Doesn't Match the Blueprints- Day 29 (January 29th, 2021)

There are those that live in a world of black and white. Things are either right or wrong. There is no middle, no such thing as gray. And these people are the ones that like to point fingers at things they don't understand. And they are the kind of people that will never look at situations from another point of view.

I think transgenderism, just like any other type of lifestyle tied to the LGBTQ, should be looked at on a case to case basis. No, I don't believe God made me to be a woman. I believe he made me to be a man, but somewhere along the way, early in my development, genetics and ultimately environment, played a big role in the woman I am now embracing. So, I'm not going to claim that my lifestyle is right or godly, but I'm also not going to immediately categorize it as wrong. If it's just wrong, then people born with both genitalia (for example) are immediately in the black. If everything is just cut and dry, God has no desire for them and has already tossed them aside...

Does that sound like God? Does that sound like the Man that came to this earth for the sole purpose of dying a horrible death on the cross? No. That sounds like a God Who understands the gray of life, a God Who knows that every life connects to another's and that maybe even something seen as wrong to many can be used as a tool to lead those looking and lost to the Light.

My transgenderism isn't a choice. When I was still fighting it and was very closed minded, I believed everybody made this decision. Instead, I've found it's more like transgender people are all a house that has already been built, but realize that our final result doesn't match the blueprints. God designed men to be men and women to be women, but the complicated nature of a fallen world has jumbled things. So, instead of matching our blueprints, rooms are in the wrong places and there's a real and heavy feeling that you don't fit. "My room is here but my blueprint calls for it being elsewhere entirely. There's stairs in my house that the blueprint never called for, extra floors in my house that men don't typically have."

The last thing I want to do in this is speak for God. I don't want to tell you one thing if the opposite is true. The truth is this: I'm making this transition trusting God will still love me and that the cross is enough to cover me. I can't say with 100% certainty. All I can do is continue to talk to my Savior through this, trusting that He won't leave me. Because, otherwise, I am already lost. If He doesn't love me in it, I have no hope for my future or my eternal soul. And that scares me. That keeps me up at night.

I still want to be His child. I still want to be seen as precious in His eyes, even though I'm a misfit and a broken vessel and in a category many say will lead me to hell. I still love Him. I still long for Him. My greatest desire is to someday worship at His feet, the complications of this life no longer a thorn in my side, the pain of this life a fading memory, immediately overtaken by His fullness.

Don't let me go, God...