“Why?” cries the little boy. “Why was I made this way?
Why do I merit scorn in your eyes from myself and the people you’ve created?”
“Do I hate you? Is that your conclusion?
My child, I do not hate my most treasured creation.”
“At school I am mocked, and I must lie to my mother so that I can learn
From older men how to please these urges of my body and theirs.”
“You are forever beloved and always my child.
And those urges you speak of, I created them in holiness.”
“I cannot live my true identity.
My mind is a swirl at times with thoughts of suicide.”
“Your truest identity is in me. And though you go to the deepest of pits,
Still I am there with you.”
“I know no one like me. I live in fear and simply want to be normal
Like the rest of humanity. Oh rid me of these desires!”
“There has never been anyone like me either, and I too have felt great anguish.
To die to self and to trust in Me is to find the freedom you wrestle painfully now for.
You are loved my dear one.”
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