And thank you to so many others that expressed
encouragement, advice, insight, and/or

There is, to me, a very deep part of
transsexualism (or severe GID) that is "just me
and Jesus".  In that sense, M., you are quite
right that there is loneliness.  

I mean, it would be great if all my acquaintances
understood the tapestry of my heart and how
this thing called GID has rewoven and recolored
so many threads.  

But really, I barely can comprehend the
completeness of the changes to my small
tapestry, and only Jesus fully knows every
thread and the pattern it creates, not just in me,
but in His Painting of mankind.  His view is
beyond mine.  He is the perfect Artist.

In a way, we that live with severe GID also get
to live out the Book of Job.  Our friends come
with simplistic answers, but God answers about
His sovereignty and about the depths of creation
-- from the stars of Orion to the stork in the

Funny, but when I realized that I could barely
perceive me and my internal interactions, but
that God perceived how my GID would affect
the universe, I repented in "dust and ashes" as
did Job.  I repented not of sin-of-choice, but of
my sin-of-demanding upon the Father of Lights.

God is the Master Artist of the Universe, and I
am a small piece of paint that He will expend to
achieve His Painting.  

I am expendable, and that is good, for I was
bought at a price, and therefore my Owner can
do with me what He wishes.  For I have come to
trust the Master Artist, and if He chooses to
recolor this piece of paint with hues of
ever-deepening GID, I trust it will be for His
glory.  Even if I cannot comprehend the
reasoning of the Artist, I will trust Him that
painted Orion's belt and that taught the stork to

One day, I will see Jesus.  And I plan to kiss His
feet, and wipe them with my hair.  Maybe after
a hundred years of just loving Him, then I will
ask Him to show me His Painting, and maybe, if I
am very brave, I will ask Him to show my small
part in that Painting.

Jesus, I think, will show me the soft marks of
women that He painted with hues of cancer, and
dots of color for sudden death of teens in car
accidents; He may show me those small dashes
of paint that are children that died in wars, and
jagged marks of red and white for evil men that
repented late in life.

And then, He will show me - just Caryn - a
complex of colors so very small in a Painting so
very large.  

And then, I think that I will turn to Him and say,
"Did it really please you... to color me with GID...
to expend me... and to place me there, in your
painting?  Please... tell me the truth.  I want to
know... really...."

I imagine that He will answer, "Child, I was
pleased to create a Painting that would draw all
men to myself.  Please trust that I painted every
stroke in love."

He painted every stroke in love....  GID given in
love, so that the Painting would draw all men to

Yes, I am surrounded by a support network of
my wife, my children, several friends, and all the
family of TG-C.  In that sense, I am not in

But sometimes, I alone feel that touch of the
Master's brush.  Perhaps no one else feels that
touch of that particular brush at that moment as
I do, for GID is terribly personal within the heart
of the individual.  

While the affect of GID is a group experience,
the movement of GID - its increasing or
decreasing burden, its recoloring and reweaving
of gender identity - is experienced by the
individual that carries the GID within.  

Hence, my tears, for I sometimes forget that
every stroke of the brush that touches me, is
given in perfect love for a Painting that will draw
all men to Him.

I am expendable... but He painted every stroke
in love....

Every stroke in love....


Much love in Christ;


(c) Copyright Caryn LeMur 2006
The Collection of Short Works,
Letters, and Poems
He Painted Every Stroke In Love
The "Sound Of The Lock Turning"
caused many responses from my
friends on  

One gentleman, M., was
concerned for me.  He wondered
if I was lonely or in isolation.

Now, to be certain, every
response deserved a thank you
and a response... but it was M.'s
choice of words that touched me.

And a writer must learn to feel
that special touch that is the Spirit
saying, "That is the one... yes,
respond to him."

And so, I wrote back to the entire
group, because of the concern of
one man, and the Spirit's touch.


He Painted Every
Stroke In Love

Thank you M., for your post.
In Deepest Sympathy -
Poetry for those that grieve
Building Faith, Hope, & Love -
Stories and Writings
A Cup Of Cold Water -
Letters For The Thirsty
A Pause In The Forest -
Poetry for thoughtful moments