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.