Who Can You Protect?

No one disagreed that I was probably the worst vocalist in our high school church youth choir. I had been told I was a bass, so I was always on the back row, which was fine with me. The choir director would sometimes know something was amiss and he'd say "Let me just hear the bass row on this part," and he'd cup his ear and lean towards our row to find out who was off key. At that point, I'd completely stifle the vocal chords and just mouth the words in silent unison, to remain undiscovered. I mainly enjoyed the camaraderie and the summer mission trips where we'd go to exotic places like South Texas and sing our musicals in hot grocery store parking lots hoping not to get run over.

This was during my period of awakening. I was discovering my voice as a young writer in high school, which was, thankfully, a little clearer than my voice in the choir. I was also trying to discover myself. I was having my first doubts about my sexuality, right in the middle of hearing the first teachings about it in church, though that was pretty scant. I was faced with my first teases and temptations from older guys who worked where I did and about whom rumors were spread. I was trying very hard to foster relationships with girls and attending the homecoming dances and proms and enjoying it, but I knew things were amiss with me because of the thoughts in my head which would not go away no matter how much I beat myself up about it. Surveying the possibilities for disclosure and the potential responses, I pretty much did the choir thing. I clammed up when anyone came near to trying to find out what was wrong in the row in which I stood. I mouthed the words in silent unison: "I'm fine." I was an expert from childhood at stifling feelings, so why stop?

In fact, I "I'm fine'd it" all the way through college and right into marriage, fatherhood, a career, church leadership and resisted pretty much every attempt on anyone's part to pry that four-letter word away from my lips. Most people who are "fine" are walking a very fine line.

One of the parking-lot songs of my high-school vocal career still haunts me. The simple lyrics from a musical called Natural High never faded from my memory like most of the others. The song spoke about a girl in a youth group who just slowly moves into the wrong lifestyle while others watch and wonder and go about their lives, knowing something's amiss, but just knowing and wondering and worrying, but not really intervening.

We're all very worried about Jenny

She was such an active person in our church

But she's been running around with the toughest kids at school

And the scuttlebutt has it she's been ex-per-i-men-ting with drugs.

Simple words designed to motivate young people to care about each other. But sometimes simple words stick with you.

Words like: "Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you." -- Ephesians 4:32.

Or: "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." -- Galatians 6:2.

Or: "You have sinned against the Lord, and be sure your sin will find you out." -- Numbers 32:23.

And: "Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming." Colossians 3:5,6.

The Bible is really not that hard to understand on most points that govern our daily lives; how we are to live and live with each other.

We're not supposed to sin and when we do, there is no way to keep that from God or others.

We are supposed to forgive each other and do so tenderly, as Christ did.

We're supposed to carry each other's burdens.

And we cannot justify the sins that we carry and hang onto, whether they're habitual, deep-rooted, the result of abuse or being led astray. We own those sins and we have to take responsibility for them. What's "mine" I can give to Christ by laying it at the Cross, realizing in both sorrow and joy that He paid the price.

Now, back to Jenny.

The closing line of the woeful song? "We don't worry about Jenny anymore." The group goes on, as does life and Jenny spins on into memory. Someone who may or may not make it to the 25-year reunion.

In just yesterday's news I heard of a high school coach suspended and charged with having an inappropriate relationship with a young girl, a former youth pastor arrested for alleged sexual misconduct with young people, a grandmother confronting reporters asking why her 15-year-old granddaughter was dancing in a strip club and a story about a lady pastor who was horribly murdered in her small church. Such sadness in one day . . . and these were just the stories that were picked up by the TV satellite.

I guess I'm just wondering this morning if we are working hard enough to protect each other, to bear each other's burdens, to forgive each other so we can model the tenderheartedness of Christ in a world that has grown to be very hard and harsh and cold.

I truly do accept responsibility for my sins and the responsibility to work out my own repentance . . . but I can't help but wonder what might have been had there been a little more protection around a little boy who found skewed security in the arms of a pedophile. Or if maybe when I shared in college that I was feeling really bad about having messed around with a friend . . . that a counselor had said more than that it was just a part of growing up and I would grow out of it. Believe me, we never talked about it again.

I wonder if sometimes we don't put a little too much effort into protecting ourselves from the sinners around us instead of protecting them from themselves and the pits into which they are lunging. It's not really that hard to see where some of the people around us are headed. Some of the burdens would be a lot lighter if we helped carry them sooner.

Our sins will find us out, that's true. I am a testament to that Biblical truth. But maybe we could help each other a little more to avoid some of those sins in the first place and then the consequences would not be so great, the regrets for some of us not so heavy, the messes not quite so hard to clean-up.

Come to think of it, maybe those of us who have experienced the devastation of habitual sin may bear an even greater responsibility to watch out for and guide others away who approach the precipice.

Maybe when we cup our ears and listen for what we think is someone a little out of tune, we need to lean in a little closer, linger a little longer and wait for a sound. Keep your eyes peeled and your ears open. You may save a family . . . or prevent a teenage pole dancer . . . or help someone choose an entirely different journey.

Who can you protect?

Thom

Don't Forget to Leave the Light On

Do you ever get almost overwhelmed by all the needs around you? This blog focuses on just one deep hurt -- the destruction that unwanted same-sex attraction wreaks on the stubborn soul that wants to reject it but clings to it for the identity it provides and the fear that losing that identity brings -- but that's just one hurt. And even the people who carry that one often have others to juggle with it. There are a lot of people and a lot of pain.

Some of the pain is physical -- accidents and illnesses. Some is self-inflicted -- addictions and denials that lead to habits of destruction. Some is just borne by proximity -- heaped on someone by someone else whose pain has reached the point of boiling over. We mix the pain as best we can with whatever joy we can find, what pleasure we can afford, what understanding we have of peace, like dropping items in a blender. Sometimes the end result is a healthy concoction that goes down smoothly and strengthens. Sometimes even the blender chokes on the rough ingredients.

In addition to the occasional posted comment, I receive e-mails from fellow strugglers and struggler-supporters who read these posts. Most are like postcards from a journey, sharing insight from some stop along the way. Occasionally, one arrives from a roadblock, as did an e-mail in response to last week's warning not to get stuck in "The Waiting Place:"

"You need to stop the madness dude. You don't have the answers. You are too stubborn to see it. You cannot see the sky for the blue. GO AWAY. I do not need any of your advice. I have a brain. I am not STUPID!!!!! Understand you DO NOT HAVE THE ANSWERS. Stop telling people you do. After 40 years neither do I. Now that is waiting. MY FINAL NOTE."

This fellow struggler -- having one of those days in which the devil delights to see us buried to the point of suffocation in guilt and hopelessness -- is expressing what I myself have expressed before when it came to people trying to be there for me. People with answers. People with a key to some secret door that opened onto a hidden path somewhere calling to me from beyond a wall obscured by fog. "Can't you see?" It's like when someone holds up one of those purposely skewed pictures with hidden images in it and they can see them but you can't. "What's wrong with me that my eyes can't see?" soon turns into "take your stupid picture somewhere else and leave me alone."

This disconnect -- the fact that people who want to help are turned away from those crying out for help -- is something we really need to rewire if we're ever going to get anywhere. It would be a phenomenon -- rejecting help -- if it were not so common. But in this area -- unwanted same-sex attraction -- where the past, present and future are so intertwined in what is often a spur-of-the-moment reaction to a fleeting temptation, the tendency is to just go it alone. Stare it down. Or give in. Hide. Bear the guilt. Rebuild for the next assault and hope to do better next time. It's a cycle of solitude for most strugglers, partly because they understand the exhaustion and the wear-down and have wagered in their mind the unlikelihood that anyone can walk the distance with them.

When we fall, we cry out, but the responses are so varied. Some hear and cross to the other side of the road; others stop and scold, some weep, and then some come with answers . . . good answers bound in reason, love and rooted in the Word of God. If the wiring is working, the heart opens and receives and healing takes place and the struggle can be eased somewhat and the fog clears a bit and the gate becomes more visible. But sometimes the wires are tangled or cut.

We already had the problem of too few people wanting to help people free themselves. Add to that the fact that there are plenty of people -- the "give-it-up and go-gay-group" -- who say the people who want to be free -- the strugglers -- actually already are free and just don't realize it. They tell you to take a deep breath, dive in to a new life and deny what your Christian identity is telling you. Note to the friend who wrote the e-mail above: They DO NOT HAVE THE ANSWERS.

I remember a point in my life when I told myself I needed no one. I made an inner vow after my father had left me and a man had abused me. Our family moved frequently, making it too difficult to kindle lasting friendships. I vowed I would be just fine on my own. I would be self-sufficient. When I became a Christian, I opened the door to allow God in. Surely that would be enough to make it.

Certainly God is all we "need." Truly He is the air we breathe. He is the salvation of our souls. He is everything. He is our guide. He is our source of joy. He is the physician and He heals us. He is the source of grace and forgiveness and mercy. These things are true.

But that doesn't mean that you are nothing. And that I am but a speck. God gave us each other. Relationships were His idea. He created two people in the garden so they could have relationships with Him and each other. And He told us in one of His first commandments to be fruitful and multiply. Not so we could make life harder on each other, but so that we could help each other through. Life is not all one big garden anymore.

Despite my personal vow to need no one, people kept wiggling in. A teacher who was determined to convince me I could be a very good writer if I would just believe. A college Bible professor who convinced me to apply for a missions position which sent me from a little town in Texas to the heart of Bangladesh. A stepfather who, despite the loss of several fingers on his hand, taught me to make a firm handshake. A mother whose love defines unconditional. A wife who never gives up and always lifts up. A counselor who believes that this journey I am on is just that: a journey, mapped, with an end point. How dare these people violate my vow and care about me. And there have been others . . . and probably many I have shut out. And there are those who have shut themselves out. Why is it all so complicated?

"See to it brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness." -- Hebrews 3:12-13.

You see, God knows we need each other. We're "brothers." We're to encourage. Daily. He knows that sin deceives us and hardens us and turns us against each other and we make vows about how we don't need each other or want each other or trust each other or love each other or care about each other . . . or have any answers for each other. That's hardness.

My friend who e-mailed above may be right that I don't have the answers. But I know who does. God. And he tells me to love and to care and to encourage. That's like turning three lights on in a dark hallway. It can be a long hallway and if it is too dark, someone might turn back.

I watched a Sy Rogers video last night and was reminded that God can free me from the power of a history I cannot change. I want to share that word with my friend who has struggled for 40 years. You can't change the history . . . but God can free you from its power. He can stop the madness. Follow the light.

God Bless,

Thom

Watch out for "The Waiting Place"

"You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You're on your own. And you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go." -- Dr. Seuss

Well . . . now that's a comforting thought. After all, I've done so well so far.

Most people who accept their same-sex attraction condition and finally make a binding personal decision on what to do about it endure a considerable struggle marked with ups and downs, periods of confusion and times of denial. Overcoming, for most, is like moving a mountain one rock at a time . . . up a wet incline against the wind. The stones keep rolling back down and blocking the path, plus you have to re-gather the ones you drop along the way. It's harder than you thought it would be when you made the personal commitment . . . and there are plenty of people watching the clumsy efforts, some of them pointing at the rocks and saying "I told you so," others wishing they knew how to help. A few toss some extra stones in here and there for good measure. The brave hearted stand in beside you and discover for themselves how massive the mountain is.

Most strugglers have gone through times when they decided perhaps they would just accept "it" and make the best of it . . . then through times of self-rejection and self-loathing . . . and times of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth . . . and times of projecting self-manufactured sunshine to cover all the signs of darkness, almost fooling even themselves. Even those who come to a crossroads and choose to go the way of cultural comfort and embrace homosexuality come to that crossroad with mangled feet via a bumpy and treacherous route.

If the road truly diverges in the wood, the road less traveled these days is the one of resistance, of denying self and determining to do what it takes to resist the temptations of same-sex attraction. This marathon is along a difficult road. Few rest stops and roadside cheering squads dot the way; few hands thrust out with glasses of cool water. It's a lonely road. Some trusted confidantes and believers can handle the love it takes to walk the distance. Still, the ignorance with which most of society approaches the same-sex attraction issue -- and unfortunately many churches are in step with society on this one -- makes it hard to find those who believe beyond the wink and the nod that you can really make it. Or even that you truly want to. After all, if you really wanted to, you already would have. Right?

So . . . who for sure believes you can? And who walks the treacherous road . . . the less-traveled road . . . the diverged road . . . the narrow road? Who knows for sure you can make it knows how you can do it? Just Jesus. Christ alone.

I wonder why so often I find myself thinking I am walking alone, or feeling angry because someone I thought would walk a little further or a little harder or run a little interference, or extend maybe just a little more grace one more time, is not there for me? I wonder how many times I have heard the words that Jesus is always there, always cares, never leaves . . . loves enduringly. He knows all and sees all. And yet, I find myself wanting a physically-punchable person to tell me it will all be okay?

It might be reasonable to say there have been periods when I struggled to resist freedom rather than to find it.

With apologies to Dr. Seuss, who has great philosophy when it comes to Thoraxes and Biffer-Bom Birds and all the answers for The Cat in the Hat, his advice is not working for me:

My brains, my feet, my choices? Me being on my own with my own knowledge, making my own decisions about where to go? I may as well have been one of Dr. Seuss' Drumm-tummied Smumms.

It is in Christ alone that any of us who struggle with this or any other self-dominating sin can find the strength, the hope, the rest, the grace, the courage, the wisdom, the forgiveness, the mercy, the peace . . . the outstretched hand with the cool glass of water . . . to complete this marathon. In Christ alone.

We can do this, you and I, in Christ. But only if we yield the brains, the feet and choices.

"You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.

Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.

A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!

Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?

How much can you lose? How much can you win?

"You can get so confused that you'll start in to race

Down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace

And grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,

Headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place . . . for people just waiting." -- Dr. Seuss

How many years did I spend in the waiting place? Waiting for the kids to get a little bigger? Waiting for life to get a little less stressed? Waiting for career pressures to slow down? Waiting for someone to come along with just the right answers to all the questions? Waiting. In the meantime, kid grew, life took on the stress of my struggle, the career spun through its decades like all careers. The questions remained. And I sat in the waiting place, which becomes a wasting place if we're not careful, because others move on, unaware they're leaving us behind because we keep our secret struggle in that locked room, the waiting place.

Unmarked streets, dark windows, personal injuries, uncertainties and confusions? Racing at a break-neck pace towards a useless place? A waiting place? Been there. How about you? Maybe we even passed each other but, in our predictable denial, proceeded without notice.

Maybe it's time to slow down, quit worrying so much about whether the crowd is cheering or jeering and focus on the finish line. Slow the pace, avoid the wiggled roads and the weirdish wild spaces and look for that proclaimed narrow gate. That is the finish line. Maybe it is time to quit asking "why" so many times to people who cannot answer but can only theorize. Maybe we need to be more consistent and turn instead to the only one who knows. Christ alone.

Not Christ the condemner; Christ the redeemer.

"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." -- Matthew 7:13

That broad road is filled with the stones that fell off my mountain. I'm yearning for the narrow road. Who waits at the gate? Jesus. Christ alone.

God Bless,

Thom

No One Wins a Shame-Blame Contest

"Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?" -- Luke 15:4

It's always frustrating when something unfortunate happens and we can't pin the blame. A couple of years ago, I was crossing a fast-icing bridge in falling sleet over the interstate when a van in front of me, surprised by the sudden slickness, applied its brakes and swerved out of control. I applied mine to miss hitting him, slid across the median and crashed head on into a car coming from the opposite direction. In a slow-motion ballet, all brakes applied, we then each slid into the guard rails and came slowly to a stop. No injuries, but thousands of dollars in damage. No one to blame.

I remember when I was in elementary school a friend of mine was wrestling with his older brother and something went wrong, a too-vigorous choke hold or something and James, the younger boy, died. His brother was devastated and their mother nearly lost her mind. There was no one to blame.

Of course, many times when things go wrong, someone or something is to blame. Bad policies doom economies. Abusers twist lives. Rivers rise and homes are washed away. Drivers drink and kill. Dogs bite and bees sting. We stay in the sun too long and feel the pain. We eat too much and grow too fat. We speed and pay the fine. We gamble and lose. We ignore the signs and head into danger. We hurt the ones we love and lose them. Personal responsibility. And yes, some legitimate finger-pointing. Establishing responsibility can lead to an orderly process of resolution. Shouting blame often leads to destruction, particularly in relationships.

I've spent a lot of time -- way too much -- trying to figure out why I at some point in life developed an unwanted same-sex attraction which I would struggle against for decades to the detriment of many. Whose fault was it? Who did what when and why to make me wonder and wander? Surely there was someone to blame. Yes, I was sexually abused and yes, my father did leave us when we were children. I guess I could "blame" those two events as having impacted my development of unwanted same-sex attraction. But who can say for sure that those events alone caused it? If so, what about the person who develops an unwanted same-sex attraction and has neither of those issues in his or her life . . . and thus, "no one to blame?"

Placing blame in this particular issue is like putting a big hard rock in the middle of the road to forgiveness. It gives you something difficult to pry out on your way to healing. If it's there, pry it out and move on. It might offer some insight for therapy and help you determine the tools you need to right yourself, but placing the blame alone won't free you. You won't defeat anything inside yourself by blaming someone outside.

If blame offers no consolation, then what of shame? Shame certainly does have its place as a motivator, and therefore can be a temporary positive. But the meaning behind motivation is movement. If you stay "in shame," then you might as well give up on the idea of moving out of the dark shadows of your unwanted same-sex attraction, because your shame will feed your blame and the spin cycle will keep you from ever spying a potential exit . . . or even a yield sign.

Shame, when not dealt with, makes you feel worthless. It constantly points you back to the identity you want to move away from . . . that old identity that was lustful and sinful and dark . . . and unwanted. And when shame drives you back into that identity, you will blame yourself.

Sometimes we drive ourselves into the shame-blame cycle . . . and sometimes we have willing chauffeurs, those who have been affected by our failings in the past and are so jaded now that they are more comfortable to see us in the cycle than to deal with the possibility of how another fall might affect them. So, even small victories on our part go unheralded. When this happens, it is important that we afford them the grace we want for ourselves, put our hands in our pockets and not expend our limited energy into placing blame. It's not their fault.

God understands.

"We all, like sheep, have gone astray,

each of us has turned to his own way;

and the Lord has laid on Him

the iniquity of us all." -- Isaiah 53:6

"Iniquity" means "wickedness." "Us all" means "you and me."

Just as God can deal with the sin of the lustful temptation of same-sex attraction and all of the other sins that afflict us as humans in a fallen world, he can deal with our shame and our blame, and our natural tendency to pour both on ourselves and each other.

God provides a cycle to replace the blame-shame cycle in which we find ourselves and others.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." -- II Corinthians 1:3-5.

Comfort. Something about that word just feels really nice after so much talk of blame and shame. Try it on. Walk around in it. Share it.

God Bless,

Thom

A Church Without Closets

One of my favorite songs by Casting Crowns is called Does Anybody Hear Her? The song chronicles in just a few short lyrics the story of a young woman "headed a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction." Sadly, as time passes, she struggles to find her way out of whatever is pulling her down; she searches for "a hero to ride in and save the day," but her heart just grows colder and she puts herself through one misadventure after another.

I've been there. Not searching for a hero to save the day, but certainly searching and slipping into one misadventure after another. And I've found myself in a period when my heart indeed grew very cold and my soul was swamped in indifference. And, as the song says, I would find myself "another two years older and three more steps behind."

But the real emphasis in the song is the question: "Does anybody hear her?" Out there, as the song says, "in the shadow of our steeple," are thousands and thousands of men and women -- some single, some married, crying out for affection and attention, a listening heart and a welcoming hand. More often than not, they end up finding that in the shadows, out of desperation. I've been there also.

God is beginning to move in the church. Some churches are working very positively and powerfully to help married men and women who struggle with same-sex attraction to move out of the shadow of shame and into the light of Christian love and support. To move out from under the crushing weight of condemnation onto the supporting pillar of compassion. To stand.

Stonegate Fellowship Church in Midland, Texas of all places has taken a very bold and very Christian approach to the problem of same-sex attraction: love and support. They recognize that Christian couples face this issue and have done so for many years in silence and with fear of discovery. Stonegate is bringing light to the problem and Christ's love and healing to the couples by recognizing that it is a sin to be dealt with, just as any other sin in the church. Brother helping brother. Sister helping sister. Church helping church.

Stonegate's heartfelt video explains in very simple terms the calling church members heard and to which they responded. Members of the church who do not struggle with the temptation of same-sex attraction looked within and saw their own sins and realized the sins of the strugglers come from the same root and seek the same solution. I hope you'll take just a few minutes to click on the link and look at the video, pray for Stonegate's ministry and consider how you or your church could be more responsive to those among you who suffer with same-sex attraction. If you think there are no couples in your church who have that problem, then you are either mistaken . . . or you've already frightened them all away. If you are one of those Christians who struggles, I hope knowing about Stonegate will lift your heart and give you hope.

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The reality of same-sex attraction -- even in Christian homes and families -- will not go away just because we don't want to acknowledge it. If that were the case -- if it could simply be wished away or ignored out of existence -- we as individuals who have lived with it would have banished it long ago. It can be loved away. If Christians will reach out to the "lost and lonely people searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me."

The song ends with these words:

If judgement looms under every steeple,

If lofty glances from lofty people

Can't see past her scarlet letter . . .

Certainly not every steeple.

Stonegate and other relevant, bold and Christ-empowered churches are proving that judgement does not loom under every steeple.

Our churches are filled with individuals who know how to love in response to Christ's call. Sometimes they just need permission to be bold. To be bold enough to know they can love the same-sex struggler and do so without compromising the biblical standard of morality. Bold enough to look beyond the individual's sin and see his or her need. Bold enough to be truthful about the sin and in the same comforting breath reflect Christ's love and grace and help the struggler move toward redemption and restoration rather than out the door and back into the shadows.

The culture in which we live will not be hesitant to tell the struggler that he cannot change, that he is forever trapped. The church needs to drop its hesitancy and embrace the issue as boldly as does culture; we have truth on our side. We have the unchanging Word of God to put up against the flightiness of culture and the flawed studies of faulty groups. We have the everlasting promise of grace and redemption as opposed to the spinning cycle of feeling-good and feeling-guilty. We can offer certainty in place of confusion. And it can all be done with no compromise.

One other thing it cannot be done with: judgement. We have to put down the stones, lower our noses, reach out our hands, hold back a few words here and there and look beyond a person's past, understand his present, pray for his future and walk into it with him. With him . . . or her. They're part of our flock.

"Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?" -- Luke 15:4

We won't have to go far to find the same-sex struggler "sheep." They may be in the closets of your churches. They're hoping someone will notice and see them as Christ does and help them come out into the light and change. We can help them leave the lifestyle behind them.

God bless,

Thom

Lord, Lead us not into confusion

My first real same-sex relationship was pretty surreal. We were the best of friends and the worst of enemies and major competitors in the area of denial. We blamed each other and we blamed ourselves and then we blamed our parents and every kid who ever looked cross-eyed at us on the playground when we were growing up. And we blamed the dawning of a permissive society and the blindness of the church. And we blamed our religious counselors for winking and nodding and telling us everything would be okay, that it was probably just experimentation. We were confused; that's what it was.

We could go from " what we're doing is okay" to "we're going to be struck by lightning," in 20 minutes. We could move from "God made me this way," to "God hates me this way," with a glance in the mirror. We could pour our hearts out over dinner and stab each other in the back before nightfall.

Our relationship was confused and incredibly cruel. The fingers we pointed at each other in judgement tore holes through what had been a genuine Christian relationship and left it tattered. We drowned each other in guilt; we tempted and refused and intentionally frustrated each other so we could out-repent each other and seek piousness. We put each other into a dizzying spin cycle of repentance and refusal of any of each other's needs that left us dried out and colorless. And then, we parted ways, no longer friends, never "lovers," unable to be brothers. Two Christians, unable to justify, forgive, accept who we were at the time or even come close to finding who we were supposed to be . . . and by golly, no one was going to help. We were harder on ourselves and each other than society at the time would ever have been able to be because we bore our inner and outer warfare in relative silence and revealed our wounds only to each other.

It's a wonder we survived each other at all. And it's no wonder that in the decades since we have so lost touch we don't know if the other is even alive. We are left only with the assumptions of where we might be now based on the misjudgements we heaped on each other to try to make some sense of the unwanted path we were leading each other down. When we finally reached the point of believing we were each the fuel for the other's destruction, we turned away for good . . . and maybe did each other no good in the process.

I truly loved him as a brother in the beginning; temptation destroyed it. We were so confused as Christians involved in what seemed then -- and still seems now -- to be the centerpiece of the bouquet of condemnation: homosexuality. I pray he survived and found peace and has forgiven the affliction of my friendship.

Okay . . . that was a lot of drama.


I only thought back on it today because of the declaration by the American Psychological Association that mental health professionals should not tell gay clients they can become straight through therapy or other treatments. How about a little confusion with your confused sexual identity? Christians who struggle with the temptation to act out sexually with someone of the same gender have often been hesitant to do what Christians should do when they have a sexual problem: ask their pastors or church leaders and friends for help. That was already scary and confusing because sometimes they're just told they must not be Christians to begin with, so they need to come to Christ and then tackle the homosexual sin problem. Now they're being told to forget about faith as a reparative option altogether, at least from APA's perspective.


Often, "gay Christians" know themselves that the only thing holding them together is their pursuit of Christlikeness and the redeeming grace of Christ's forgiveness when they fall and the power of the Spirit to continue in pursuit of freedom. It's very confusing for someone to try to question all of that because of sin . . . the very reason Christ came and saved us all. The APA is muddying the waters, suggesting gay people, including Christians, consider a couple of options instead of healing: either becoming celibate or switching churches to one that is more accepting.

Granted, a number of Christians have determined that the most acceptable way for them to deal with their Christ-centered decision to give up acting out as homosexuals is to embrace a celibate life. This is obviously a personal decision, a call of God, and the right one for some. Imagine however the confusion the APA is foisting on those men and women who lived formerly as homosexuals, overcame their unwanted same-sex attraction, married a person of the opposite sex and are happily raising families. And what of those whose very soul tells them that God's plan for them is to not act out homosexually? Just change churches?


On the positive side, at least the APA is acknowledging that faith is an issue among many gay people. Those people's faith will be a much greater guide than the APA.


Speaking more clearly and lending support to the effort to clear the confusion and provide some clarity to the faith-based struggler is Marv Knox, an editorialist in The Baptist Standard.


"I'm not a geneticist or a biologist, so I don't know if someone is 'born homosexual,'" said Knox. "I do know many homosexuals who swear they did not choose their orientation and never would choose to feel this way. Still, a direct reading of Scripture says sexual relations are designed by God to be enjoyed between one woman and one man exclusively within the binds of marriage. While I empathize with the pain and grief of homosexual friends, I believe the Bible says their option is to remain celibate. I do not belittle their suffering, because the sex drive is one of the most powerful forces on earth, but I also cannot ignore what seems to me the plain teaching of Scripture. Likewise, I do not feel their same-sex yearnings alone comprise sin. Humans are responsible for actions, not feelings. So, we must differentiate between homosexuality and homosexual activity."


No doubt both the APA and Mark Knox will hear plenty of disagreement and the confusion will continue. However, it is a positive thing that the conversation is in the open and even if the camps are far apart, the recognition that homosexual temptation and Christianity are not exclusive of each other is important. This is a change.


What does not change is the unerring and perfect Word of God and the love of Christ. Those of us who seek to be free of the sin of acting out on our temptations can rest assured that God sees through all the clutter, straight to our hearts. He is never confused.


God Bless,

Thom

I've fallen . . . but I CAN get back up!

"The fruit of our sins may be different, but the roots are the same." -- The Way Out, (The Southern Baptist Task Force on Ministry to Homosexuals)

Anyone who has struggled with a sexual sin -- or any addictive sin -- has scars that tell the story of the struggle. These can be mental, emotional, even physical. They may be fresh or they may be faded. Some are light brushes; others are deep impact. The fresh ones still hurt; the faded ones may not, but the memories of them still can produce a great deal of pain . . . and the impact on others may continue well beyond the point of the scar's fading.

One of the biggest fears for anyone who struggles with a sexual sin -- and especially Christians -- is the the fear that when things are going well, it won't last. Big or small failures that follow periods of great determination can be multiplied in their impact and feel like great defeat. Most strugglers who are serious about overcoming their weakness for temptation know about recovery programs, self-help books, seminars and conferences. Most have accountability partners to help them. Still, we live in a fallen world and Satan exploits whatever weakness he can to cull us out from the flock and separate us from all assistance. Satan is powerful and deceptive and will do everything possible to separate us from God. Freedom for the determined soul often comes after repeated falling. Only the power of the Holy Spirit can intervene to stop the progression of temptation to conception.

I received an e-mail this week from a friend who has been incredibly high and dangerously low in his determination to defeat his desire to act out homosexually. He has wanted freedom so badly that I've heard him cry out in anger, frustration, sorrow, self-pity, self-condemnation, defiance . . . you name it; he's cried it. This week he sent me a picture of him and his "boyfriend" walking their dogs in the park. He says he feels blessed to have reconciled himself . . . again . . . and "accepted" himself for "who he really is." Basically, what he has done is redefine "freedom" and proclaimed it found. What a sigh of relief it must be to decide something is no longer a sin.

The problem is, we do not get the privilege of determining what is and what is not sin. God took care of that for us. If we are the ones deciding what is and is not sin, then God's Word does not matter and neither does God. I would be able to decide that the things I am tempted towards are not truly sins . . . but that your temptations are, since they are not a problem for me.

Many people rationalize their use of pornography because they believe it is not as sinful because it involves no person beyond themselves, which is untrue. They point fingers at others who physically act out in other ways with people, rather than just using people in their minds. The sigh of relief from those who justify their pornography is the sound of the life energy of their souls slipping away.

In a world of constant change and challenge, sticking to a solid definition of anything -- whether it be "freedom" or "sin" -- is not an easy task. Black and white has turned to gray and right and wrong become like sand and we stand around with our filters and sifters. If there is nothing solid on which to stand, Christians will have no answers for people wandering aimlessly around under the potent power of repetitive sin. Imperfect as our response may be to homosexual offenders, the message of forgiveness and restoration that we know firsthand from our own repentance is the best hope for those who want to rise above the temptation of acting out. Those of us who have fallen pray to sexual sin and know its effect have a responsibility to help others crawl out of the quicksand that pulls us further and further down. Those of us who have come close to drowning need to throw out the preservers and hold the rope.

No doubt you've heard that giving in to temptations will take you further than you ever thought you'd go, keep you longer than you ever thought you'd stay and cost you more than you ever dreamed you'd pay. It is certainly true in my case, leading to the loss of my own children, the absence of many friends, the destruction of my reputation. Believe me . . . those were not the temptations I fell for . . . but the consequences I reaped.

Sexual immorality is so appealing and attractive to so many people. Sexual immorality -- which refers to ANY sexual activity outside the Biblical marriage relationship of one man and one woman -- is Satan's specialty. He can capture the mind and the body in his effort to destroy both. Today's cultural world view is working hard to make homosexuality acceptable, and though many believe that is the starting point on a path to making anything sexual acceptable, it's just a stop along the way. The reality is, our world's acceptance of pre-marital sex and extra-marital sexuality and pornography is what opened the door. Our TV shows and movies blatantly portray those sexual activities as normal and we wink, nod and laugh while the ratings climb and our young people succumb to Satan's attempts to normalize what God abhors.

"Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings." -- I Peter 5:8-9.

Trying to live a Christian life in this world is frustrating because a Christian faces the same issues of temptation and sin as does everyone else. Being born-again does not wrap us in a world-proof layer in insulation. We know we're saved and we know the Holy Spirit works within us. We know we're being transformed into the image of Christ. At the same time, we know we're being tempted by human lusts -- money, sex, power, etc., etc. -- and we suffer the guilt and shame of falling short.

Humans have a built-in fascination with sin that goes all the way back to the garden. We think we can get close to sin without actively sinning, maybe take a bite, but not gorge ourselves. Once we've toyed with temptation a tad too frivolously and fallen, it becomes easier and easier to fall again. I mean, what's a born-again human supposed to do? Cry out to Jesus. Of course. But there's always that tried and proven untrue response that Adam and Eve conjured up: hide. Problem is, we can't hide from God or Satan. God is omni-present; Satan is omni-searching.

"The Lord said to Satan, 'Where have you come from?' Satan answered the Lord, 'From roaming through the earth and going back and forth in it.'" -- Job 1:7.

Satan has my number I'm afraid . . . and since he has roaming, it doesn't matter how far I run. He finds me and tempts me . . . and when I am hiding from God, I fall.

Satan loves the confusion he creates in the lives of Christians. The more time we spend in guilt and self-examination, asking ourselves how we can call ourselves Christians . . . or responding to someone else who's examining our lives and saying "and you call yourself a Christian?" the more time Satan has to set his traps and tell his lies. He loves it when we're distracted, and he probably loves it even more when the distraction comes from the shock and horror of other Christians reacting to our downfall.

We do need to pursue holiness -- indeed, we must -- but we should help each other do it. We need to make each other aware of the times we succumb to our sexual nature . . . and then we need to move beyond condemnation to compassion, especially when the one who has fallen -- no matter how long he lived in deception -- is finally unpeeling and revealing his sin and asking for help.

"He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will find compassion." -- Proverbs 28:13.

Just as I mentioned above that we don't get to decide what is and is not sin, we also do not get to decide what will and will not be forgiven. Thanks be to God that's in His hands. We sometimes confuse the level of consequence with the likelihood of forgiveness. God does not.

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sons and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." -- I John 1:9.

Sometimes we forget we are forgiven and we let our guilt and shame lead us down a darkened path towards depression, loneliness and rejection . . . and Satan waits there in hope of taking advantage of the state of mind, slipping in a little stumble or a great fall. However, more often than not, we remember instead that . . .

"Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, it is well, with my soul."

For those of you who struggle, I pray that this will be a week in which you do not fall, but in which you grow stronger and remember that God loves you and has forgiven you. For those who walk with a struggler, I pray that this will be a week in which you will rejoice because your "walking with" kept someone on the path.

God bless,

Thom