Walking the Dog and Listening to My Wife

Homosexuality is in the news. A little known NBA player named Jason Collins is hailed as the reincarnation of Jackie Robinson. He’s “come out” as an openly gay, current athlete. The President has congratulated him on this step in America’s “progress.”

The other day, after reading several articles regarding this, I was pretty worked up, so I grab the leash and our chihuahua and started to take her for a walk.

“What’s wrong?” my wife says.

“The news is upsetting,” I answer.

“I thought you looked unhappy.”

I am unhappy. I’m sad. I feel our nation is sinking into a moral pit.

I begin walking. I’m not really focused on the walk. In my head thoughts are swirling.

My brother was gay and died of AIDS. He was an amazing kid. I’m still sad. I’m still mad about it too.

Another person I love has undergone a sex-change operation.

Both situations have caused pain.

Or was it that pain caused both situations?

Suddenly I’m aware the dog wants to sniff something. I stop momentarily, all I see is the curb and grass. Then I pull her forward.

I’m formulating a blog in my mind as I see a couple with a dog nearby. I hope they’ll go the other direction. I don’t want to have to relate. They do.

Arriving home in record time, I realize I dragged the dog around the block more than anything.

I begin blogging my defense of the Biblical teaching and critique of the LGBT agenda. I realize I’m venting. So I work it over, I refine it. I reread it. Delete this, soften that, highlight this part.

If I’m too strong I’ll be called hateful. Yeah, that’s the culture now.

Do I hate? I don’t think so … IMHO.

Finally, it’s done.

I’m pretty satisfied as my wife passes on her way to the living room.

“I wrote a blog about the basketball player,” I say, - feeling pretty good about it.

“Oh, Mike, be careful. That’s a sensitive issue. You know how you can get.” (She agrees with me on the issue but handles it way better than I do.)

I immediately react. I’m thinking, “Don’t you trust me?” “Why can’t I speak out. It’s not the person. It’s the issue.”She can see I’m ticked. I’m wearing it.

Emotionally sinking, I manage to answer somewhat softly. “Yeah, uh… you’re probably right. I’ll let it sit a while before I hit the send button.” Inwardly, I still think it’s good, with some really witty potshots. 

Later that night, after dinner, I go back and reread the blog.

It’s too sharp. Too opinionated. I don’t send it. Two days later I end up throwing out almost all of it.

I keep this next line.

My assignment is to love the people God allows into my life, whether straight or gay, - to be morally pure, and to be true to His revelation in Scripture. 

It’s not easy, I have strong feelings, I don't like the countries "progress." But if I can keep dragging the dog around the block and listening to my wife, maybe there’s hope.