of the people of earth are religious people. They believe in something higher than themselves, something holier than themselves. Yet, with the majority of the earth's people being believers, there is still no where near a consensus regarding what they should or what they must believe. Interestingly enough, it seems that Christians and Muslims, of all religions, are the most confused about their faith. Muslims range from truly good people who have great faith in something higher than themselves to Islamic terrorists who use their religion as a weapon against those they hate. Worse yet, the use their religion to prey on their own people convincing them that God wants them to strap a bomb onto their body and kill innocents. As for Christians, in spite of everything Christ taught, far too many fundamental Christians believe they can either be good enough to earn their way to Heaven or bad enough to be condemned to Hell. According to the Gospel of Christ neither belief is true.

The two great religions of the world are Christianity and Islam. Christianity itself has several divisions the largest of which are Catholic and Protestant. Protestant's themselves are divided into hundreds of denominations and dogmas. Over the last few years some of the denominations, because of their unyielding fundamental attitudes, have given their denominations a bad name in the public eye. They have tarnished their brand. Their response has often been to drop the denominational name and call themselves non-denominational churches. It is a slick approach to a self created problem, but it will not long be effective because the fundamental dogma's they preach is still very much in tact under the non-dnominational title. One would be hard pressed to name a single tenet of any religious order which is not disputed by other religious orders. Religious people argue about everything!

Islamic believers make the same mistakes as Christians too often with even more tragic results. They too often put their faith in rituals and accomplishing religious tasks as the way to gain admission to heaven. This emphasis on accomplishing religious tasks, gives rise to the opportunity for the manipulative members of the faith to dupe the ignorant into sacrificing their lives to take the lives of others in the false belief they will be rewarded in heaven as a martyr for God. Bring down the twin towers in New York City on 9/11was the result of such manipulation for a supposedly religious purpose.

Yet there is a difference that is becoming less and less subtle as the religious fundamental right wing Christians get more and more adamant and strident about their views on religion and practice. Fundamental religious people will tell you Hell is your destination if you do not agree with their personal view of God and redemption. Liberal Christians, on the other hand, see the issues as an interesting thing to talk about; but they see the only thing important to talk about is the Gospel of Christ and the Gospel of Christ is abundant Grace, alway obtainable without merit and without price or conditions. That is a huge difference in viewpoints and a very important one.


In effect, fundamentalists of any kind believe each of us has one chance out of thousands to pick the right team or we are bound for Hell. Christian liberals say God doesn't give a whit about what we believe, He just wants a relationship with each of us because He loves us no matter what we believe or don't believe.

Which view makes more sense? Is God the dealer at a cosmic craps table giving each of us a one in thousands of chance to get it right, or is God a being who loves us and cares for us no matter what our choices in life have been?

If you believe God is a dealer at a cosmic craps table then you have to believe that God created millions of us for no other purpose that to feed the fires of an eternal Hell. Who would want to serve that kind of God or believe in that kind of God? He would be the worst of demons. On the other hand, who would not want to be free from games of chance and instead know that their sins and shortcomings are forgiven even before they are committed and that life and redemption are not a crap shoot. I simply can't, won't believe in a God who plays craps with our lives or our souls. I'd rather there was no God at all than that God, and I understand the lack of faith that has caused many to turn to atheism because they see all religions as corrupt and unworthy of belief.

Sin is that which separates us from God. In the last almost 2 decades I have never felt separated from God by my bisexuality. I have never seen God as distant because of my bisexuality. In fact when I opened myself to finally tackling the issue, I had never felt closer to God than I did in those first years when I was actively forming new paradigms and new understandings of my own humanity.

I'm a Christian by choice because for me, the view I have of Christ as the prophet of the love and grace of God is, to me, the best example of what God should be. Others see that example in the Buddha. Still others in the prophet Mohammad. Still others think there is something higher than themselves but have found no prophet, no organized religion which gives them a satisfactory glimpse of that higher being.

Sometimes I think this latter group of people are perhaps closer to the truth than the rest of us. Even the Bible teaches us that God transcends us in every way. That means we simply cannot understand him. Yet those who are so entrenched in their dogmas claim to not only  understand all, but to have a lock on that understanding.

Science is arriving at the understanding that there are almost certainly billions and billions of earthlike planets in the Universe. So plentiful are these benevolent planets that the likelihood we are alone in the Universe is mathematically and statically zero. If there are other worlds with other sentient beings, and if there is a God, then that God is their God too. Yet, their understanding of that God may have no similarity to ours. He or she will represent their culture and they will understand him only in the context of their culture.

Too many fundamental Christians understand God as a God of wrath and hate and not just hate but eternal hate. Perhaps that says more about these Christians than it does about God!

I see my bisexuality as a gift of God, not a curse. So do many other men. If you do not see your bisexuality or your homosexuality that way, it is time to step away from your childish views and begin to see the world around you as an adult who thinks for himself rather than one who continues to let himself be brain washed by the prophets of hate and fear.

For many of you, others have tried to keep your thinking inside a box all your life. It is a box that keeps you fearful, angry and unsatisfied with your life. It's time you begin to think out of the box. It's time you begin to think about new ways and study new ideas and outlooks. It's time to get out of the box. You'll be happy you did so.

Try it. You might just like it.

Jack Scott

Here's To You Bill

I learned this evening that my friend Bill W. passed away on June 4th. Bill was not a big man physically, but he was a true giant of a man. He had dedicated his life to his kids and his grandkids.

I think it was for them that he achieved so much that was good in a life that was all too short and filled with much more than his share of tragedy. But he never allowed himself to feel sorry for himself or let the tragedy get him down for too long. When the weight of all of it became too much for him he would retreat into himself and bear the burdens alone.

I was privileged to be one of the few people who knew Bill's life story and the full extent of the burdens he carried all his life. That he did carry them all his life, yet achieved so much in his life is a mute testimony to how great a man he was. Mute because he shared his burdens with so few.

Bill was fortunate as a young man to have a grandmother who loved and cared for him. I am convinced he would not have survived without her. She made sure he knew he was loved. He repaid her by doing the same for his own grandkids years later.

Bill lived in the midwest. His ashes were scattered, as was his wish, over the land that he loved which had sustained him and nurtured the kids he loved.

Here's to you Bill. May God hold you in his arms and wash away your burdens. May he grant you eternal peace.

Thanks for being my friend and thanks for having your grandson contact me to inform me of  your death. I'll miss you my dear friend as will those who knew you best. You were a giant in my eyes even though we never met face to face.

Rest in peace buddy!

Jack Scott

Loving Living

Yesterday, I got up early with a clear goal in mind, to feed my azaleas. I have long had a love/hate relationship with azaleas. They are so beautiful. At least they can be so beautiful. But the are a pain in the ass to grow and keep beautiful, especially here in the Houston area where the soil is predominately black or red clay which is worth nothing as garden soil and deadly to prima donna plants such as azaleas which demand the best of growing conditions and great care.

Azaleas are scattered all over my yard. They nestle under the shade of a large crepe myrtle tree on the northwest corner of the house and under the shade of a tall Savannah Holly tree on the southwest corner of the house. The azaleas under the Holly tree always look horrible. No matter how much acid I feed them or how well I keep them mulched, the leaves are never dark green as they should be and never as abundant, yet the damn things always bloom in the Spring.

The azaleas under the crepe myrtle look great. The leaves are lush and dark green. They appear to be the picture of health. In the spring they are usually covered with purple flowers, yet this year for the first time in 20 years they failed to bloom at all. I have not the slightest idea why.

Azaleas in Bloom

The azaleas in the back yard should be happy campers. The back yard is shady with only dappled sunlight in the mornings and total protection from the hot sun of summer afternoons. They are all in raised beds, as is mandatory here in the Houston area; and their roots are free to roam in garden soil which I have bought in great quantities and hauled in for their enjoyment. Still, they require constant feeding and attention. Acid a couple of times a year and a bit of epsom salts every few weeks and water, lots of water.

As it turned out yesterday morning was perfect day for the job at hand. The day was so wonderful I found myself much immersed in the love part of my love/hate relationship with the azaleas as I worked with them. The morning air was cool by south Texas standards this time of year and the skies were cloudy. Thunder rolled in the distance as I worked, but I had very little faith that it promised any rain. I was content to listen to it as I worked enjoying its rumbling roll in the cool morning air.

Gardenias in a Crystal Dish

When I finished the azaleas, I decided I might as well move on to the gardenias as they like the same acid and epsom salts diet as the azaleas though they are not nearly so finicky about growing and showing off their blooms as are the azaleas. The truth is I was still enjoying just being out in the garden working in the soil while listening to the thunder which continued to roll in the distance. The gardenias are in my garden because they are my wife's favorites. They are planted at the edge of one of the patios where we often eat dinner in the Spring and Fall, and each Spring they fill the early morning air and the evening air with their almost over powering fragrance. This year the green of the shrub's leaves was almost completely hidden by the white blooms which were so profuse that the branches on which they rested were bowed downward under their combined weight. There were literally thousands of blooms. My wife would pick a few each day and put them in small crystal dishes to bring their fragrance into the house.

I finished my task just as the morning was ending. I was covered in mulch and mud from my feet up to my waist. Even though the morning had been relatively cool, I was drenched in sweat as well from crawling around on my hands and knees all morning. I sat down under the covered patio to rest and to take a few minutes to just enjoy my garden. In spite of all the hard work that goes into it, it is a labor of love for the most part; and to be truthful, I'm not sure what I enjoy most, the work of building and maintaining it or just sitting and enjoying it. I do know for sure I spend more hours working in it than sitting and enjoying it, though I truly love both.

Just as I sat down, the skies opened and the rain I had not expected began to pour down. The slight breeze I had enjoyed all morning suddenly became a wind and it rushed through the huge trees which shade the back yard with the beautiful noise of rustling leaves and pouring rain. The smell of the rain danced into my nostrils. It was almost intoxicating.

I sat there and thought how lucky it was that just as I finished the fertilizing, the rains should come to soak it all into the roots of my garden plants. It was a fortuitous coincidence indeed.

But as I sat there thinking and enjoying the rain and the wind, feeling the welcome spray of the raindrops on my body when the winds whipped them under the roof of the patio from time to time, I found myself thinking it was not just fortuitous coincidence at all. It was a gift. A gift just for me, just as this solitary morning in my garden had been. A gift from the solar system, a gift of my own work and imagination to bring a vacant lot to be a beautiful garden or a gift of God. The source of such a gift is for the receiver to decide, but I choose to see it as a gift of God.

The day before had been a great day as well. My oldest friend and I had spent the day playing golf. The morning had been beautiful, and I felt the joy of being alive and free to spend the day with an old friend laughing at each other's slices and hooks of our golf game and celebrating each other's good hits of the ball when one did come along. It was a great morning and our play stretched into the afternoon before we finished the 18th hole. We're never in any hurry when we play. We're both retired and our hurrying days are over. We play at a leisurely pace allowing those who come up behind us to play through as we sit and enjoy critiquing their swings.

But the day that had held such joy ended on a less than joyful note when I received a late afternoon call from my oncologist. I had been in the day before for my regular tests. There had been a blip in one of them. He had told me the slight blip did not worry him and that we would watch it for a while and see how it went. But on the phone, he told me he had presented my case to his colleagues, and they felt a change in my therapy was appropriate. A change in therapy means excruciatingly painful tests and other invasive tests that are just a pain in the butt. Some of the literally a pain in the butt. It also means dealing with another set of side effects and worrying about whether or not the new therapy will be effective; and if so, for how long? After all, there is no cure. Only therapy to slow down and/or tempoarily impede the tumors.

The shock of the unexpected news had knocked me for a loop; but as is my nature, I had begun adjusting quickly, and the morning in the garden had been great for attitude adjustment. The right-on- time gift of the rain did nothing but help to seal my attitude adjustment. Who was I to complain? I am free to spend every morning in my garden, I am free to spend any morning I want playing golf with my buddy. Unlike my friends who are my age, I don't have to worry any longer with earning a living or working long hard hours in Houston, fighting traffic to get there and to get back home. It's not that I am not familiar with that world. I am very familiar with it. As a guy who married at age 18 and worked full time to get through college while taking a full course load and graduating in 4 years, I know the hard realities of work. I also know the value of work as a guy who worked hard enough, planned enough and was lucky enough to retire at an early age at a time when many people more than old enough to retire at the usual age are having to continue working because of the poor economy. I have, as I always say, led the most blessed of lives.

As I sat on the patio listening to the rain and the wind, I couldn't help but review my life. I grew up with a father who believed in and knew the value of hard work. Not being privileged to even complete high school, my father had depended on hard work to make it into the middle class and he had succeeded in doing just that in the Texas oil and gas industry. If hard work worked for him, he thought hard work and a college education should certainly work for me and my brothers. By the time I was 14, I was working for a paycheck. I graduated from high school at 17, entered college and married my high school sweetheart at the end of my Freshman year of college.

I knew the value of work, but I had no idea at all what I wanted to do with my life. I had never, unlike many of my friends, had the burning desire to be anything in particular. I did want to be successful in something. That was the only thing I knew for sure.

After college, I tried various things. One of them I liked, but it was nothing that would bring me the financial success I wanted to achieve in life for the benefit of myself and my family. Another of the things I tried, I hated and soon found it would not bring the financial success I desired either. The third thing I tried would have brought me the financial success I wanted, but not the life I wanted. I was stuck. What to do? Looking back, I can't believe what I did. It was the biggest gamble I ever took in my life and in the lives of my family. In the early 70's I packed my wife and two young children into the car. Packed a U-Haul trailer pulled behind the car and drove to Houston to find the life I desired, not even knowing exactly what that might be.

It took two years and another couple of false starts to find what life really had in store for me. Even when I found it, I didn't know I had found it. At first, it was just an opportunity. But soon it became much much more. I fit in well. So well that within 18 months I had gone from  a new hire to a management position. My wife was also doing well in the boom town which was Houston in the 1970's.  Money, which had always been short for us, was no longer a problem. A whole new world was opening up for us. Soon we moved out of the apartment into our first house and then a bigger house and then an even bigger house that we built the way we wanted where my garden began to take shape. We were blessed beyond measure.

It's  not that there were not bad times in our lives. There were. Shortly after our wedding, my wife lost her Dad. My Mom, who had always been such an important part of my life, passed away shortly before the birth of our first child. She had been so happy to hear the child was on the way, but she was not to live to see the birth. We almost lost that first child at birth. But blessed by an alert doctor who knew exactly what needed to be done and knew that he couldn't do it, but knew who could, our first born was saved.

My Dad and her mother died at much too young an age and we found ourselves alone in the world except for each other and our children. And of course, always in the background of my life was the problem of my sexuality. It was a part of me that was kept bottled up deep inside me and shared with no one, not even my wife, especially not with my wife.

In those early years, it was pretty easy to deal with really. It would flare up like some dread disease and cause me great discomfort, and then I would fight it down and life would return to normal. I was simply so busy and had so many competing responsibilities in those early years, I didn't have the luxury of time to deal with the issue much less exercise it.

What I did  have was a great marriage, a great family and a great career, all of which, I loved. My wife and I were truly in love, and god did we love! She could, and did, shake my world with our love making on a regular basis. I loved it, but in a way it confused me more. With love like that, why did I feel I needed more? Why was there still a dark part of me that would not be satisfied?

By the time we were 43 years of age, the last child was out of the house; and both kids were on their own and doing well in their own lives. My wife had, with a great deal of dedication and work completed her education which had been interrupted by our marriage and was well on her way to success in her chosen career. I was at the peak of my career and accountable to no one on a regular basis. My success had bought me the right to do the job as I saw fit; and for the most part, the job was mine to define and carry out. Those were great days. The hours were as long and hard as ever, but the difference was that I was well compensated and time was mine to flex. I could basically set my own schedule so long as the job and make sure it was done. I made sure the people around me were people who could do that with minimal supervision from me.

With more time at my disposal, and fewer burdens always at hand, the monkey on my back, my sexuality, began to make increasing demands. As I have documented before in this blog, it caused me a great deal of pain. But then, just as I felt I could take it no longer a whole new world opened for me when my first adult buddy entered my life. As I have also mentioned in earlier blog pieces, I came to see my whole life had been preparation for meeting him and helping him to deal with his own monster. At first I was so involved with dealing with the issues that were trying to destroy his life, I failed to see that dealing with him and his issues was changing my life for the better by helping me to deal with my own issues and my own lack of understanding of those issues.

The conflict between my sexuality and my faith began to disappear as I came to realize God was guiding and directing me in ways I would have theretofore thought impossible in helping me to help my buddy. It became very clear to me God was not mad at me or angry at me for being what I am. Neither was he angry with my buddy for being what he is.

And there was another thing. My buddy was struggling to identify and accept his homosexuality. Having a front row seat to observe his struggle and to participate in it, I came to see, for the first time, the answers to who and what I am. While I was not heterosexual, I was not homosexual either. I came to see that I am a bisexual man. That label, even though labels are hated by so many men, gave me a sense of peace in my life I had never had. I knew then why in spite of all my wife gave me, I wanted more. And I learned through personal experience that having all I needed for the first time in my life made me not only a different person but a better person. For the first time, in a life that had always been blessed, yet tortured, I was living in peace in every aspect of my life. I was living and loving it.

In the years that followed other men who needed help somehow came my way on a regular basis. The BisexualBuddies Group was born and followed several years later by this blog. The numbers of men and their wives I came into contact with increased sometimes to the point that I was almost overwhelmed.

It was John F. Kennedy who once said, "Here on earth, God's work must truly be our own." I say it most humbly, but I see the last nearly 20 years as my small contribution to God's work. And it is God's work that we live in a time when equal rights and increased acceptance for gay people are becoming a new norm. It is God's work that gay men and women are coming quickly to be seen as just a normal part of the human condition. It is God's work that society is coming to see these men and women have much to contribute to society; and in deed, always have in spite of the prejudices they have endured. I am proud to have played a small part in this revolution of ideals. I am proud to count my gay and bisexual friends as true friends. I am elated to see what they are accomplishing in their individual and collective lives. I'm living and I'm loving it.

As a Christian, I see God work in the lives of other Christians to cause them to open the doors of their churches and their individual lives to Christian gay and lesbian people. I have not the slightest doubt God is smiling over this renissance of understanding.

I admit I have less and less tolerance for my fundamental Christian brothers and sisters who continue to adamently resist the renissance God Himself is leading for the benefit of gay and lesbian people. These vocal minorities are probably the sons and daughters of the same Christians who resisted the idea that black people were human beings and not an inferior race condemned to slavery by the word of God they (Christian fundamentalists) so willfully misinterpreted. The willful misinterpretation of God's word continues today as it relates to homosexuals. This week the world was subjected to a viral video of a 4 year old boy singing in chruch, "ain't no homo gonna go to heaven," while the adults shouted and clapped in ferver born of madness and misplaced religious zeal (click here to see the video). I feel sorry for these Christians that they have no understanding whatsoever that they are the ones who dispease God. But in another way I take great joy in their perverse demonstrations. Their very zeal, their constant outcries against a world they see as going to Hell is assurance to me that God is in control as he has always been and that these so called Christians are mainly upset because they see the writing on the wall. Their cause, their beliefs are already defeated. They are already pissing into the wind. Impartial polls already confirm that the majority of Americans, including American Christians, have no religious or secular problems with gay men and women having full rights in American society. I'm living in interesting times and I am loving it.

Later this summer, my wife and I will travel to Europe for the wedding of a gay friend of mine. He is one of the Christian men who crossed my path. When we met, he was hopeless and resigned to a life he didn't want to live. Just by being his Christian friend and offering him some interpretations of the Bible by well known Christian writers, he came to see for the first time that fundamental Christians have no lock on the likes and dislikes of God or the thoughts of God. Today he's a happy man looking forward to a life he never dreamed possible. I'm a living part of that and I am loving it.

In fact, the only thing I'm not loving these days is those who do not have the courage to even think new possibilities. Another gay friend of mine is in a relationship with a fundamental Christian man. This young man is truly in a box. He cannot be heterosexual because he is homosexual, but neither can he reconcile his faith with his sexuality. He is miserable. Happiness is not even on the horizon for him. He is totally captive to the absurdities of his upbringing in a fundamental Christian home. Even though he is college educated and intelligent, he sees any straying from the word of God, as taught to him by his fundamentalist father, as an attack upon his father. I have made an attempt to talk to him, but he is offended and angered by the suggestion of any view of God that does not include judgmentalism on God's part. He denies entirely any possibility that Grace could be bestowed on him as an actively homoseual man. He thinks perhaps he would be alright if he just thought as a homosexual man but did not act as a  homosexual man. He's too young to remember it was former President Jimmy Carter who pointed out to the world that the Bible says to think something is the same as to do it.

I am deeply saddened by such men. There are tens of thousands of them who have closed their minds, closed their ears and doomed themselves to a life of bitterness, anger and pain when it doesn't have to be. Their intractability has doomed them to living life's they hate and lives that are full of emotional pain.

It confounds me more on an intellectual level I think than it does on a religious level. There are just about as many views of God as there are people alive on the earth. That is a fact that is easily observable. With this being true, how could anyone think that a God worthy of the title would stake everyone's very soul on one particular view of God being correct; and thus, condemn the vast majority of His own creation to an eternal Hell? The very idea is ludicrous. It would be the same as a human father of 12 children slitting the throats of the 11 he found less favor with than the 12th. None of us can imagine a human father doing such a thing, but we have no problem at all attributing that capability to a God that is supposed to transcend us in every way. How utterly ignorant are Christians who believe and cling to such views of God! Yet, I'm still living and loving life, because I know people in general are simply becoming too well educated to hold such views for too much longer.

People will either change their view of God to a more benevolent one or they will simply cease to believe in God altogether. Speaking as a moderate Christian, I honestly think the world would be better off filled with atheists than it would to be filled with fundamental Christians. Atheists rarely think of themselves as somehow chosen people, and they rarely try to live other people's lives for them. They rarely try to force their view of God or the lack of God on anyone else. Most of them do not believe in God, yet they live by a moral code, they contribute greatly to society and they don't foster hate towards those who are not atheists.

Over the years, I have come to believe it really does not matter to God how one sees Him or if one believes in Him with only the wish he could have faith. In the end, all will be well. But that is the problem. The end is a ways off for many of us and there is room enough and time enough for a great deal of pain and heartache in most of our lives. That is a rub we create for ourselves when we refuse to think for ourselves,  the fault is not in the nature of God.

Someone once said, "I've been rich and I've been poor. Rich is better." Well, I've lived in pain and self hate. I've lived with feeling my bisexuality a burden. I now live in peace and with a sense of loving life even with its problems. I live now seeing my bisexuality as a gift. I can assure you, seeing it as a gift is better than seeing it as a curse. You should try it. What have you to loose? Not your soul, I'm convinced of it.

One's sexuality should be one of the principal spices of his life. It should be a joyous thing! It should not be something that causes pain or hurt or fear of eternal damnation. I am able to enjoy, truly enjoy, a day in my garden because I am secure in myself and in my view of things larger than myself. It is  not that I have not had bad things happen in my life. It is instead that I am happy and secure in my life, and I can look back and readily see the blessings of living and loving life rather than dwelling on the difficulties of life. Everyone has the opportunity to do the same. One needs only to seize the day.

Jack Scott