I was reminded of the call of God in my life the other day in a way that I did not expect. I was using the locker room at the Y when he crossed my path.
He had a look of innocence. He couldn’t have been more than 24 and he looked like he was off to a good start. He appeared educated and capable. A professional man, I guessed that he was, but with kind and friendly eyes.
Some of his behaviors made it clear, however, that he was same-sex attracted and he was "cruising" in the locker room.
I am sad for this man. In one of the best seasons of his life, he was being led by the nose by his sex drive. I am old enough now to know where this leads. Hundreds of sexual encounters, probably, by the time he is 30. Maybe a couple of relationships that will leave him broken and spent. Disease. His emotional growth will be stunted because he will handle difficult feelings with sexual escapes. He is running from one of God’s most precious gifts to him: the experience of being the man and feeling like a man. He is on a road that leads nowhere.
Where are the voices of warning? Who can help this man, were he decide to walk a different road?
This young man reminds me of myself 25 years ago. The profound longings for manliness, confusing emotions, various fears, deep passions, and cravings for relationships conspired together. Gay experiences were hard to resist. The people and places where I sought help offered little of the instruction and support that I really needed.
Now I am 48. Thank God for forgiving me, maturing me, leading me, and making a man out of me.
I think again of the young man, and the thousands of young men like him. And that is why I am a coach and not a CPA.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. Psalm 51:12-13
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Why I am a Coach and not a CPA
Twenty-six years ago, this very month, I passed the CPA exam. I sat in Currigan Hall (which has since met the wrecking ball) in downtown Denver, with several sharpened #2 pencils, and darkened bubbles on a paper for hours at a time. Though the test took only 2 ½ days, it was the culmination of 4 years at the University of Colorado and months of preparation.
That was the start of a blessed career. Difficult at times, but blessed. The first job at Arthur Andersen was rocky. But eventually I opened my own practice. God blessed us with wonderful clients and employees. My work in the accounting field provided me a good living, satisfying relationships, and a sense of purpose.
There have been times recently, usually driving home from a satisfying day at an accounting client’s office, when I am prone to second guess the decision to walk away. My accounting firm is turning a good profit and I have good relationships with my clients. So I decided that one of my first blogposts would be about leaving it all for life coaching.
There is a simple explanation, really: a call from God. I believe that He is calling me to this adventure in the next season of my life. I’m not sure where it will go, but I am going to follow.
The apostle Peter was sitting safely in a boat when he saw Jesus walking on the water nearby. Getting out of that boat and stepping out on the lake defied logic. No matter. “Jesus, ask me to come to you!” Somehow he knew that if Jesus called him out of the boat he could walk on the lake too. Then Jesus called. “Come!”
Without any forethought or analysis Peter hopped out. What a thrill that must have been! Can you imagine the excitement? Eleven others sat stunned and amazed!
So I feel a little like Peter. God is calling me out of the secure boat . . .
That’s why I am a coach and not a CPA.
He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. 1 Thessalonians 5:24
That was the start of a blessed career. Difficult at times, but blessed. The first job at Arthur Andersen was rocky. But eventually I opened my own practice. God blessed us with wonderful clients and employees. My work in the accounting field provided me a good living, satisfying relationships, and a sense of purpose.
There have been times recently, usually driving home from a satisfying day at an accounting client’s office, when I am prone to second guess the decision to walk away. My accounting firm is turning a good profit and I have good relationships with my clients. So I decided that one of my first blogposts would be about leaving it all for life coaching.
There is a simple explanation, really: a call from God. I believe that He is calling me to this adventure in the next season of my life. I’m not sure where it will go, but I am going to follow.
The apostle Peter was sitting safely in a boat when he saw Jesus walking on the water nearby. Getting out of that boat and stepping out on the lake defied logic. No matter. “Jesus, ask me to come to you!” Somehow he knew that if Jesus called him out of the boat he could walk on the lake too. Then Jesus called. “Come!”
Without any forethought or analysis Peter hopped out. What a thrill that must have been! Can you imagine the excitement? Eleven others sat stunned and amazed!
So I feel a little like Peter. God is calling me out of the secure boat . . .
That’s why I am a coach and not a CPA.
He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. 1 Thessalonians 5:24
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Appreciating the Challenge
Awhile back my mother told me that she thought that I had lived a hard life. I wasn’t sure what to make of the comment, nor am I sure that I agree with it. But as I reflected on it I understand why she might think so.
My mother is aware of my battle with same-sex attraction. There was a bleak season about 12 years ago when I needed all the support that I could get with the whole thing. I decided to tell her all about it and she was indeed a valuable help at the time.
But my mom also walked through the trying times in my adolescence when my health was in a crisis. When I was 14 I was diagnosed with a bone cancer that was rare, and, at the time, usually fatal. My parents had to deal with the weighty medical decisions, daily trips downtown for radiation, weekly ones for chemotherapy, my lousy attitude about it all, and, what looked to be my approaching death.
I didn’t die. The required treatment, however, resulted in the amputation of my right foot in November of my junior year of high school.
At this point in the story, people often say, “Wow, what an awful time of life to lose a limb!” I’m not so sure. Kids handle catastrophic illness better than adults.
Along with the carefree, “don’t-bother-me-with-cancer-treatment” attitude of a kid, at 16 I had enough maturity to realize that I was at a fork in the road that would steer the rest of my life. Was this turn of events to be a cause of ongoing self-pity? Or would losing my leg become an ongoing source of challenge and accomplishment? God gave me the grace to choose the latter.
My leg was amputated 32 years ago. In January of this year I completed my first triathlon. Then another in April. Sure I finished toward the bottom of the pack. But I won the self-proclaimed physically-challenged division (yes, I was the only member). I’ll never forget the pleasure as I walked to my car with the “certificate of completion” in hand. Last week, while out on a training ride, I met a man who caught up to me and said, “I’ve never met you before but you are my hero. All of my friends are giving up cycling for one reason or another but seeing you out here really inspires me.” "How often does a guy get to hear that?" I thought to myself. Just as I had suspected 32 years ago, losing a limb has been a life-long challenge full of satisfaction.
Why am I talking about my physical challenges here? Because they have become a blueprint for how I view same-sex attraction. Will I descend into self-pity and constantly grumble about how hard and unfair it is? Yes it is hard and unfair. I am not suggesting that anyone deny reality or stuff the grief, anger and shame that he might experience. But there is a lot to be said for a positive attitude.
Most men get handed their masculine identity and don’t even realize what a gift they have been given. Like many other men, however, I have scratched and clawed and fought and prayed to obtain it. We've paid $$$ to go on masculine development weekends in other states. We've read books, pursued counseling and coaching, taken part in groups etc, etc, all to obtain our precious freedom and masculinity. What great value these things are in our hearts when we find them! What joy comes from a breakthrough of freedom or a rush of masculine strength!!
So I will enjoy this journey and wring every drop of satisfaction from it that I can. It has packed my life with purpose and it is making me into the man that I want to be.
But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9
My mother is aware of my battle with same-sex attraction. There was a bleak season about 12 years ago when I needed all the support that I could get with the whole thing. I decided to tell her all about it and she was indeed a valuable help at the time.
But my mom also walked through the trying times in my adolescence when my health was in a crisis. When I was 14 I was diagnosed with a bone cancer that was rare, and, at the time, usually fatal. My parents had to deal with the weighty medical decisions, daily trips downtown for radiation, weekly ones for chemotherapy, my lousy attitude about it all, and, what looked to be my approaching death.
I didn’t die. The required treatment, however, resulted in the amputation of my right foot in November of my junior year of high school.
At this point in the story, people often say, “Wow, what an awful time of life to lose a limb!” I’m not so sure. Kids handle catastrophic illness better than adults.
Along with the carefree, “don’t-bother-me-with-cancer-treatment” attitude of a kid, at 16 I had enough maturity to realize that I was at a fork in the road that would steer the rest of my life. Was this turn of events to be a cause of ongoing self-pity? Or would losing my leg become an ongoing source of challenge and accomplishment? God gave me the grace to choose the latter.
My leg was amputated 32 years ago. In January of this year I completed my first triathlon. Then another in April. Sure I finished toward the bottom of the pack. But I won the self-proclaimed physically-challenged division (yes, I was the only member). I’ll never forget the pleasure as I walked to my car with the “certificate of completion” in hand. Last week, while out on a training ride, I met a man who caught up to me and said, “I’ve never met you before but you are my hero. All of my friends are giving up cycling for one reason or another but seeing you out here really inspires me.” "How often does a guy get to hear that?" I thought to myself. Just as I had suspected 32 years ago, losing a limb has been a life-long challenge full of satisfaction.
Why am I talking about my physical challenges here? Because they have become a blueprint for how I view same-sex attraction. Will I descend into self-pity and constantly grumble about how hard and unfair it is? Yes it is hard and unfair. I am not suggesting that anyone deny reality or stuff the grief, anger and shame that he might experience. But there is a lot to be said for a positive attitude.
Most men get handed their masculine identity and don’t even realize what a gift they have been given. Like many other men, however, I have scratched and clawed and fought and prayed to obtain it. We've paid $$$ to go on masculine development weekends in other states. We've read books, pursued counseling and coaching, taken part in groups etc, etc, all to obtain our precious freedom and masculinity. What great value these things are in our hearts when we find them! What joy comes from a breakthrough of freedom or a rush of masculine strength!!
So I will enjoy this journey and wring every drop of satisfaction from it that I can. It has packed my life with purpose and it is making me into the man that I want to be.
But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9
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