Country Roads




Country Roads…

I’m currently in West Virginia–home of the “Wild and Wonderful” Appalachians, hillbillies, moonshine and this author’s wonderful girlfriend.

Hold up.
This guy has a girlfriend?
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this hormonally confused guy does, in fact, have a girlfriend, and I’ll be with her and her family for a week come Thursday. This far, it’s been incredibly hard.

Just because a heterosexual life is the one I choose, doesn’t mean this is easy. The days have been roller coasters, full of ups and downs, moment by moment. In one moment, I’m so glad I’m here, gazing into her lovely green eyes. In the next, I want to wake up in my own bed. In yet another, I want to be engaging in sexual acts with another dude. In still another, I want to end this relationship to date another girl I can’t stop thinking about.

It’s a messy situation to say the least.

In the furious longings of God by Brennan Manning, he says, “The rest of Brennan Manning is a bundle of paradoxes and contradictions… I love and I hate. I feel better about feeling good. I feel guilty if I don’t feel guilty. I’m wide open, I’m locked in. I’m trusting and suspicious. I’m honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I’m a rational animal. But I’m not. That’s some of the rest of Brennan Manning.”

I’m right there with Brennan… A bundle of paradoxes and contradictions.

I love God, but I flirt with sin. I’m longing for a life with a woman, yet lust for men. I’m here in West Virginia, while my heart wanders to a girl in Nashville. I’m pure in His sight, yet soiled with “sin dirt.” I’m happy; I’m discontent. I’m real, and I’m fake.

…I’m confused.

If there is one defining term to envelop the rest, it simply comes down to that–confusion… about life as a whole.

Back when I was a young lad, I dreamed of romancing a girl, of sweeping her off of her feet and running into the sunset. You know, Disney stuff. Well, Disney lied, and I’m left reeling with feelings of devastated disillusionment. I’ve been conned… Or this is not how it should be.

On the drive back from Virginia, after witnessing a wedding with my girlfriend, we sat silently, and all I could think about was how this relationship needs to end. I need to talk to her. This needs to stop.

Why do I feel the need to leave?
Because I’m wrestling with homosexual thoughts.
Because I want to date another girl.
Because I feel broken and inadequate.
Because this is awkward, and we haven’t spoken for an hour!
Because I feel this relationship isn’t spiritual enough.
Because I simply want to run.
Because I’m afraid I’ll break her heart.

Why do I stay?
Because I’m scared.
Because I actually do like her.
Because of the way she laughs and the sparkle in her “bedazzled” eyes.
Because of how she loves and cares for every child of God she encounters.
Because I’m uncertain.
Because I simply want to stay.
Because I’m afraid I’ll break her heart.

What will I do?
I don’t know.
It changes minute by minute, because I’m a contradiction and a bundle of paradoxes.

The song “Country Roads,” sung by John Denver sings, “Country roads, take me home to the place I belong, West Virginia, Mountain Mama take me home, country roads.”

I think that’s ultimately it–I don’t feel at home with her, not yet anyway.

Should I wait this out, hoping the sense of home will arise? Or should I keep searching? Country roads, leading to the place I belong, to the home of the heart, where are you? Where is that rugged asphalt, and where does it begin, that I may traverse its winding road, leading me to its unknown destination. Country roads, lead me home! … wherever that is.