God's Garden in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I’ve been trying to keep the peace, but it’s rather difficult when things are simmering beneath the surface.

I’ve tried to avoid discussing the difficulties I’m coming upon with the job in France. It’s making it uncomfortable because it’s based upon the exact thing that separates me from my family. Years ago, my sexuality caused an uproar and forced a deep chasm within my family that has never been crossed. It has been circumvented, gone round or any other way of ignoring it. This situation, unfortunately, presses it to the forefront of any conversation regarding my future.

“Let’s talk about Paris.” “Can’t go because of that thing.” “Why did that thing happen?” “Because I’m gay.” “That’s not why that happened, we did it to save your immortal soul.”

And that’s precisely how it goes. The problem is, it makes me angry all over again. Not because they hate me because I’m gay. Or because they want to save my immortal soul. What makes me angry is the way the conversation continues.

“Well, if it doesn’t work out, then it must be part of God’s plan.”

God’s plan?! It was God’s plan for you to be an homophobic prick, overreact and ruin any future prospects I had?! That was a choice, and it was not God’s.

You know, I’ve always thought of God as a gardener, and instead of us being his children, we are his flowers. We come in many colors, some of us are staggeringly beautiful, some of us are weeds… God doesn’t make choices for us, he just creates the circumstances which help us flourish.

So France is a wonderful reminder that I’m going to Hell, and they tried to save me precisely so that I would go to France so that they would have another chance to save me from Hell.

God works in mysterious ways… or he’s just bloody stupid.