Cobb Joe - Our family outing: a memoir of coming out and coming through

Copyright 2011 by Leigh Anne Taylor and Joe Cobb

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

ISBN: 978-1-937829-26-1

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Leigh Anne Taylor

Joe Cobb

To our first loves and the four who carry on our story

Emma, Taylor, Ginny and JJ

In memory of Thomas Graham Jefferson, Jr., 1953-1973

T o speak and act in loving ways requires, at the deepest level of all, a spirit of gratitude. Our story is easier to share because of the countless sages who have journeyed with us, sharing a bit of their lives as they listened and lived along with us. To all of you who bless our lives with your sharing, thank you.

Telling our story has led us into a season of vulnerability, knowing that by telling the truth of our lives, we are foremost interested in honoring the truth of our interactions with the many who have walked with us. For those who have given us permission to use their names in this story, we are grateful. For those who preferred a different name to honor confidentiality, we have honored this request and are grateful. For all of the congregations we have had the honor of serving or being served by, we have changed some names, and left others with their actual name (based on permission) to honor the integrity of each. We are grateful for your presence in our lives.

Gratitudes (Leigh Anne)

As I read again the story that fills these pages, I am struck by the abundant love and support I have been surrounded with all my life, from so many sources. I am grateful for my husband Hugh, my parents, my guides Maureen Morrison and Susan Marney and all of my colleagues, past and present. I am especially grateful for Joe and the precious gifts of Emma and Taylor that our marriage gave to us and to the world. Through our relationship, I have learned my lifes greatest lessons. I am blessed to have learned these lessons in the context of our extraordinary extended family.

Gratitudes (Joe)

I am grateful for James Matthews, Tom Stephenson, Larry Provo, Mark Smith, Andy Hagler, Chris Glaser, Christian de la Huerta, Chris Garrison-Archer, Natalie Goldberg, all of my writing friends from the Mabel Dodge Luhan House retreats, Metropolitan Community Church of Winston-Salem and Metropolitan Community Church of the Blue Ridge, and all of my colleagues, past and present. I am especially grateful for the continuing presence of Leigh Anne in my life, the gifts of our marriage, and now, the gifts of our deeper intimacy as sacred friends. Emma, Taylor, Ginny and JJyou are my greatest spiritual directors. Thank you.

The space we write in needs to inspire creativity, so I am grateful for CUPS Coffee and Tea in Roanoke, and its proprietor, Michelle Bennett, for creative space, consistent encouragement in the writing process, and endless cups of fabulous coffee. I also want to thank the former Mojo Caf as the place where this project began taking written form.

Together, we are grateful for all who read our earliest book proposal, and a variety of drafts of the manuscript along the way. Special thanks to Cara Ellen Modisett for her extraordinary work as our editor; Julie Pfeiffer, Cathy Hankla, John Anderson, Sharon Rapoport, Stephanie Koehler, Bruce Bryan, Jeanine Stewart, Nick and Mary Lee Warner, Jeanine Hathaway, Miriam Hall, Saundra Goldman, and Boyd Lemon for reading our earliest book proposal and differing versions of our manuscript; and to the many who have helped guide our first venture into publishing.

The pass-off (Leigh Anne)

June 2008

I m going to write our story, I told several trusted friends after listening to a stirring sermon that challenged us to have the courage to do what God was calling us to do. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, waves of doubt and fear came over me. Its too personal, well be too vulnerable, its too hard, I told myself over and over again, trying to talk myself out of it.

A week later, I was reunited with some longtime friends at a conference in North Carolina. One friend told me of the heartbreak of learning her husband was gay. He seemed trapped in silence and sadness. I listened and shared some of our story. She was encouraged to know that she was not alone and relieved to find someone who understood the private agony she was going through. This was the affirmation that I needed to overcome my doubt. If telling the story of how we had come through our trials could help someone, I could take the risk of being vulnerable. I decided to tell Joe the first time I saw him.

The pass-off (Joe)

Late on a hot, June afternoon, I pulled off of Interstate 40 near Charlotte and into the parking lot of a convenience store. Steering past the gas pumps, I parked next to a white SUV.

The cars license tag was a familiar sight, as Leigh Anne, Emma, Taylor and Hugh climbed out of the car and onto the hot pavement. The kids gave quick hugs, asked for money, then disappeared into the store. Hugh paced the perimeter of the parking lot, finishing up a business call. Leigh Anne and I talked by the car.

Leigh Anne, smiling, said, Im ready to write. Me too! I said. Its time, we said in near unison. One by one, Hugh hung up the phone, Emma and Taylor emerged from the store, and each of them joined our conversation. We shared our readiness to tell our familys story and asked for their support. Each, in their way, said, Go for it.

Of all the pass-offs we had made with the children through the years, from early meetings at a hotel in Illinois after a twelve-hour drive, to our usual weekly meeting at Dixie Caverns between Blacksburg and Roanoke after a thirty-minute drive, this pass-off marked our passage into a new season of lifea season of story telling, truth telling, and moving forward.

Now we have passed into the season of sharing. Here is our story.

Queen Anne (Joe)

I am sitting in a Queen Anne chair, talking to my therapist. This is my reality. I am 36 years old. I have a wife and two children whom I love very much and dont want to hurt. Leigh Anne and I have been married for thirteen years. I am one of four pastors at a large, downtown United Methodist church. My wife is the director of music. The worship services are broadcast live every Sunday morning on a major network. Ive been a pastor for more than seventeen years. This is what God called me to, what I trained for, what I have been ordained to. My grandma, parents and brothers family are all members of the church. According to my mom, I am the perfect child.

The therapist asks me if there is something Id like to share. I nestle into Queen Anne. Im struggling with homosexuality. Brace yourself, queen, here it comes.

Im honored that you shared your struggle with me.

So it begins.

There. I said it. Homosexuality. I spoke it out loud then. Now Im saying it in print. All of those awkward moments in church bible studies, at annual meetings debating scriptural authority and whether or not homosexuals should be ordained, thinking that everything I was feeling inside would just, gradually, go away. Better to keep the closet door closed.

I thought a long time about whether or not to open the door. I was more hesitant than Dorothy before she walked out of her black and white house and into a technicolor world. Open the door and everything changes. Open the door and lose myself. Open the door and control flies out. Once I opened the closet door, I could never close it.