The Last Straw

School was finally over. I successfully got through the next month and a half with the most fake smile I’d ever composed. I had to decide what to do: Would I have to transfer schools?  Or would I get caught in this relationship? For the little bit of school left I had been in this, yet again, secret relationship, and thought that I would find happiness. There was still somehow a concerning confusion about my life that I convinced myself I couldn't figure out, and I knew why. I had to clean up this mess. I had to create a clean slate for my strung-out lifestyle.

After the semester, I ended my relationship. It wasn’t working for me and I knew that I had made a terrible mistake. The fact that I couldn’t go back and fix the situation made it even worse, but it was too late now. All I could do was remove the influences in my life that were temptations and distractions from getting back on the right track. So, I distanced myself from specific friendships and completely ended my relationship with this guy.

As much as I tried to break my addiction to the app that summer, I never succeeded. I would go a few days with a fresh breath of air, but then dive back into the stagnant state I was suffering from in the app. It was exhausting. I went through profile after profile looking for something, someone that could fulfill my emptiness. But nothing.

My brother and I were about to leave for our trip with our grandparents during the middle of the break. I hadn’t heard from the girl whose heart I so gruesomely trampled since the end of the semester. We had kind of patched things up, but there was nowhere near the closure or healing that was really needed. One night she was so heavily on my mind and I wasn’t sure why. I typed up at least four different messages to her, just apologizing for my actions and wishing her well on her trip for the summer. But before I could send it, all of the sudden she texted me. 

I was in awe. 

When I read her words, tears filled my eyes. After all that I had done, she messaged me and apologized. I immediately called her and explained how shocked and taken aback that I was. We both had relieved and lighter hearts, and I was thankful for her forgiveness and commitment to obey the Lord in such a horrifying situation.

Despite the work going on in her heart, I still spiraled downward. All summer long I fought my conviction so that I could be numb. It stilled the pain in my heart, blanketed the depression I had, and masked the anger I had built up inside toward myself and so many other friendships.

Midway through our trip that summer, I began to read a book given to me by a close friend, a book that was about the Holy Spirit. For years the book was in my possession but I never even touched it. All of a sudden, however, I decided finally to pick it up and ruffle through its pages. Little did I know it would completely flip my life upside down. I truly began to experience the Spirit in such a new and liberating way. I realized how trapped I was; how exhausted and miserable my life had become. I needed liberation. I began to surrender every single area, one by one, practicing trusting the Spirit and praying to Him for movement. He so graciously lifted me from my dark and disastrous pit, leading me in the way of righteousness. Despite how often the memories I had would attack my mind and attempt to drag me back, I trusted more than I ever had.

School was nearly days away, and I was nervous. I was afraid. I was aching. Satan began to torment my mind with so many memories, information, and much curiosity. Despite not having the app, I still had availability to fulfilling my flesh. I saw a boy who I recognized, and I jumped to action with my wit. We got to know each other, and I fought. I fought so hard to keep away. But I didn't succeed. I was finally enticed and blinded by my own desires. 

After a few days of having slept together, I knew something was wrong. I began to weep. 

Why.

This. This was the lowest I had ever felt. I never thought I would mess up this bad . . . but here it was. Luckily I had a friend to whom I could confess and with whom I could seek help. I had to return to college the very next day, with this bottomless pit defining my very being. I was broken. 

Never have I ever sought such forgiveness, experienced such devastation, cried so desperately for help, been so embarrassed, or hid a part of myself so hard. This was a new experience that made me taste the world in an uglier, more real way. And it was the worst taste I'd ever had. 

Days after school started and having heard the confirmation that I did, indeed, test positive for an STD, I received the grateful news that it was curable. A sigh of relief burst through my body and I was again filled with flowing tears. 

***

This was the last straw. It took an STD to wake me up from the playful game I was in for years. The decision was made that I would never go near my flesh again. I surrendered it, wholly, to the Father, and He continued to show me His unhindered, gracious, merciful, eternal love, once again. 

Exposed

Our 'now' is not always God's 'now'.
How funny it is that God's timeline is often so extremely different from our own!

Personally, I find it hard to trust God's timing and know that He is guiding me according to His goodness. How perplexing it is, though, that I find myself arguing with His ways! He is the only constant that we have as believers, and we need and have to earnestly seek our only guidance and direction every single day from our perfect Father.

God's timing was perfect. He had been preparing my heart to share honestly with the girl whom I admired, and little did I know that He was as well so carefully shaping her heart to receive such information. I am so thankful for His timing.

During the Christmas break after our sudden encounter on the last day of the semester, our relationship rekindled. This time, however, there was a different purity about it. Because I knew that I had to be honest and transparent with her in order to have a healthy relationship, I eagerly approached the Father and prayed earnestly for a direction in this conversation. It needed to take place, but I still had fear. I feared that she would not be understanding, caring, approachable, or even forgiving of the matter. I remember the exact location of our conversation -- about four rows up on the brand new football bleachers. We sat, individually in our own seat, knowing that an intimate and absolutely needed heart-to-heart was about to transpire. As I began to share my story with her -- the discovery and fear of my struggle as a young boy, the relationship I indulged in, the renewing of my mind and discovery of the beautiful blessing it is to trust God with such a sharp thorn -- her eyes softened and her heart graciously opened.

My mind was blown.

Through the sharing of my personal testimony and what seemed like a little redemption in my life, she was ecstatic and so full of grace for the opportunity to even hear such a story. I couldn't understand it, honestly. I knew this would drive her away, I just knew it. . . But it didn't. It opened up a completely different layer for our relationship.

Honesty.
Transparency.
Vulnerability.
Trust.
Grace.

I was one lucky guy to have such a wonderful and mature woman of Christ completely trust her Father with such a confusing and dim-lit situation. All I had were my words, and she trusted the Holy Spirit's leading in such a way that made my words hold such a higher value. Our relationship lavishly blossomed and we intimately shared our hearts with one another, even the ugly parts. I was at my happiest and knew that this was something good.

. . . 

I pushed away my one hidden problem that allowed me to not be completely honest in our relationship. After all, it was a freshly stitched gash that I couldn't bring myself to elaborate on. I did tell her everything, but stopped once I got to a particular point in my story. College. There was a nauseating punch in my stomach when I thought about telling her the components of my very recently conquered addiction to the app and what it had exposed in me to partake. I knew eventually that I would tell her, but something that had happened only a couple of months before this, there just wasn't a way I could do it. I had to carefully plan when I could explain such a tender, exposing, and frankly embarrassing segment of my life. Until then, I hid it away and waited cautiously for the right time. But waiting only made it harder to flee, easier to covet, and allowed freedom for my sin to grow dangerously without hesitation.

I needed something. I knew exactly what it was, and my skin so avidly longed for it. It was just at a touch of a button, simply at the tips of my fingers, easily accessible, waiting for my eyes to lock into its stare and engage in its game. It was eagerly knocking on my door and I let it in, giving it permission to pull even tighter around my wounded soul, suffocating my being and making me beg for a way to get whatever it urged me toward. I wanted that guy on the other side; I wanted to be secretive; I wanted what I couldn't openly have. Still, after all that time of change and redemption, I begged for a way to find it again. And this time, I'd be smart. This time I wouldn't tell anyone. This time I was in a relationship so no one had a reason to think otherwise. This time, it would work.

It had barely been a month. A month. 
I gave in.
I broke.
I lied.
I cheated.
I reverted.
I gave up.
A month. 

Every single day I was on the app. Every night before I went to bed. Every morning when I woke up. Every time I had a space to myself where no one could see my screen, I was on the app. It was my acceptance, my engine, the fluid that ran through my veins. It drove me every day. I would use it all that I could, then delete it when my relationship became reality. Quickly afterward, when I was safely alone, the app would come back and invite me in for whatever I possibly could have missed.

Eventually my heart grew numb. It became the norm for me to dedicate a little bit of my time to my relationship, then lather myself in the toxic conversions offered within the app. I pushed back any aspect of it all that made me feel bad about my actions and allowed myself to focus on my own needs. 

I disgustingly trudged through the swampy mess of my life while pretending I was floating above the clouds with the birds. What an ugly sight it was to anyone who could see the truth.

I went home for Spring Break expecting to spend every waking moment I had available on the app. I had found a consistent conversation, one that always picked up wherever it left off before, that went on for weeks. With my time spent at home the opportunities were endless. I met someone through the app who was very similar to me, and we decided to exchange contact information so that we could get rid of the app. It was hard for me, but I liked this guy and knew that deleting the app would result in something somewhat good, maybe. By the end of the week, I decided my relationship -- if I could call it that -- had to end. I knew that ultimately what I was doing was not fair to her, whether I wanted to admit it or not, and I had to get out before anything went any further. It seemed only right. So I made up a reason to break up (we had been having problems of course because of my inconsistency in our relationship), and I was free. Free to live the way I wanted to without regards or rules, limits, or lines that I couldn't cross. I was successful. I was the king of secrets, getting what I wanted while still having the best of both worlds. No one knew besides he and I, and who we trusted. It was easy. 

. . .

How could I have done this? How could I turn my back on all the progress I had been making, on someone who trusted me and opened her heart to mend with mine? What a disgusting thought: I threw away something worth more than anything mankind could create just for my own selfish, fleshly, personal desires. When I observe my decisions now, I know exactly why I gave in, broke, lied, cheated, reverted, and gave up. I had eventually started finding my redemption in myself. What a vicious and desperate road I travelled. The consequences of my actions are still apparent to this very day, and I can only let God use those results to further His kingdom no matter how difficult or hurtful it may seem. I cannot run away from the fact that I allowed myself to indulge in such secretive and rebellious activity while trying to pursue such a relationship on the opposite spectrum. I cannot take back the tears I caused to stream down her face and the faces of so many others when my actions were so horrifyingly exposed. I cannot replace the hurt, pain, or anger she had toward me with love, grace, and mercy. I cannot fix anything.

But my Father can. And He has done so beautifully. He used others who were aware of the situation that was enticing me and gave them an action, one that was beyond difficult for them. They had to break my trust in order to follow the Holy Spirit's instruction; they had to tell her the truth about my behavior; they had to make a decision to please me, or please the Father.

I am exceptionally thankful and grateful that they chose the Father. 

A Diamond in the Rough

Ah, summertime. The freshness of summer finally brought forth a cool breeze of relaxation, peace, and rest. Although my endeavors for the time being weren't quite physically restful (I was working at a kids camp that required most of my time during the day, leaving us extremely exhausted by the time we were off the clock), the Lord drew me to rest in Him daily and seek His face most abundantly. I honestly couldn't believe it was just a matter of months before that I had completely lost my way, turning my life toward a slippery slope that almost wrecked my being. But as it was, my Father placed beautiful people in my life to help direct my path back toward His gorgeous radiance. 

I was app free. 

Even more importantly, I was learning biblical truth about my thorn, how God was using it to strengthen my relationship with Him and with others, and how to rest in the Spirit whenever temptation would strike. 

The Father truly was lathering me in His grace, and I count it such a blessing.

I remember having several discussions in my beautifully redeemed friendships and with my father in the Spirit, many of which resulted in my sharing about the direction I was being led and how God was going to use my testimony somehow, someway. I just knew it. 

Then, something miraculous happened. An occurrence I would and still to this day consider a reward. Perhaps a reward from the loving Father for seeking and trusting my obedience in Him, or a reward simply to "try out," if you will, my newfound redemption. Whatever the reason, I was ecstatic. 

Backtracking just a little bit, I had previously met a girl, one I would consider absolutely beautiful, inside and out. She glowed with radiant light displaying the Holy Spirit and the joy that only He could fore-gleam. We met right at the end of the semester, so I didn't quite have time to really get to know her. However, opportunities arose during the summer time that unreservedly could not be ignored. I had to talk with her more. I was drawn to her. 

Finally, toward the end of the summer, we spent time together. I visited her often, and easily the time would fly by far too quickly, leaving us with unanswered questions that we both knew were being pondered on each end. Is there something here? Is this in my head or does she feel this too? But even more importantly, Father, what about my struggle? I don't want to mess this up. . . 

By the time the fall semester had started we were definitely in some sort of a relationship. Unofficial (because we hated labels), but a relationship more or less. It was refreshing and rejuvenating, but I think we both had an uneasy feeling about entering school and what the talk would be. Being at a small Christian University, talk travels quickly, so we wanted to be full-on prepared for questions and rumors that were already being stirred about us.

Our relationship flourished. Although it was new and very different from what I had been used to, we sought the Lord and His direction in our lives together. I hadn't told her yet about my struggle or my past, but she seemed to somehow know that there was something I was keeping from her, and she waited patiently for me to be open and transparent with her whenever the time came. In a matter of months, however, I started encountering great amounts of stress from the sophomore slump into which I was sinking. School was tough, time consuming, and restless. I had such a difficult time balancing my relationship with her, school work, practice, my job, and my friends all on the same scale. I couldn't handle it, and it led to an ending of our relationship with hopes of something in the future. And I knew, because we were both so similar, that when we agreed to hope for something in the future, we genuinely meant it. Though we created a bountiful amount of space between us, I trusted that our paths wouldn't diverge for good.

In the meantime, I enwrapped myself in the drama of my friendships. The consequences of my fleshly desire just months before resulted in such a fragile heart that was easily bruised and tossed all over. I was deeply battling with my struggle and continued to seek guidance from my voice teacher, but for some reason I couldn't shake the pain it had caused. I was longing for love and affection and knew that it wasn't the same love and affection I would receive from my just ended relationship. The urge for what I had once known quickly spread through my veins, and I found myself indulging in the same actions I had previously fought so hard to leave. Nevertheless, I slowly lifted my rattling knees and hobbled forward with Christ the best I could; yet, I constantly placed my value in what the app supplied instead of what my Savior said.

The battle was bloody. Often I tried to justify my actions due to the fact that I was no longer in a "relationship" and I wasn't really doing anyone else any harm, but even I knew that idea was pure absurdity. And in all honestly, my activity was doing harm -- quite a lot, to tell the truth. And I had no idea the destruction it was fabricating.

Though the months were few, I fought hard with the cycling addiction that reentered my life and took over every aspect that it could. I vividly remembered the exact emotion and devastation I had encountered before from my mistakes, but for some reason I was afraid of true confession, true vulnerability; not just talking about my struggles but actually confronting them and casting them on the Lord to take from me. The idea seemed barbaric and reverberated my past, and I believed that others and God were tired of hearing about my cycle again. So I foolishly kept it in and fought alone.

Now, bear with me as I say that by Christmastime, I was ready. There was one specific day that is so vividly engraved in my mind, and I'm not sure if my imagination enriched the picture that my physical eyes watched or if it was truly this unbelievable, but what I encountered was far from ordinary. The most easily made decision I had made in a long time was on this very day. It was exactly on the day that we were to move out of the dorms and back to our far off homes for the holidays that I saw the beauty radiating from her again. Amidst all the trouble I had caused in her life that semester, the ripping of my heart from hers, the games I had nonchalantly played while away from her, there was still a glimmering shimmer of joy that smoothly bounced off her face. I knew in that moment that I had to pursue her again. It was inevitable. 

A Chat Worth Having

Sammy, my dear son,

Several issues arose in my corner of the world between my response to your post "Vulnerable" and the most recent "A New Beginning" entry you published a week ago today. Chief among them was the earth-shattering news of my dear sister losing her life to triple negative breast cancer, a beast that ravaged her otherwise healthy body in her prime, mind you.

I miss her so terribly.

Devastated and heart-broken, I wished myself forward and onward to no avail. You came to mind often but it has taken me quite a while to whisk myself up from the valley of my tear-drenched bed to your spirit-lifting blog.

Seeing you at church this morning triggered something in me.
I climbed up the familiar hill in yet another pilgrimage to your blog.
As you can now see, my flowing pen readily testifies that I am glad I did.

In many ways, my current grief turns my heart into fertile soil for the reception of God's Word. Joy and gratitude erupt from my heart today as I read therein, " . . . I will bring health and healing . . . I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security . . . I will cleanse them from all the sin they have committed against me and will forgive all their sins of rebellion against me" (Jer 33:6, 8).

Peace.
Health.
Healing.
Security.
Cleansing.
Forgiveness.

What amazing promises from the Lord!
What needed truths for the ears of the Israelites!

Sammy, the above were not only intended for the contemporaries of Jeremiah; they are equally promised to me, to you, to all Christ-followers from the very lips of the Father who delights in bestowing gifts upon gifts to His children who are in desperate need.

And the Lord knows that we are needy.

Indeed, your post revealed to me with utmost clarity that you felt needy. You erroneously sought to meet your need through an app and quickly became addicted to that technological tool. In your words, the app "drew [you] in . . . enticed [your] hungry heart to play its secret game of life . . . [you] breathed it."

Next, your entry explained how this addiction came about. You became exposed to it through a few acquaintances who had downloaded it on their iPhones. You were intrigued by it despite the check in your spirit warning you from the get-go that it was corrupt. Nonetheless, peer pressure led the way and you found yourself not only trying it in the company of "friends" but also much more overtly in the confines of your private, personal space -- never mind that it grew increasingly more dangerous and ensnaring.

Your confession further revealed that you tasted the nectar of that app. That unfortunate sip intoxicated you enough to fool you into thinking that the app within your grasp was powerful enough to grant you your innermost desires -- finding a guy who is gay/bi/same-sex attracted with whom you can discuss your feelings, a man who can understand your need, an attractive male who could relate to you, a good-looking hunk who could fulfill you.

You are not alone, my son.

The Lord knows that you are needy.
He knows that I am needy, too.

You are no longer partaking in such an endeavor. I have never had such an app within my reach. However, you and I both have a strong desire in our hearts to seek fulfillment and satisfaction in all kinds of unfruitful places. Truth be told, all human beings are prone to wander from the Vine who alone can provide the only fruit that stills, heals, secures, cleanses, satisfies, fulfills, and forgives.

Let us walk together as we surrender all these yearnings and longings to the Lord. He is the only app worth our hearts. Only He possesses the beauty worth our adoration. Only His Word can provide the fulfilling chat conversation that can nourish our minds.

Be blessed, my son!

A New Beginning

Technology.  This tool has increased our knowledgeability and access to any bit of information in the world. Having it right at the touch of our fingertips, it is astounding to see how readily capable we are of researching anything that draws our interest!

My biggest temptation became technology. It allowed me to search whatever my wounded heart desired. I contemplated sharing my most secretive temptation in fear of rejection, disgust, the memories of my pain and brokenness, and so many other reasons that justified my doing so. Fighting to be disobedient has only exposed my innermost turmoil and brought me to share openly the battle I faced for what seemed like years during the spring semester of my freshman year of college and further. 

An app. 

My biggest temptation was an app. I became addicted to it. It drew me in and enticed my hungry heart to play its secret game of life. I breathed it. 

Now, most of you have no idea what I am talking about. I was not simply addicted to a game. It is not educational. It is not social media. It is not a game of logic. 

I became exposed to this app through a few acquaintances who had it on their iPhones. It intrigued me, but I knew from the very first sight of it that it was corrupt. Events led me to download the app out of humor for others. We wanted to see what it was all about, but that quickly drew me in even further. How could I have this and keep it a secret? I easily deleted it and tossed it from my mind, not realizing that it had already become a seed waiting to sprout at any moment. A few days later, my fertile imagination began to stir. I sat alone in my dorm room starving to feed my curiosity.

I had to download it again.
I needed to use it alone.
So I did. 

I created a profile and left my face out of the picture. 

I used valid information about myself, but kept it vague just to be careful. 

Then I tested it out. I began messaging other people -- guys -- just to have idle conversation and get to know them. It was intoxicating. I felt secretive and rebellious again, and was uneasy with the thought. This app allows guys to converse with other guys who are gay/bi/same-sex attracted. Maybe even meet up if they wanted. I knew I wouldn't go that far, but I wanted someone to understand. Someone to talk to about my feelings who could really relate to me. 

Grievously, my partaking in this endeavor allowed Satan to use this app as a toy to try and ruin my faith, to rupture the new heart God was creating in me, and to addict my being to the every day temptation it provided. Although I confessed this deeply hidden addiction to my voice teacher and accountable friends, I continued this addiction for over a year. Months of fresh air cleansed my being that following summer,  but quickly I found myself wandering in the darkness and downloading it again, then deleting it, then re-downloading, then deleting. I still had the thorn that pressed within my exposed and torn heart. It never left, but instead opened up a brand new world for my desire. A secretive world that no one else could stumble upon. Or so I thought . . .

***

Wrapping up my freshman year of college was difficult. Difficult because I severed relationships, broke hearts, left my comfort zone, and began a new path. I felt like I was leaving a brand new person. One who had trusted true vulnerability, encountered intense struggle and hurt, confusion, brokenness, redemption, forgiveness, and grace. I was leaving a new creation. I was confident in the Lord and His work in me. Though I knew not what was to come, I knew that I was still in my Father's Hand and He held me dear to His heart. I began to seek consistent time with my Father and hand over whatever temptation came my way. Difficult, indeed, but truly rewarding. I felt clean, but more importantly, I was confident in my cleanness. I knew that I would still struggle every single day. I knew that the excruciating pain of my tender past would constantly be a reminder of my brokenness, which resulted in my continuing cycle of battling my newfound enticement. But I furthermore learned that it reminded me of my need for a Savior. It reminded me of what Christ endured on the Cross for me and my sin. It reminded me of God's agape love and how I am to love others. Though there is so much more to my story, at this time in my life, all I needed was a reminder that the gospel was real and I was being used by the Lord to lead others to Him. And He provided just that. 

Weaknesses

Sammy, my dear son,

You will never fully know how grateful I am that you entered my life when you did. Our heavenly Father continues to grant me bucketfuls and boatloads of blessings through you, your heart, and your story. May you always rest assured in the hollow of His hand and comforted by His heart!

Your Vulnerable post caused me to walk down memory lane.

I remember when you came to audition for us -- a turning point, to say the least!
I remember your first lesson with me; you seemed so very eager to learn and assimilate.
I remember spotting the unmistakable radiance and sunshine that emanated from your eyes.
I remember how easily you managed to befriend so many different people in a matter of weeks.

I also remember distinctly the day when you and I hit a wall in the studio, when the rapid vocal progress came to a halt, when it became ultra clear to me that something was amiss. The buoyancy I had come to associate with you was nowhere to be found and, try as I may, my technical directives to you did absolutely nothing for your voice that day.

I just knew we were dealing with something other than technique.

I stopped looking at you with my physical eyes and prayed that God would open my spiritual eyes. I knew I needed the Father's insight to wade in the water of your troubled heart. All of a sudden, it dawned on me you were hiding something, carrying a load that was decidedly too heavy to bear.

I, thus, looked at you -- really looked into your eyes.

That must be the moment you referred to in your post as "the most heart-wrenching look." Forever etched in my memory, that look revealed to me a young man who was hurting deeply but one who was too afraid to let others know. Shivers ran up and down my spine as I perceived your paralyzing fear yet herculean effort to live in secrecy.

What sort of world do we live in that makes us so afraid of being genuine and open about our wounds and cares? What kind of self-righteous conceit rules the affairs of humanity so much that anyone of us would steer clear from transparency? 

I remember weeping on the inside as I gradually understood your predicament -- you sought to protect yourself because whatever it was that troubled your soul could subject you to harsh criticism or vile rejection.

I knew then I just had to invite you to use the only weapon that can combat fear.

Vulnerability.

Of course, vulnerability conjures up images of weakness. However, the same apostle Paul you quoted in your post also said that God's power is made perfect in weakness. He further asserted, " . . . I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor 12:9-10, NIV).

Paul chose vulnerability.

You were right. I didn't know what was brewing in your heart on that day but I knew there was something. I am glad you "returned to the office . . . broke down in tears . . . freely confessed . . . cried, laughed, got angry . . . and became vulnerable." 

Listening to you that afternoon rekindled in me a passion for Christ and for His bride. It re-adjusted my heart and ear to realize a whole world is dying for someone, anyone to take time and listen. For you, it was same-sex attraction; for others, it could be all kinds of other matters. All I know is this: God used you to heighten my sensitivity to hear anything others might be dying to share with me. Thank you for embracing vulnerability!

And as far as agape is concerned, I thank the Lord that love is the sum of the whole law. You and I are invited to love God and neighbor wholeheartedly. Yet how difficult it is for us to understand how it works in our daily interactions and transactions! In fact, it is to love that people on either side of the homosexual question appeal when tempers flare and fists tighten. 

From one side of the aisle, one asks, "How can men and women who profess to know Christ choose to pursue romance in same-sex relationships?"

From the other side of the aisle, another probes, "How can a good and loving God say it is wrong of me to act upon desires that are so decidedly intrinsic to my physical and emotional makeup?"

No wonder you "didn't keep this inner wrestling to [yourself]." And as you prayed and shared, you understandably faced some pretty unsettling pushback. So many friendships have been ended and so many bonds have been severed over this issue. So many people disagree and argue; so many lives have been extinguished; so many children and teens have been bullied; so many signs and banners and insults and weapons have been brandished because of this divide. 

Yet in spite of it all, you gradually came to your current understanding that acting out your homosexual feelings are against the dictates of Scripture. Though you "did not want to deny [yourself] the savor of a man-to-man romance, you came to face what [you] believe truth is, according to God's Word; [you] could not find any Scriptural support of God celebrating or even condoning same-sex romance."

Can we pause and see how incredible that is? 

Against so many odds, you have been empowered to believe, not primarily based on your feelings or emotions or human reasons, but on the Word of God inscribed on your heart by the Holy Spirit Himself. You have made the decision to put all your emotional, physical, and rational eggs into one basket -- the authoritative, inerrant, and inspired Word of God. 

And I could not be more grateful you came to this place un-coerced.

Sammy, my gratitude notwithstanding, I must warn you many will tell you that you are wrong. You may be receiving messages to that effect as we speak and many more will come in the future. But would that be the first time an individual would be wrong? No. "To err is human," as the saying goes. If you are wrong, the worst thing I see for you is that you might spend your life without any romantic relationship with another guy. However, if you are right about homosexual relationships being against the dictates of Scripture, you would have spared yourself the hardening of heart that occurs through spiritual disobedience and the eternal separation from a most gracious and intimate Father (1 Cor 6:9-10). 

It is not my place to tell you what to believe, dear son. 
I leave that in the extremely capable hands of the Holy Spirit.

Still, I do know your road of faith and freedom will continue to be peppered with tests and thorns, my dear son. Persevere to the end -- not on your own strength but relying on the power of Christ's blood. May your vulnerability lead the feet of other strugglers and sufferers to the Great Healer who sees us as wounded lambs He holds in His embrace. Know that He hears our cries for help and healing, and bids us trust Him with our sufferings, aches, sores, and heartaches. He alone teaches us through our weaknesses to lean on His perfect strength.

Vulnerable

It was finally here. College.

My college journey began with a dual reality -- I was really excited to attend my school yet also dreaded to hear its official stance on sexual orientation. OBU academics and campus activities drew me to like the school more and more. But, having tasted the nectar of a gay relationship, I lived every day with the fear that soon someone, anyone, from OBU would begin telling me that homosexuality was wrong.

It was just awkward.
I simply didn't want to be found out.
I didn't want to hear anyone ever talk about it.

So, I put on my happy Christian face and faked the best first three months of my college career.

By mid-semester, things were getting rough. There was constant inner turmoil regarding how I should or shouldn't outwardly express my same-sex attraction and it was beginning to wear me down. It jostled my mind and heart so much that others began noticing I was encountering some kind of hardship.

One day during a private lesson, my voice teacher stopped me mid-song and gave me the most heart-wrenching look. With his eyes penetrating the innermost recesses of my heart, I heard him say, "Sammy, I can teach you all the technique available to me in this world that could help you become an amazing singer." Then he paused and said something that changed my perspective forever: "But until you stop hiding from yourself and become vulnerable, you will never really be able to sing." 

Tears filled my eyes. I did everything that I could to keep them from dropping but they flowed freely down my cheeks. My teacher had no idea what was really going on in my life; yet, he couldn't help but be obedient to the Spirit and share those words with me. The lesson continued and ended without my saying anything really but I knew I needed to re-visit the topic.

I returned to his office at the end of his teaching day, broke down again in tears, and freely confessed all of my heart. I cried, laughed, got angry; I became vulnerable. For two hours straight, he listened and responded not with accusation or condemnation but with grace and truth. It was rejuvenating.

He then pointed out one thing to me: love. We looked at the bible and discussed what agape love truly was--the Father offering His Son as a perfect sacrifice to bring all repentant sinners to a place of perfect intimacy with His Holy Spirit. We further saw how Christ called us to agape love Him, the church, others, and ourselves in return. Then he said to me, "Now, based on this agape love and setting aside your preferences and/or preconceived notions, would you humbly examine how your own partaking in homosexual activity expresses love to God, the church, yourself, and anyone for whom your feverish heart yearns? And vice versa?"

His gentle probing had an unforgettable effect on my heart, mind, and body. It was like I had left my body and watched myself from above for the first time; I began seeing my life with a new set of eyes. I found it hard to answer his question in a way that would similarly celebrate the two forces seeking to guide my heart.

I didn't keep this inner wrestling to myself. I shared it with a few others who disagreed with what I had gradually come to believe. Try as they may, they could not understand why acting out my homosexual feelings might be against the dictates of Scripture. To be fair, I too was devastated; I did not want to deny myself the savor of a man-to-man romance. Still, I came to face what I believe truth is, according to God's Word; I could not find any Scriptural support of God celebrating or even condoning same-sex romance.

All the same, my voice teacher became a godly mentor for me. He taught me how, according to Scripture, my homosexual struggle was not a curse; it was a gift. It was a way of knowing that I am broken and in need of a Savior. Although we never really know what exactly it is, the apostle Paul talks about the "thorn in his flesh." He is thankful for this thorn and what it does for his relationship with the Lord.

I prayed to take Paul's approach.
This wasn't easy, but no one ever said Christianity was.

Sure enough, ample opportunities arose to test my resolve.
Secrecy.
Lies.
Porn.
Doubt.
Hurt.
Compromise.
Loneliness.
Shame.
Failed accountability.
Over and over, one after another, my thorn kept introducing new scenarios and new tests on my road of faith and freedom . . . until one day, one of my dear friends shared that I had been on his heart heavily without knowing why. I jokingly thanked him, but he wanted to discuss it further. We met later that night and he shared his testimony with me. I was truly thankful for him and the friendship we had together, but there was no way he knew about this part of my life and I wasn't sure I was going to tell him.

I shared my testimony as well . . . minus the gay part. The next day, he told me he wanted to hang out again. He began to share with me that there was more to his story, and he then proceeded to tell me about his childhood, the awful encounter he had, and how he too was same-sex attracted. He wasn't sure why he was telling me this because he hadn't told many people at all, but the Lord urged him to confess it to me. I was moved. I then told him about my own inner turmoil, the growing sense of guilt over myriad decisions connected to my homosexuality, and the heavy toll all of it was taking on me. He said he had never been more broken over someone's testimony before, never felt so connected before. He was sincerely broken for me, and we prayed for hours that night.

The power of God was clearly displayed through prayer and testimony.

As my freshman year pressed on, the Lord saw fit to provide me with several people (like this friend and my voice teacher), ones with whom I prayed and sought guidance from the Lord for my situation. The Father continued to make clear to me that this "thorn in my flesh," like all other earthly enticements, would bring constant temptation that I am called to flee. And of course, this running or fleeing was quite costly--wounded pride, broken hearts, lost battles, estranged friends, and the like. Nonetheless, these high-ticket items increasingly reminded me of the blemishes and wounds my Savior endured on the Cross so that one such as I might learn to agape love God, the church, others, and myself as Christ loves His bride.