Night of Promise

When I asked her to the dance, I did not know how long the night would be. I promised her father that I would return her safely to her home. The night is not over. We've danced together several times, but not like some couples who seem to be having the time of their lives. So we've tried to make the best of this evening. She's danced with all of our children and grandchildren. So have I. She has danced with extended family, school, career and church. So have I. She has not danced with any other men or women and I have not danced with any other women or men. But I have stood alone and watched so many others enjoying the dance. I have talked with a few other men off the dance floor. We have had some wonderful conversations. Mostly my wife has stood alone. Or helped others. The dance is not over. My wife and I, although both distracted, are still on our date. My promise to return her safely to her father still echoes in my mind. Sometimes overshadowing even the best music I've ever heard.


(This is yet another blog entry inspired by Beck. Here's what he wrote that got me thinking.)

a man and amen

I was just re-reading a blog post I made two Decembers ago. I'm going to repost it here and add in my current thoughts:


Dear Heavenly Parents,


Thank you for sending me the man of my dreams. I loved him when I first saw him and I still love him today more than a decade later. This summer it will be 12 years, wow! Sometimes I feel frustrated that he doesn't love me the way I love him, but in my saner moments I realize there is wisdom in pairing me, a bisexual man who is a married father, with another married father who is straight. He is also kind and his kindness shines through in so many ways the longer I know him.

Yes, I sometimes wonder what our lives would be like if both of our wives died or divorced us, but I strongly suspect that my man would soon find himself dating women and would soon find himself in love with one and remarried. The same could happen with me I suppose, although maybe you've got another man of my dreams in store for me somewhere in the future and maybe this one is gay, or at least bisexual. As time passes though, I think I've become more realistic. It is a blessing to be married, and it is a blessing to have a such a good married friend. When he says, "I'd like to do that, but I can't this time because I promised my wife I'd..." we both understand we have other priorities, which also makes the time we are together memorable. 

But maybe this is as good as it gets and if that's the case, that's OK. Not just OK but great, really. I waited more than 40 years for you to place this jewel along my path and I realize that this may be it. Thank you for our many days and years together. He is so much more than an amethyst remembrance. He is real. He is alive. I stood by his side and enjoyed his laughter this very day and the day I'm writing the addendum as well. You've also given me the opportunity to be married to a wonderful woman and for us to be parents of wonderful children. She is alive. She is real. She is only a few yards away, resting her mind and her bones after a busy Monday at work. She's been out of town for a few days as I add these thoughts and I'm so glad to be with her again, so glad she's returned safely to our home. She is my friend, confidant, wife, mother of our children. I would not be the man I am, if she were not in my life. I love her as much as a man in my situation could love his wife and I know she loves me to the best of her ability given our circumstances.

You've blessed me so abundantly with the ability to love both men and women, to find some of my brothers and sisters here intriguing, mysterious and beautiful. You've blessed me with so much more, with wonderful teachers, neighbors, friends and extended family. I'm also grateful for the ability to find beauty in small things, like a smile, a "thank you", a "please", a Facebook "like", and the comments on this blog. 

You've blessed me with good health, with strength, with the ability to endure uncertainty. You've blessed me with a love of music, nature, art, food, sunshine and snow, darkness and light, fireworks, fireflies and fire itself. You blessed me to be able to notice and appreciate nature and human nature, the cold and the warmth, the extremes of summer and winter and the perfect days of transition in spring and fall. 

I've had a good life full of challenges and rewards. Certainly there is more good ahead, but sometimes on a cold winter night like tonight, I'd be just fine if I didn't wake up. Isn't that crazy? I know it is. It's irrational but understandable. I think I've grown a little more patient with myself since I wrote this. A little more tolerant of my changing moods. A little more aware that if I'm discouraged, encouragement is just around the corner, and vice versa. 
I have more to do. Children to be married. Grandchildren to be spoiled, to read with, to laugh with, to sing with, to color with, two swing with, to put on my shoulders, to run through the sprinklers in the summer, and zip into a winter coat when it's snowing, to lift in and out of high chairs, to buckle into a car seat and kiss on the forehead. To realize how much capacity I have to love and how I must have been loved as child and grandchild. I have a tender, strong, dear, intelligent, kind, loving, independent, talented, giving, patient wife to grow old with. 

And a married friend who I miss when I haven't seen him for three days. Someone who makes me smile just by thinking about him. Someone I probably stand too close to sometimes. Someone I bump into when we're walking together and when our hands touch just for a fraction of second, I know and wonder if he does too. Someone who is married to a woman he loves. But someone who enjoys his brothers, his buddies, his independence. Someone who is so comfortable in his own skin, that when I'm with him I'm somehow comfortable in mine. All just as true now as it was when I first wrote it. 

Why should I need someone else to feel this way? Because I'm human. We are social animals. Or as Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote (and Neal Maxwell quoted) "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience but spiritual beings having a human experience." I shouldn't. And I don't always. But when I'm with my man, this magic just happens. It's as natural as sunshine. The magic remains as does the warmth. It's human, it's spiritual, it's almost as tangible as a warm shower or a favorite sweat shirt just out of the dryer, and I know I'm alive when I feel it.

I'm glad that somehow we crossed paths (probably part of some great plan you two cooked up, eh?) and that our friendship has endured. I'm glad I came across that great quote from Albert Camus, "In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer." I'm glad I still know that, and that I know it even more deeply now. Thank you for all these blessings and others I can't even imagine. 

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. 

the illusive third way

Congratulations to Beck who has been out to his wife seven years and recently had a Capraesque moment with his wife. It certainly is relevant to those in mixed orientation marriages and helps put my couple of decades of being out to my wife in perspective. 

My three decade marriage to the female love of my life is wonderful and difficult. My decade of friendship with the male love of my life is also filled with wonder and challenge. 

I have sought an illusive third way as I know Beck and many others have. Perhaps we find it without knowing it, by keeping covenants yet seeking to embrace our full identity as same gender loving men married to remarkable women, as fathers, sons, brothers and friends, as men of faith and doubt.

A Thank You to the Reader I Don't Know

I want you to know how grateful I am for you in my life. We’ve had some great times together on this little planet. I haven't met you yet, and you've only met me here and perhaps through Facebook, but still we are here on the same planet at the same time and that's something to celebrate. It is amazing to me that although I don't know you, you can read what I've written here. What remarkable thing. It certainly wouldn't be a likely without technology. Yes I could put a note in a bottle and toss in the Great Salt Lake, I suppose. But even the note in a bottle takes the technology of writing and bottle making. And the risk of writing and being read. 


Thanks for our remarkable friendship. One that exists only here and in that mysterious space of not quite real but more real the more I think about it. Someday, if we do meet, things will probably be different. I will instantly be more than the writer of words and you will instantly be more than the reader of them. We will connect, perhaps only for a moment. And you or I will say, or perhaps we will both say, "not what I had in mind" and then we will continue on our separate paths. But what if it's not like that? What if I say wow and what if you say wow. What if we conclude that there is more that we're interested in. Even though it may be unlikely, what if it is a mutual wow?


Then what do we do? Since it is not likely to happen I'm not going to worry about it. But by telling myself that I'm just trying to buy myself some peace. Because the truth is that if at this time in my life if I found someone I really liked and had the potential of loving and if that person really liked and saw a potential to love me, too, it would be both wonderful and terrible. Wonderful that such a thing not only could but did happen. Terrible that if such a thing did happen, I would have to leave a zone I've felt comfortable in for many years. But then again I've not been entirely comfortable or I wouldn't be writing this. Well, there you go. Probably one of my stranger entries on this blog, but good to say nonetheless. Thanks for reading. Even by not commenting, you've giving me the potential for peace. I hope I can take advantage of that gift and I thank you for giving it, whether or not you intended to do so.

Not hungry? Just wait a while.

Beck jolted me out of my silence with his entry the Hunger that never goes away, and his question "Will it ever?" All of which prompted this reply:


Beck, my dear friend, do other hungers really ever go away?

You eat a Thanksgiving Feast and a few hours later, what do you want? More food. Another piece of pie. Maybe a cold turkey sandwich. (pun intended)

You attend the symphony or an engaging play or a great ball game. And what happens a few days or weeks or months later? You want more music, more drama, more sports.

You buy a fast new computer, or a new car, or a new suit. It's wonderful at first. Then in a while the computer doesn't seem all that fast any more. The car loses the new car smell. The new suit becomes just a suit. And eventually you hunger again for new technology or attire.

At least I do. So...

Just when I think I've accepted my MOM relationship, I find there's some new wrinkle, or some old one that returns.

Just when I think, I've got it pretty good, something comes along to show me that while I am blessed, I am also greatly challenged.

Just when I think I can swim fluently, I don't breathe right on a flip turn and a little water goes up my nose.

So yes, I relate to your hunger that never goes away. I feel it too. I do an innocent online chat with an old buddy, and pretty soon all I can think about is being in his arms.

But I also realize that most everything in life ebbs and flows. The rain--I hope, I pray, I imagine--will eventually give way to sunshine. Hey I live in Salt Lake not Seattle. And then after a while it will be too hot and I'll long for cool rainy days like today.

I have no answers. But I'm grateful for the way you pose questions. And I'm grateful for your friendship. Maybe our satisfaction in life relates more to the challenge of asking unanswerable questions rather than ease of finding questionable answers.

What do you think, Beck?

Blessings of Brotherhood

A couple of weeks ago I had a wonderful experience that I wanted to share with you. I was buying some stuff at a store and noticed that the cashier who was about to ring up my purchases looked like a friend of mine, which gave me warm feelings toward him even though we'd never met. But I decided to treat him as a friend and not a stranger. Our eyes locked as I walked up to the counter and said "How are you?" as if we were old friends.

We both smiled. His facial expression matched my hopes. He looked back into my eyes as if we did know each other.  Debit or credit, he asked. I said debit and, as if I had seen him in a variety of different shirts and ties over the years, I said, "You know that shirt and tie really look great on you. You ought to wear that combination more often." Our eyes again locked and he said, "Well thanks, bud, I will." He handed me my stuff and I said "Have a good one" and he said "You, too." It was probably over in less than a minute, but it was one of those sweet moments I hope I'll always remember.

Today when I saw the real friend that this guy reminded me of, I wanted to give him a big hug and say, "I love you so much." But he doesn't like hugs and I don't usually tell straight guys I love them, so we just talked about our weekends.

Later today I saw another friend. This time he was the one who kept making eye contact. As we talked I noticed his white teeth, his full lips, his neatly trimmed beard, the way his shirt hung on his shoulders, and then right in the middle of the conversation a kind of miracle happened. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.  I've always felt affection toward this man--another happily married fellow--but today he was the one who physically touched me. What a blessing.

I'm curious about the experiences you, my moho friends, have with your straight friends. Do you also restrain yourself? Do you also find that sometimes a friend's touch is like a gift from God himself?

Monday Morning Moho Prayer

Dear Father in Heaven, I'm grateful for this day, another day to breathe, walk, smile, work, eat, and interact with my family, associates and friends. Thank you for granting me, and so many others on this small planet another day of life. Please bless us all. The nearly seven billion of us now on the planet. Please bless my loved ones, known and unknown. My future sons-in-law and grandchildren. My wife, my children, my grandchild, my sister, and those on the other side of the veil, my mother, my father, my grandparents. Bless and help me to bless the men and women I will meet. The men and women I know now. Please bless my wonderful moho brothers and sisters. Bless us that we might feel loved and loving. That we might reach out to those we know and don't know. That the light we sometimes see in each other's eyes, will been seen in our eyes by someone who needs to see that light this day. And bless us that we might also be warmed and illuminated as we do. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Make the Yuletide Affectionate

Merry Christmas Eve! This is my first moho video. Hope you enjoy!

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p.s. I also posted on FaceBook but I think this YouTube version is the better upload. Let me know what you think.

My Christmas Wishes for You

May you find beauty in the cold of winter

warmth in the glow of friendship and family

peace in your faith

satisfaction in sociality and solitude

May you rejoice in the laughter of children

and the elderly

and everyone else in between

May you discover delightful things

about yourself and others

May you enjoy good health,

mentally, physically, spiritually

and in all other ways

and may you help other

attain such health and well-being

May you face challenges 

that will help you and others grow

But may you also grow as easily 

as a blade of grass on warms spring day

May you be blessed with the 

knowledge that your life

makes the world better 

for those you serve, those you love

and those who love you

past, present and future

May you glimpse the truth 

that there are those you know

and those you don't know 

who care deeply about you

Who thank God that 

you are who you are 

May you thank God 

and our Savior for who you 

are and your life, your blessings

your challenges

If there is within your

Soul a child who

is born with no place

to call home, may you 

welcome that child

feed and clothe and 

nurture him

Seeking Warmth in Winter

I shoveled the first big snow of winter this morning. Later as I swapped my cold boots for dry shoes, I looked at my unmade bed and thought about how nice it would be to snuggle with a loved-one on a wintry day like today. I thought first of my wife but then remembered how my occasional attempts at seduction have been rebuffed for years now.

Being bisexual in my attractions, a few other women then crossed my mind--warm, wonderful, funny, beautiful women I know. They're not alike in shape, age, hair color, eye color or personality, but they are all friendly, perhaps even a slight bit flirtatious. But they're off limits. All of them are married.

But in the realm of fantasy I can also think of men I would like to snuggle with and here's where my Kinsey 4-5 scores are evident. Whereas I think of a few women I know who I'd like to spend a snowy day indoors with, I can easily recall a dozen men throughout my life who would make fine snuggle partners, in my dreams anyway.

1. Junior High Crush #1 - I've seen and talked with him as an older man, and there's still some fire there. He's no longer tall and lean and his brown eyes are obscured by thick bi-focal glasses now, but they still twinkle.

2. High School Crush #1 -  I still think of him, too. Not as he is now, but as I remember him walking the halls or studying in the library almost four decades ago. When I hear the Carpenters sing Superstar I can still see this handsome young friend as he was in his prime.

3. High School Crush #2 - We still do lunch sometimes. He's bigger, kinder and every bit as appealing now as he was when we were teens. Maybe even more so because he's a better listener.

4. My Summer Job Crush - He was a blue-eyed, freckled redhead. We never really talked much, but we both said hello to each other almost everyday for a whole summer. I wish I'd struck up a conversation and I would today if he crossed my path. I wonder if the thick red hair has faded to white by now.

5. College Crush - We studied, talked, ate and volunteered together. I attended his missionary farewell and his wedding reception. I haven't seen him in decades but every once in a while I'll notice some one's shoulders  or their mischievous smile and think of him. 

6. Early Career Crush - He lives out-of-state now, but he's still a pleasant memory of my younger days. His thick silver hair, and clean-shaven face in online photos are not quite as appealing as the thick brown hair and full beard I admired in person, but his dark brown eyes appear unchanged.

6. My Mid Thirties Crush - Because we were in group therapy together, he knew some of my issues and I knew some of his. He knew I liked him, and I knew he didn't like me as much, we both knew it. We had lunch a few years ago. Whereas I've become more liberal and accepting he seems more conservative and excluding. 

7. My Late Thirties Crush - Every once in a while I'll search online for this man with the piercing blue eyes and the boyish enthusiasm for life. I wonder what's become of him. I wonder if he's maintained his idealism.

8. My Early Forties Crush - I've already written on this blog about the handsome curly blond with slate blue eyes. I thought I was totally over him until I found him on FaceBook and felt a thrill when he confirmed my invitation as an online friend.

9. My Late Forties Crush - Perhaps I'll write of this another time, but not now.

10. My early Fifties Crush #1- see #9.

11. My Mid Fifties Crush #1- see #9.

12. My Mid Fifties Crush #2- see #9.

So there you go. When the weather gets cold outside, I think of my good wife and the physical intimacy we once shared, but I also think of these other women and men. If any of them were available and willing, I'd welcome them into my bed, that is if I was also available. Even with all these qualifications and perhaps because of them, I'm not likely to abandon these memories and longings--just like Lancelot could not imagine a season to let go of his love.

If ever I would leave you
It wouldn't be in summer.
Seeing you in summer I never would go.
Your hair streaked with sun-light,
Your lips red as flame,
Your face with a lustre
that puts gold to shame!

But if I'd ever leave you,
It couldn't be in autumn.
How I'd leave in autumn I never will know.
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air.
I know you in autumn
And I must be there.

And could I leave you
running merrily through the snow?
Or on a wintry evening
when you catch the fire's glow?

If ever I would leave you,
How could it be in spring-time?
Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?
Oh, no! not in spring-time!
Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!

(Lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner) 

Way Over Yonder

All my grandparents are there. So are a few of my cousins. My dad and each one of his brothers and sisters and their spouses. Not just those aunts and uncles, but my maternal aunt and uncle, too. There are long gone mentors and professors. There are friends I knew fairly well, friends I barely knew, and people who I would like to befriend. 

When I make the journey, I'd like to meet some of the famous members of our club. Guys like Harvey and Stuart and Pyotr. If it were just up to me, the decision might be much easier. I've considered it before, usually just as a fantasy, but once very seriously. Not because I wanted to go, but because staying seemed so painful and pointless. 

I'm glad I resisted the temptation. I'm glad my mental health has improved. But when I read about someone like Todd Ransom and others who sought a way out, I realize I'm still vulnerable. Yes, in someways I'm stronger than I've ever been. I'm healthy, for the most part, and have so much to be thankful for. It has been a beautiful life, a good ride, a wonderful busy day at school. 

And there's more to come. More joy and more pain. More accomplishments and disappointments. More hot sunny days, cold dark winter nights, and those few perfect days we get each spring and fall here in the shadows of the everlasting hills. There are more rides, hikes, swims, fireworks and picnics. More doctor's offices, hospital stays, tears, deaths, funerals, graves and flowers to be placed on graves. There are more hugs and massages. More sunrises, sunsets and wild bells ringing out across the snow. 

I hope to be here. I've made promises I'm going to keep. And I've broken promises, too. Only in my dreams have I slept a summer by his side, but some of my days have been filled with wonder. But I know very well by now that there are dreams that cannot be and there are storms we cannot weather. Sorry to fill a post with so many ripoffs and cliches. 

Almost Summertime

I know it's not officially summer until June 21, but for many of us summer starts when school ends or on Memorial Day weekend, whichever comes first.

By both of those standards summer has been here a while now, eventhough the weather here in the shadows of the everlasting hills has been unusually cold and rainy. Thanks to George Gershwin and Dubose Heyward, summertime isn't just a season but a wonderful melody and lyric:

Summertime and the livin' is easy
fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'
so hush little baby don't you cry

One of these mornin's you're gonna rise up singin'
yes you'll spread your wings and you'll take to the sky
but til' that mornin' theres nothin' can harm you
with daddy and mammy standin' by

I also associate Summertime with this classic by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II from the musical Show Boat:

Fish got to swim, birds got to fly,
I got to love one man till I die
Can't help loving that man of mine

Tell me he's lazy, tell me he's slow,
Tell me I'm crazy, maybe I know
Can't help loving that man of mine

When he goes away,
That's a rainy day,
And when he comes back that day is fine,
The sun will shine

He can come home as late as can be,
Home without him ain't no home to me,
Can't help loving that man of mine

Which brings me to this thought: As one of the older guys on Abelard's long list of Moho bloggers I can tell you that even well into my fifties and still committed to my wife, children and faith, there are a few men on this planet and beyond that I can't help loving.

Some are dead. Some are far away. Some are on missions of various types. But one day there will be a reunion or even a meeting for the first time of someone that I've always known, someone who has always known me. That day will be fine. The sun will shine. And perhaps on that day I will know even more surely than I know now, that the love I feel is a good, noble and God-given trait that brings great challenges and even greater blessings. 

The Men in My Life

I don't really know when I started to notice them, the men in my life. It was probably before I could talk. The first men I noticed were my dad, my grandpas, uncles and neighbors. Sometimes they'd whisker me. That made me love my mom's soft face, but later I would hunger for their whiskers again. I would long for their whiskers so badly that any whiskers would do. Maybe that's why I loved that old song Razor Face so much as a teenager. Maybe that's why I'm still fascinated by beards and sideburns, even as my own fade from brown with a little red, to grey with a lot of white.

What I felt as a small child, as best I can remember it anyway, was safe and protected. As I grew a little older, I found that boys, especially older boys, could sometimes be mean, but they weren't men. They were just boys.

When I started to become a man myself, I sometimes doubted myself. I might look like a man. I might have a man's voice and his strength. I might even be manly to some, but am I just pretending. It took a long time for me to understand that a man can still sometimes feel like a child. That that's OK sometimes.

I've been blessed with so many good men in my life. Men who have helped me learn and grow and be myself. Even mean men who have helped me learn what I wanted to be, because they were jerks. That also took a while to figure out.

I've never had a lover man. But I sure have had some good friends. I've had a lot of crushes on men over the years. I still do. But I don't crush on everyone. Some men and just there and I'm pretty chill about it. They might be friends or acquaintences, neighbors or quorum brothers, even some bloggers I've never met. I'm comfortable around them, for the most part, because they're just part of the environment, with only a little bit more presence than furniture. I'm glad there are many of them. They make life stable and comfortable.

But then there are the men who mean something more. We may or may not know each other, but these are the men I notice. Sometimes I feel that here in the blogosphere, too. There's sometimes just something about the way a fellow writes that intrigues me. I work with some of these kinds of intriguing men, too. I go to church with some of these men. I have some friendships with some of these men. I notice when they're around, and sometimes when they're not. I notice what they wear, and whether they've shaved, and if they seem happy or not, and how they smell and what they say and don't say.

I notice their eyes and their voices. Sometimes when they talk my mind wanders. I sometimes hear the sound of their voices more than I listen to their words. This can be dangerous in the workplace. I might miss something I really do need to know.

There was a time when I thought I don't want to feel this feeling, I don't want this buzz, this attraction. I can't handle it. I don't want it. I want it to go away. I guess that could happen to me again someday, but I'm glad I've gotten used to this something, this quality that is as life affirming as water, food, breath, shelter, warmth or beauty.

And so my thoughts circle back around to shelter, safety, protection. Is that what I feel when I'm sitting alone like the guy in the Steve Walker painting, alone but not all alone, feeling the spirit of those I love and those who love me?

First Kiss

Actually I should title this "First Kisses" because there are several memorable first kisses as I look back on a long and mostly happy life.

1. My first teenage kiss with a girl.
2. The first time my wife-to-be and I kissed.
3. The first time a gay man kissed me.
4. The first time I really wanted to taste the kiss of another man.
5. Other kisses and expressions of affection.

So jumping toward the end of the list, let's focus on #4, the first time I really wanted to taste the kiss of another man.

It was on a mountainside. A straight friend and I were jogging. We both stopped to catch our breath and because we were both breathing heavily and standing close to each other and trying to talk while gasping for air, I inadvertantly captured one of his large exhalations in one of my deep inhalations. It was warm and wonderful. There was no hint of anything artificial. No trace of mouthwash or toothpaste, but nothing unappealing either. That breathing in of his breath was neither sweet nor offensive in any way, but I loved it. It was just his breath: warm, pure and affirming. But it had the power to forever freeze that moment in time. I wanted more of that taste, and I suppose a kiss would have been a natural next step for me if he had not been a straight man. It was probably as close to a kiss as I will ever enjoy with him. And you know what? That's OK. As his friend and as a married man that's as it should be.

And what about #5? These are stories of kisses and hugs between friends and family that are to be savored and held sacred.

Early in April

On April 3, 2009 a balding, somewhat overweight man in his fifties entered a Salt Lake City pastry shop, ordering a Creme Broulee and a glass of water. He took a seat on a bar stool at a table for two on the same wall as the entrance where he could see anyone walking through the front door before they could see him.

A few minutes later a tall, slightly younger man with thick blond hair quickly walked through the front door. The guy with the Creme Broulee wondered, "Is that him?" just as the younger man stopped, turned around and scanned the room. As their eyes met, the man at the table raised his right hand, extending his index finger like handgun and fired off an imaginary shot by lowering his thumb as if squeezing a trigger.

Both men smiled and nodded as if they'd known each other since childhood, but actually it was their first face-to-face meeting. The younger man had been blogging for almost three years and the older man had read every entry. The older man's blog was only a few months old, but the younger man had also read each of the newcomer's entries.

One of them suggested this "late business lunch" and the other reluctantly agreed. They engaged in animated conversation long after consuming their gourmet desserts. The discussion continued as they walked to their respective vehicles. More laughter ensued. They both savored a long hug and then talked even more. Wallets opened. They narrated family photos and exchanged business cards. A second hug lasted longer than the first. This afternoon snack in early April was neither the beginning nor the end of their friendship.

When Your Crush Responds

How long can a crush last? And what happens when you're back in touch with a person you crushed on years ago? I've wondered about these questions because one of my earliest crushes, a friend from high school, and I are back in touch at least via social networking and phone. He now lives several states away. Another friend who I worked with years ago also recently friended me on Facebook. He's relatively nearby, only about four hours by car. After more than a decade in both cases, I'm surprised how strong the connection feels. Anyone else have similar experiences?

Jonathan and David

Alan at Scrum Central has a link to wouldjesusdiscriminate.org. There you will find this article: David loved Jonathan more than women. The author makes the case that the Bible sanctions "an intense love between these two that went well beyond friendship." Read the article and see if you agree.

He loves his damned old rodeo

He rode of out of camp just after sunrise, saying I'll see you this afternoon. Just before 3:00 he kept his promise. I offered him a stale cookie, poured him a cup of water and asked him to sit down. He gulped a couple of swallows, didn't eat the cookie and didn't sit down.

Then he told me that I'm not alone. That we're brothers, that I could just relax and smile. "After all it's Friday. What you gotta worry about?"

We bowed our heads. He didn't feel like praying so I did--thanking God for our families, our friendships, and asking for more good weather before the snow flies.

He took another gulp but left some water behind in the cup. We hugged goodbye, then he grabbed that stale cookie and rode away.

Oasis in the Desert

Desert: Dry, barren, a landscape or region that receives very little precipitation.
Oasis: a fertile tract in a desert where the water table approaches the surface; a haven, a shelter serving as a place of safety or sanctuary.

I'm grateful for both the desert of challenges and the oasis of friendship, family, and loved-ones. I'm grateful that when I was a teenager, a child was conceived in a desert far from my home. He grew to manhood. Served a mission. Fell in love. Married his sweetheart. Together they brought amazing children into this world. And then one blessed day our paths crossed and a friendship grew. It continues to grow. It continues to confound me. It is an oasis in a desert.

Thoughts can kill, but can words heal?

I found myself writing a reply to Beck tonight and thought I'd share it here as well:

I have also felt dead ended at times. Once it was so bad I didn't think I had any option but taking my own life. Fortunately I got help and was eventually able to envision more constructive ways to cope and move forward.

Ezra says you can be in the right spot but not have the results you seek. So true in my experience. I didn't take this photo, but I've shot ones like it. Usually the light is right only for a few moments. You can be in the right spot, but if you're not aware of the moments, you might miss it. However if you capture it vividly in your memory, it's yours forever and nothing can take it away from you. Maybe, Beck, you're in the right spot right now, or you soon will be. I love Sinatra's "love is either in your heart or on its way..." from Young at Heart.

Jay remembers not feeling a sense of belonging for a long time, me too on that one. MoHoHawaii endorses therapy. I can tell you I wouldn't be alive today without it. So on top of these ideas I'll throw in one more: bibliotherapy. It's inexpensive and sometimes quite effective.

Beck I will pray for you. I will ask our Father in Heaven to bless you now and in the hours and days ahead that you might feel His divine love, and our love, your wife's love, your children's love, the love of those you have mentored, and the love you have cast upon the waters these many years. I want to believe that we are also in your prayers, and I do believe our collective and individual prayers are more powerful than we sometimes think.