I’m a gay man raised Christian, and I love Christianity—even if I no longer practice often or outwardly.

I stopped going to church around 16, for selfish reasons, as it goes—and the inescapable lure of ‘knowing better’. I was rebelling against my parents, thirsty to discover the world, and just generally a punk.

I enrolled at UCLA, earned a degree in Philosophy, and truly thought I gained an enlightened view of the universe, believing I’d tapped a higher power by reading a few 18th Century essays on Skepticism. I devoured Descartes, Wittgenstein, Camus—all of it.

I openly mocked Christians for their faith with my friends, knowing their pacifism and general kindness made them less scary and easier to confront than other religions. Attacking Jews would ruin my social life, attacking Muslims would end my physical life.

I thought all religion was a dangerously stupid way to suppress free thinkers, oppress social mobility for gays and women, and that it demanded lifetime servitude to a non-existent entity. I would instead read about “sacred geometry” and “Pythagorean orgies” or consult the I Ching between chapters of The Man In The High Castle.

But moments would pop up in College. I would be near broke, drinking wine directly from a two buck chuck bottle wondering where I was heading. I’d rock out on my porch blasting Nina Simone’s Ain’t Got No from a tinny laptop speaker. Between bites of a quarter pound hot dog drenched in cheese from my nearby 7/11 I’d wonder, is this it? Am I just alone and struggling and that’s life?

And I’d look skyward as the stars came out over Westwood and just scan for something spectacular, never admitting the sky was already spectacular, waiting for my roommate to come home with cigarettes and a funny story.

I was proud, but at least I wasn’t stupid! At least I didn’t believe in stupid stuff! I’d saunter off to bed later and stealthily say silent prayers before sleep, as if it was secret from myself. Just a small prayer, nobody would know!

Boy, was I wrong. Like, really wrong…

After spending time in post-adolescence, I realized how lucky I was to have a Christian family, and how the values a Christian upbringing teach translated into self-resilience, faith, and patience. I felt proud of my own labor and work, but ceaselessly thankful for the countless things and small miracles that got me through.

Even when I introduced my boyfriend to my mother and father, they graciously accepted him into their own. They fed him, quizzically asked personal and loving questions, hugged him, laughed with him.

When later we discussed religion and homosexuality, my father frowned deeply, pondered, and stated plainly “I just want what’s best for you” and smiled meekly before adding “And I just don’t think being gay is the best way.” I agreed to disagree, knowing he’d never abandon his views. My family won’t celebrate my being gay, but they permit it. At least I’ll never be victim of an honor killing.

Christianity is unlike other religions. Christ called for his followers to evangelize, yes, but to permit others to falter — knowing that God is in control. To me, God can be synonymous with ‘nature’, ‘science’, or whatever. All he really said was, “I am.”

Gavin McGinnes — founder of Vice Media and a convert from atheism to Catholicism— regularly interchanges ‘God’ in argument with ‘nature’ — an intellectual way of reminding that one could make the same argumentative points with or without a deity running the show, but he also bemoans our culture casually crucifying Christians:

“Why is Christianity the only religion that needs an autopsy every five seconds? Nobody asks the Native American Church about dinosaurs. Nobody needs to know what the Buddhists in Taiwan think about abortion. America was founded on Christianity but instead of reverence we get a To Kill a Mockingbird trial for every page of the Bible.”

Many Liberals seem to attack Christianity with each opportunity. They fail to grasp the beautiful underlying reasons Christianity exists, and muddle history to decry Christians as sociopathic fascists who hate everyone. They ignore that religious Americans dominate charitable giving. They ignore that apolitical groups like Alcoholics Anonymous, which require faith in a ‘higher power’ as one of twelve steps, far surpasses government run detox programs in efficacy.

Christianity is far more than a ‘social control’ mechanism that greedy governments want to replace with their own soulless institutions. Christianity is a mental framework, an Instagram filter that grants the world a lens so beautiful and breathtaking, it demands sharing.

Religious voters have been mocked and defamed since before i was born. I mocked them too, but now I’m beginnign realize what Christians stand for. They gravitate to leaders congruous with their world view, and if someone like Trump says that politicians are a bunch of liars and crooks, Christians naturally agree. The Bible guarantees it. And when Trump speaks about America first, you can bet Deuteronomy 15:7-11 is being read somewhere at some American church’s pulpit. When my Mother saw Cruz’ first ad blanketed in Christian tropes, she called me to say, “He’s a phony, I can just tell, I can feel it in my heart.”

This is a woman who prays for 2 hours every morning. Many Christians have reacted similarly. After all, Trump proudly claimed he “Won the Evangelics” in a 60 Minutes interview — to which Lesley Stahl rolled her eyes before attacking Trump on his divorces.

The attacks are everywhere, relentless, and seem rooted in the confused idea that one can simply shame Christians out of public life. These hateful attacks are blind to 2,000 years of history proving otherwise.

As the alt-right surges in popularity, the left has resorted to vilifying perceived ‘pillars’ of yesteryear America: White folk, Christians, and poor working class men. But the indomitable perseverance of the Christian nuclear family in America is a testament to its strength, not its squalor. The poor are loved by God.

And you know… God is funny. If there is a God, his sense of humor would have us laughing for eternity.

Those hateful people who decried “prayers for Paris” or “prayers for Orlando” would be shocked to learn those prays might have been answered — in the Trump presidency. After all, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and he promised that, as Proverbs 17:22 says, “a cheerful heart is a good medicine.”