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.