On Belonging and Mattering to God
I felt like I did not know how to pray for nearly two decades. Oh, I prayed, but my sense was that my prayers were ineffective—like lead balloons—my prayers didn’t even reach the ceiling, let alone G_d, or so I thought.
The very public process of transitioning seemed so drastic and unfair. After all, the struggle with my gender identity was a very private matter. Why was the solution—if, in fact, to transition was the only solution—so damn public?
On top of that, the prospect of rejection loomed large, and it was too scary to consider. I fully expected all of my relationships would end; who would want to be seen as a freak and a deviant? I was pretty hard on myself.
I prayed for God to make me a girl when I was young. That didn’t happen. As I grew older and the reality set in that my body would not be transformed miraculously, I prayed for God to fix my brain; to keep it from replaying the endless loop that caused so much self-loathing and guilt. But God didn’t cooperate. I figured the problem was not with God but with me. Like Paul’s diatribe in Romans, I concluded that sin living in me was the problem.
Since I placed my faith in Christ during the Jesus People days, Jesus’ invitation to come to him with my burdens stirred my heart the most. I wanted to find rest, which literally meant, as I stated above, I wanted to be normal. Over the years, I figured it would only be a matter of time before God snapped his fingers and “poof!” I’d be a regular guy; no more wanting to be a girl. I was memorizing Scripture, reading devotional books, reading about how to pray with power, etc. Yet, nothing.
The persistent, pervasive, and insidious nature of gender dysphoria only intensified my guilt and sense of defeat as a follower of Christ. But one surprising thing I discovered, which literally saved me, was how God allowed worship and praise music to be my connection with him. I played the guitar well enough to help lead worship services in the churches we attended as a family in Vancouver. These churches had one thing in common, they sang the same style of music, and each had enough talented musicians and singers among their respective members. This meant we would rotate and take turns leading and playing on Sunday mornings.
I discovered I could commune with G_d through worship and praise songs. What prayer and crying could not do, worship and praise did; I experienced incredible intimacy with G_d; it transcended my self-loathing and guilt and transported me into G_d’s presence. It provided temporary rest for my weary soul.
The songs I gravitated to were those we sang directly to G_d, expressing our deep love for Him and the yearnings of our hearts. What I call “marches, witness, and cheerleading songs” did nothing for me. Most of the music we learned came from Maranatha Music, Vineyard, and later Hillsong.
These were the days before iTunes when music CDs were the thing. As with all music, unless you know a band or singer well, much of what I bought collected dust on the shelf after listening to the CD once. One or two songs deserved consideration, but there was a lot of bad music with simplistic and trite lyrics. But every once in a while, I struck gold. One such song was The Sheperd Song by Bob Farrell, sung by Kelly Willard in a compilation CD titled Evening Tapestry (1992). When I heard this song, I immediately connected it with Jesus’ tender words about how he is the good shepherd. But the one verse that still fills me with joy every time I think about it is found in John’s Gospel, chapter ten, verse sixteen. It says this:
“I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”
This verse stirs me and fills my heart with gratitude on so many levels. Most powerfully, as someone who felt disqualified for being different and felt like the “other,” it reminds me of the verse above. The Shepherd song has always made me feel like I belong and matter to G_d. Despite struggling with my chaos all those years, this song offered me a pasture where I felt safe and gave me hope.
Shepherd Song — by Bob Farrell
I can’t live without your love
I can’t find my way back home
If I wander far away
you carry me back to the fold
Sing to me, and I will follow
The only voice I know
Safe inside the Shepherd’s care
for you know the way back home
Through your gate, I come and go
For your pasture is all I need...
Comes the time to move along
You gather me to your side
Leading me so carefully
You’re changing me all of the time
Sing to me, and I will follow
The only voice I know
Safe inside the Shepherd’s care
For you know the way back home.
