My daughter had been injured by an accident — something that had no one to blame or fault. And in that time, I needed to know that it was all going to be all right. I needed to know that it would work out. I needed hope. And I needed to restore my faith in that hope.
When I was a kid, my dream was to grow up and get a wife and kids. A lot of kids. My family and church taught me to pray for my future spouse. So, I did. Everyday for years. I prayed for the girl I'd one day marry, that God would protect her and care for her, whoever she was.
Call it a "new direction" or a clearer translation of what YOB has been from the start: a community desperate for Jesus. My 31-year Jesus journey leads me here. Wherever "here" is. Broken on the floor. Echoes of the past ringing in my ears. Doubts for the future always shadowing my vision no matter how many tears I blink away.
I have a fetish, and I've had one for about as long as I can remember. I have a "thing" that, in itself, isn't quite sexual in nature. But I fetishize that thing. I idolize it a lot, fantasizing for this thing, turning what was never meant to be sexualized on a dial that was never meant to be dialed.
God has promised to never leave me or forsake me. He promised that my hope in Him will never put me to shame. I am fully known and fully loved.
The shame over my SSA made me feel that I was something evil, repulsive, and unlovable. My loneliness and lack of friends seemed to prove it.
We decided to go to a nudist resort. My first trip to a nudist resort! Maybe I'd form a good, close friendship with the guy I was about to meet?
I've written before about having never been kissed. But that doesn't mean someone's never tried to kiss me.
He's an attractive cashier but he's more than just an attractive cashier. This attractive cashier personifies much of my struggle for the past 20 years.
"Straight-baiting" has always fascinated me: the act of tricking a heterosexual individual to engage in homosexual activities.