Journey Well

A guttural cry bubbled up from my chest—a cry that wanted to stay alive. It was a yell that wondered if it was possible to live with joy and freedom while still experiencing same-sex attractions. Could I live in a hope-filled tension? I didn’t know another human who was doing such a thing. In 2008, I had not read one story of someone like me: a Christian who engaged in same-sex behavior as a Christian, repented of it, but still journeyed with the attractions. (What kind of a weird Christian am I?)

Carolyn’s voice reverberated in my heart: He’s closer than your very breath. “Fine!” What do
I have to lose? I glared upward, instead of right or left, to this metaphorical third option of Jesus
meeting my needs—whatever that meant. “Fine! If You are who You say you are,” I spat. “If You are the real Need-Meeter of my soul, then You had better show up! If You can satisfy more than these women can, then show me how.”

If I measured my faith in the idea that God could satisfy more than a tangible woman, I would guess it would measure 1/100th of a mustard seed.

But it was enough. God’s math is not the same as ours. “He does not punish us for all our sins; he does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve” (Ps. 103:10). He is the prodigal’s Father. We take a half-hearted, ragged step toward Him, and He takes 492. We attempt another, and He runs 799. Meeting this Father is what made me change, not from gay to straight, not from pagan to saved, but from lost to loved—and to become one who experiences love.

I did not want to go on a journey to learn this. I would have preferred to have 10,000 angels descend, wipe away my tears, and tell me I’m the most perfect, humble, and ravishing human person ever. But God knew better. He knew I needed time alongside Him to fall in love with Him.

As you read, you may be sitting here wondering, “How do I do that?” The answer is what you hold in your hands. This is my phone call to you on your pink flip phone. (Perhaps you have upgraded by now?) This is my ongoing telephone conversation with you, where I try my best to share what was helpful in the past, what is currently useful today, and where I provide space to “listen” to you through reflective questions.

Ideally, you would read and answer these questions with a trusted counselor, a Journey Well Group, or a friend. But I get that even holding this book may be scary. That’s okay. You don’t have to share your story today. I do hope that by the time you close the back cover, however, you will feel a confidence to open up even to one person, and especially to Jesus who so desperately loves you—even if you’re secretly shaking your head saying, “No, He doesn’t.”

How you feel about God doesn’t change how He feels about you.

This book has pieces of my journey, but it isn’t about me. In fact, I would feel like a total failure if you read my story and tried to cut-and-paste it to your life. I have made a lot of mistakes. But there are beautiful and breathtaking moments where the gospel (that is: the good news for everyone every day) came alive for me. Those Jesus-focused pieces are the ones I hope you siphon from this story.

The purpose of what we share here is not to “fix” anyone. (What a terrible word: “fix.” Who is “fixed”? Who has perfect sexuality?) For those of you who experience same-sex attractions or identify as LGBT+, orientation change or reparative therapy is not on the table. The only focus of this book is displaying how each of us can equally align our knees at the foot of the cross while our hearts equally receive living water. How God wants to transform us and use our weakness is up to Him.

Most books on sexuality do not consider my type of brokenness. They assume the reader simply
struggles with too much lust for the opposite sex. My type of sexuality is reserved for a certain bookshelf and a certain web search.

But everyone struggles with sexuality, and the Church should be the safe space where we struggle with it together. For these reasons, I am taking my story off of the “special” shelf and moving it into general sexual brokenness. I am normal. Post-Fall-of-man, “normal” sexuality is broken sexuality. This includes my sexuality and yours—no matter how we struggle.

In these pages, I hope to serve as a helpful representative of the Church and of Jesus Christ by walking you through practical ways to connect your brokenness to Jesus, who was broken for you. We will start with the gospel; work through recognizing need, lament, forgiveness, celebration, gratitude, and oneness; and filter it all through the lens of my journey with my girlfriend, my boyfriend, my counselor, and Jesus, who became my joy, my hope, my Need-Meeter—the One who satisfies that aching hole in my heart.

This book seeks to answer the question “how?” How do I live well with broken sexuality . . . in real life? How do I care well for my hole-riddled heart? How is the gospel good news for everybody every day—me included?

I can’t wait to show you.

Are you ready?

Ring ring. (I think that’s your phone ringing.)