If I Weep
Let it be as a man who is longing for his home
Philip let his gaze flicker across his family’s faces. His mom looked worried; his dad was unreadable; Charity was staring into space, clearly bored; Faith met his eyes and smiled, a bit shakily, but supportive. Taking a shaky breath, Philip swallowed hard and forced the words out. “I’m gay.”
There was a moment of deafening silence. Paul’s face went even blanker; Charity blinked and stared at him, her mouth falling open in shock; Faith held his gaze, her smile faded but her eyes showing nothing but support; Julie gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth, her eyes filled with sudden tears.
“How… how did this happen?” Julie’s hands fluttered helplessly, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “This is my fault. I should have breastfed longer, I should have — ”
“No, Mom.” Philip dragged his hands down his face.
“But, why?” Julie’s voice broke and tears slipped from her eyes to trail down her cheeks.
“I don’t know!” Turning sharply away from her heartbroken gaze, Philip closed his eyes. “I never wanted this. I’ve begged and begged God to make me normal, but… this isn’t something you choose.”
“Son,” Paul said, his voice heavy, “you don’t really think you were born like this.”
Bowing his head, Philip ground his teeth together, his nails cutting into his palms. “Do you honestly think I chose this, Dad?” He turned around, forcing himself to meet his father’s disappointed gaze. “All I’ve ever wanted was to make you proud.”
Taking a step toward him, Paul laid a hand on Philip’s shoulder. “God can help you, son. Don’t surrender to this. Cry out to Him and He will lift you up.”
“Dad.” Philip shrugged away, frustration rising up and nearly choking him. “I tried that. So many times. For years, I’ve been praying for Him to fix me.” His voice fell into a hoarse whisper. “Now I realize it’s like asking God to change my hair colour.”
“Philip…” Paul’s fingers clenched on air, then he let his hand fall to his side. “You have to keep fighting. Our Heavenly Father never promised life would be easy, just that He would walk with us and see us through all of our trials and tribulations.”
“Dad, I know that. I’ve been to Sunday school, remember?”
Paul rubbed at his forehead with the fingertips of one hand, his brow furrowed as if in pain. “You have such a bright future. You cannot allow this to destroy your life.” He took a deep breath. “There are places where they can help you. I can make a few calls — ”
“Dad, no.” Sickness coiled in Philip’s gut, and he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. “I don’t need anything like that.”
“You — ” Paul cut himself off, anger sparking in his eyes. “You think God is with you if you continue down this path?”
Raising his chin and squaring his shoulders, Philip met his father’s eyes. “I do.”
Paul’s lip curled in disgust. “You’ve got one year of Bible college and you think you know more than me, is that it? Trust me, son, God doesn’t walk with sinners.”
Philip’s anger rose up to meet his father’s. “Right. He just eats with them and stays at their houses. Oh, no, wait. He does walk with them. Matthew was a tax collector, or did you forget?”
“That’s completely different and you know it,” Paul ground out.
“Yes. Completely different. Prostitution and theft are only little sins. And then, of course, there’s the murderer you’re named after who wrote half the New Testament.”
“That’s enough!” Paul roared. Charity, who had been avidly watching, shrank back into the couch, while Faith lifted a hand as if to reach out toward her brother. Paul took a step toward Philip, his eyes fiery. “If you will not abandon this sin against God, then you are not welcome in this house.”
“Paul!” Julie reached out toward Philip, met her husband’s furious gaze, and let her hand fall. Tears streaked her face.
Ignoring his father, Philip caught his mother in a hug, murmuring into her ear, “I’m sorry, Mom. I never meant to hurt you. None of this is your fault.”
“Philip — ” Her voice broke on a sob and she clutched at him as if she were drowning.
“I’ll call you, Mom. I promise.” He pressed a kiss into her temple, then pulled away. “Charity, I’m sorry. You’re going to have to be the oldest for a while longer.” She shook her head, her eyes wide, but he looked away before she could respond. “Faith, you were always the best of us. I know you’ll be okay.” Throwing herself at him, Faith wrapped her arms around his chest even tighter than Julie had.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Paul’s voice was tightly controlled now, the anger reined in. “None of you are to have any contact with Philip after today until he repents and returns to God. We will not encourage this.” He met Philip’s eyes, and there was no hint of compassion or warmth in their icy blue depths. “And if I see you on the church property, you’d better be ready to repent.”
“Goodbye, Dad.” Philip held his father’s eyes for a few seconds, then turned away.
*
Miles pushed the door open, casting a reassuring smile over his shoulder at Philip. “Stop worrying, Phil. My mom is gonna love you.”
Forcing a smile, Philip nodded back. He was really trying to believe Miles, but it had only been a few hours since the ultimatum that he never go home unless he could fundamentally change his identity. He knew that not all parents were like that, but it didn’t prevent the sick feeling in his stomach as he followed his boyfriend through Miles’ childhood home. What if Miles’ mom didn’t like him?
“Miles!” A dark haired woman with the same beautiful golden skin Miles had burst out of the kitchen and threw her arms around Miles. The resemblance was unmistakable. She hugged her son tightly for a few minutes, then pulled back and caught his head between her hands and kissed him several times on the cheeks and forehead.
Laughing, Miles hugged her back, and kissed her on the forehead, then pulled away and grabbed Philip’s hand, tugging him close. “Mom, this is Philip. My boyfriend.”
Her eyes lit up, she turned away from Miles, and Philip found himself engulfed in the same kind of all-encompassing embrace she had just given her son. He was speechless when she even kissed his face all over just as she had kissed Miles.
When he found his voice, Philip managed to say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Henry.”
“Oh, go on, you.” She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Call me Anne. You must be hungry after your trip. The pizza arrived just before you did.” She turned back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get plates.”
Miles linked his arm into Philip’s. “See?” he murmured, his lips just brushing Philip’s ear and sending shivers through his body. “I told you she would love you.”
Swallowing hard, Philip managed a much more genuine smile than before. “Yeah. I just wish…”
“I know.” Miles slid his hand down and laced his fingers with Philip’s. “I want to say your parents will come around, but… I just hope and pray that they do.”
Philip squeezed Miles’ hand and let out a long breath. “Yeah. I hope so too.”
“Dinner is served!” Anne came out of the kitchen with plates. Her gaze fell on their linked hands, and she smiled. “I hope you like pepperoni, Philip.”
“Thank you… Anne.” Philip accepted a plate from her and ducked his head to hide sudden tears.
“Hey.” Anne put her hand on Philip’s arm and squeezed. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, dear. Don’t worry about anything.”
(Title and subtitle from Rich Mullins’ song “If I Stand”)
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This story is a response to Prism & Pen’s writing prompt The Agony and the Ecstasy.