Author: Your Spiritual friend (anonymous)
Check out part one here
At some point, I had to get out of the shadows.
I had to realise that living life like all was okay within me was not helping me. Dealing with the feelings of same sex attraction was hard enough and having to constantly face taunts from the enemy and my own broken state that I wasn’t, and never would be, good enough or ‘clean’ enough to live a life worthy of the gospel, made it even more unbearable.
Then arose other concerns. Questions kicked in. How was i going to get clean about this and make my struggle known to someone in a position to help? And boom! Just like that. My fear doubled. In all honesty, I became paralysed with this fear. So many worst-case scenarios filled my head and heart with worries. Would I be ‘excommunicated’ from the Christian Union for having a struggle so ‘sinful’. What would my fellow Christian friends see me as, a sexual deviant? What about those who I was given charge over; would they use my experience as a free pass to carry out their own desires, because, after all, he faces ‘worse’ sins.
So, for a while, the fear crippled me from seeking help, and the vicious cycle started all over again. Indulge my lusts and desires; feel guilty about it; become afraid to tell anyone that I was struggling with same sex attraction; indulge in the desires again to make myself feel less guilty; repeat. A loop that I felt I was too powerless to escape from, helpless to stop and broken beyond repair to be healed from.
At some point, I had to get out of the shadows.
For a wound to heal, it must be cleaned out first, before it can be dressed and bound up. The cleaning out usually is the most painful part as dead tissue must be cut off, usually accompanied by bleeding. I had to delete contacts of people who I would text or call to have nasty chats with. It was difficult having to let go of relationships built around trying to live a secret life, but at the back of my mind, I realised it would be better to call out sin for what it is and escape the coming judgement, than to comfortably tolerate it and pay a heavy price for it eventually.
I went onto my knees and confessed of my sin. From the lowest parts of my spirit, I cried out and asked for pardon based on the sacrifice of Jesus. I knew that no sin was too big or too dark for Him to forgive, so I poured out my heart, said every little thing I had done and asked for forgiveness. I felt much lighter afterwards, peace and rest washing over me like a calm wave.
Next came the part I dreaded most; having to tell someone I could trust what I had been going through. Who could I trust with such a burden, someone who I knew couldn’t use it against me in any situation? After much prayer and deliberation, I approached my pastor, ready for any response from the ends of the spectrum; understanding and a genuine desire to help, or a tirade on how unfit I was to even tell him of such a terrible struggle.
Needless to say, I was very surprised when he told me, “I understand, and I am thankful that God has strengthened you to realise that you need to call it out for what it is; sin. I am here to pray with you, and to help you seek to please God even in this phase.”
It was as if any arsenal the enemy had against me and used to stoke my fear of sharing my struggle was blasted into nothingness. It was a blissful release from the chains that had held me fast for so long. I wondered why I hadn’t done so a long time ago, I wouldn’t have had as much pain and agony to endure.
Even after such a break and relief, the feelings were still there. Being open about them, I later came to realise, wasn’t an instant cure. I still had the same attractions towards men; maybe less intense, but still there regardless. A question popped into my mind, would God still love me and forgive me even as He sees the depths of my heart? Doubt took root; was I truly forgiven?
Was the prayer I made really enough, I would often ask myself. Did God really forgive me, or should I prove my worth being forgiven? Questions that shook my core and foundation, and made me wonder if I had, in a way, sanitised myself with my confession; clean, but could still touch the unclean for a while before I become too stained, then just ask again for forgiveness (sanitiser). “Is this how you would want to live in this new freedom given to you?” I asked myself over and over again.
The more I stepped into the light, and the more I let it shine over the dark places, the more I realised I could never be as perfect or as whole as I would desire to be. I would never attain perfection, freedom from my inherent sinfulness on my own effort. Yes, the homosexual desires were very much present, and I could not deny that. It was a sin, yes, but what sin is not forgivable? What could be so great that God could not forgive?
What if, the more broken we are, the more of God’s light shines through the cracks?
Walking in the light of newness is not as easy as I had thought it would be, but the freedom that comes with it is… wow! Knowing that God still loves me regardless, and that I am forgiven no matter what I had done in the shadows is empowering enough to make me seek Him even more, to try and make Him more glorified and even praised through the struggles I face.