Is There Space for Me in Heaven?

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me…

As the words of God infiltrated my ears, they began to slither into my veins and approach my heart. The light of judgement began to ignite my body. As the holiness of the words prepped to take a bite out of my ideals, my brain decided to step in and defend itself. This battle within me would have to ensue for two more hours before I could get what I came for: a free bible.

Sitting down with Mormons is not how I planned to spend my Thursday evening. I intended to go to Justin’s house for some quick studying, and then head out. However, I cannot resist the temptation of the words “free.” The knowledge of the bible was a pathway for me to improve my literary use and better understand classic literature. Instead of leaving to fetch dinner, I sat at Justin’s dining room table ready to remain stagnant during the conversation.

Yet, when the “brothers” began to speak, their preachings bombarded me with tones of incitement.

“Do you believe in God? Do you accept his good being and holiness?”

Prior to this time, I had little motivation to believe in God. However, hearing it from the faithful themselves, their words had a certain weight to them.

I began to feel a tingle within that felt otherworldly. It was as if God himself was coming into me, attempting to convert me as a believer of his almightiness. My mind felt woozy, and an intense headache came over the front of my forehead. My mouth began to open at the same rate my eyes began to force shut; creating a dam for the tears that hastily formed.

My vision was black, and I choked out the one question that was eating at my insides.

“Why believe in God if I’m never going to be able to go to heaven?”

The two looked astonished. I could tell by their quick exchanges that they have never been questioned something like that before, let alone with such vehemence in its sound.

“Well, anyone can go to heaven!” they attempted to reassure me.

However, I knew deep down that these words were not true. The light of God does not have a path for someone like myself. No matter the good deeds I do — Saint Peter will never call my name. The gates of heaven are a dream for me, and will never be anything more.

I couldn’t stand to look at the two anymore. I didn’t because I feared a excruciatingly harsh judgement of my sexuality. Instead of revealing my truest colors, I decided it would be best to mask myself by feigning an immersion in their methods of redemption.

When the session finished, I clutched their bible to my chest. Pressed against my beating heart, it’s a reminder that the way I was born was what I’m meant to be. I cannot change the fact that some people will never accept me for who I am, or that I’ll never be able to fit in with certain groups.

But if I’m losing a piece of me… maybe I don’t want heaven.