Will at Grace
I had lunch with a friend last week who happened to be in Dallas at a conference, and I realized as we sat there with our carb-conscious chicken breasts with steamed vegetables and talked about theology, just how much we had both grown up in the past four years.
I met Will at the radio hub we both worked for in Austin in the late 90's, and I knew immediately there was something uniquely genuine and graceful about him. We started out talking about our love for coffee and good vinagrette recipes, but eventually we got around to the subject of faith and the different ways in which we had experienced God to that point. His vested interest in my faith and mine in his sparked a deep friendship that still seems to keep us continuously connected no matter how frequently or infrequently we talk now.
We used to have the best conversations over Schlotzsky's sandwiches. We were both off work by noon every day so we went to lunch regularly, and there were even occasions when we attended a lunchtime church service together at a Methodist church in downtown Austin. It was a time of tremendous growth. Each of us seemed to be at a crossroads in our life at the time, so we talked a lot about what we thought God might be calling each of us to do next. Will was feeling called to start seminary and become a Methodist pastor. I was feeling called to become a more knowledgable, faith-filled Christian so I would be able to help others as they reconciled homosexuality and Christianity. We both sought to put more energy into serving God, and as we shared the depth of what that meant for one another I think we did just that.
Getting the news that our radio hub would be dissolved in June of 2001 and we would be out of a job was all the motivation Will needed to enter seminary immediately. I was a much bigger wimp about the direction of my life. I didn't want to leave Austin, so any new opportunities I pursued were within the city limits. It was safe inside those borders and I was too insecure to look much beyond them. Will was actually the one who suggested I send a demo tape and resume to some radio stations in Dallas, and after I objected and came up with a hundred reasons why no radio station in Dallas would ever hire me, Will pointed out how foolish I was to limit God like that. He was right. It wasn't healthy for me to let fear-based excuses confine me to one spot emotionally or geographically, no matter how comfy I happened to be or how badly I chose to underestimate God's ability to use me in any circumstance. It was better to remain open to every possibility and let God close the doors.
I took Will's advice and sent a demo package to Dallas, and eight weeks later I was flying up for an interview. I got the job and I left Austin to begin anew on 9/11/01. God was busy that day, but I still felt the Presence. The move to Dallas was a leap of faith, and it has presented even more growth opportunities than I ever thought possible. I don't suppose I should be surprised. God has never allowed me to fall too far backward without launching me forward at twice the speed. Moving to Dallas has ultimately served as the catalyst that led us to the Cathedral of Hope, and it's probably that more than the job that has made our move to Dallas so fruitful. It was Will who provided the much-needed shove to set things in motion. Will lives the truth--that anything is possible with God--and God uses him to make others believe.
Being a Christian takes an extraordinary amount of faith. It would be simple to say, "Well, I've accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior" and leave it at that, but God won't let us off that easily. At least in my experience, God requires nearly constant growth and development. The minute I think I have achieved an acceptable level of knowledge and wisdom and that I am deserving of a short break at a spiritual rest stop, God sends someone to tell me otherwise and before I know it I'm back on the journey. Will provides this type of motivation for me. His love for God is indisputible and awe-inspiring, and even though he would never claim to have life all figured out, the grace that is present with him seems to provide definitive answers about the ways in which God moves through the world. It takes a great deal of faith to allow yourself to become a spiritual vehicle that packs that much punch.
I was probably at the height of the struggle to reconcile my faith with homosexuality when I met Will, so he became instrumental in helping me work through and overcome some of the reservations I had about being gay and Christian. One day as I was wallowing in my own homophobia he said, "Look, sin is an obstacle that separates you from God. Your relationship with Angela does not separate you from God; if anything, it draws you nearer." That was a huge revelation for me. Before that, I really had no common sense basis for what made certain acts sinful. But with that principle in mind, it's easy to see why things like lies and selfishness are sinful, and why homosexual relationships are not necessarily so. It's the condition of the heart that matters, and being homosexual does not automatically have a negative impact. It is what each individual does to draw nearer to God or to move further away that gives homosexuality any degree of moral relevance.
Will is a spiritual mentor whose brain I constantly want to pick. He and his wife Alisha live in Corpus Christi now where he is associate pastor at Grace United Methodist Church so we are not geographically close, but we are spiritually inseparable. By that I don't mean we always think alike and have become cookie cutters of one another, but simply that we are similarly entwined in the Spirit as we move through life. I think God puts these people in our lives to stimulate us, encourage us, and comfort us, but also to remind us how far we have yet to go. I see the things Will is doing in his life and ministry, and I suddenly have the renewed energy to know more about God and to work toward making a difference in my own little corner of the world.
Faith is infectious. And gay or straight, I think God expects each of us to leave this type of lasting impression.
I met Will at the radio hub we both worked for in Austin in the late 90's, and I knew immediately there was something uniquely genuine and graceful about him. We started out talking about our love for coffee and good vinagrette recipes, but eventually we got around to the subject of faith and the different ways in which we had experienced God to that point. His vested interest in my faith and mine in his sparked a deep friendship that still seems to keep us continuously connected no matter how frequently or infrequently we talk now.
We used to have the best conversations over Schlotzsky's sandwiches. We were both off work by noon every day so we went to lunch regularly, and there were even occasions when we attended a lunchtime church service together at a Methodist church in downtown Austin. It was a time of tremendous growth. Each of us seemed to be at a crossroads in our life at the time, so we talked a lot about what we thought God might be calling each of us to do next. Will was feeling called to start seminary and become a Methodist pastor. I was feeling called to become a more knowledgable, faith-filled Christian so I would be able to help others as they reconciled homosexuality and Christianity. We both sought to put more energy into serving God, and as we shared the depth of what that meant for one another I think we did just that.
Getting the news that our radio hub would be dissolved in June of 2001 and we would be out of a job was all the motivation Will needed to enter seminary immediately. I was a much bigger wimp about the direction of my life. I didn't want to leave Austin, so any new opportunities I pursued were within the city limits. It was safe inside those borders and I was too insecure to look much beyond them. Will was actually the one who suggested I send a demo tape and resume to some radio stations in Dallas, and after I objected and came up with a hundred reasons why no radio station in Dallas would ever hire me, Will pointed out how foolish I was to limit God like that. He was right. It wasn't healthy for me to let fear-based excuses confine me to one spot emotionally or geographically, no matter how comfy I happened to be or how badly I chose to underestimate God's ability to use me in any circumstance. It was better to remain open to every possibility and let God close the doors.
I took Will's advice and sent a demo package to Dallas, and eight weeks later I was flying up for an interview. I got the job and I left Austin to begin anew on 9/11/01. God was busy that day, but I still felt the Presence. The move to Dallas was a leap of faith, and it has presented even more growth opportunities than I ever thought possible. I don't suppose I should be surprised. God has never allowed me to fall too far backward without launching me forward at twice the speed. Moving to Dallas has ultimately served as the catalyst that led us to the Cathedral of Hope, and it's probably that more than the job that has made our move to Dallas so fruitful. It was Will who provided the much-needed shove to set things in motion. Will lives the truth--that anything is possible with God--and God uses him to make others believe.
Being a Christian takes an extraordinary amount of faith. It would be simple to say, "Well, I've accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior" and leave it at that, but God won't let us off that easily. At least in my experience, God requires nearly constant growth and development. The minute I think I have achieved an acceptable level of knowledge and wisdom and that I am deserving of a short break at a spiritual rest stop, God sends someone to tell me otherwise and before I know it I'm back on the journey. Will provides this type of motivation for me. His love for God is indisputible and awe-inspiring, and even though he would never claim to have life all figured out, the grace that is present with him seems to provide definitive answers about the ways in which God moves through the world. It takes a great deal of faith to allow yourself to become a spiritual vehicle that packs that much punch.
I was probably at the height of the struggle to reconcile my faith with homosexuality when I met Will, so he became instrumental in helping me work through and overcome some of the reservations I had about being gay and Christian. One day as I was wallowing in my own homophobia he said, "Look, sin is an obstacle that separates you from God. Your relationship with Angela does not separate you from God; if anything, it draws you nearer." That was a huge revelation for me. Before that, I really had no common sense basis for what made certain acts sinful. But with that principle in mind, it's easy to see why things like lies and selfishness are sinful, and why homosexual relationships are not necessarily so. It's the condition of the heart that matters, and being homosexual does not automatically have a negative impact. It is what each individual does to draw nearer to God or to move further away that gives homosexuality any degree of moral relevance.
Will is a spiritual mentor whose brain I constantly want to pick. He and his wife Alisha live in Corpus Christi now where he is associate pastor at Grace United Methodist Church so we are not geographically close, but we are spiritually inseparable. By that I don't mean we always think alike and have become cookie cutters of one another, but simply that we are similarly entwined in the Spirit as we move through life. I think God puts these people in our lives to stimulate us, encourage us, and comfort us, but also to remind us how far we have yet to go. I see the things Will is doing in his life and ministry, and I suddenly have the renewed energy to know more about God and to work toward making a difference in my own little corner of the world.
Faith is infectious. And gay or straight, I think God expects each of us to leave this type of lasting impression.
posted by Jen Austin at 2:27 PM
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