Same-sex attraction is not the only thing. It's not the only struggle. And I can't tell you the freedom I experienced when I realized homosexuality was actually not even close to the top of my human struggle pyramid.
As I entered into ministry, I knew my SSA could end it all in one swift move. I hoped that instead of being rejected I would be loved. I hoped that people would notice their prejudice and change once they met me. I spent much time in prayer -- but also smoking.
What would it look like for my distant tribe to be gathered together? Didn't God long to change our shame into praise and renown? "Gather us," I prayed. I prayed that my scattered and lost tribe would be drawn together, our fortunes restored before our eyes. It was a prayer for my own benefit, but also for all of us.
In this episode of Manly Monday, Tom talks about the first of our five YOB values -- hope. Though hope often feels frail, even a little bit of hope is just as potent and powerful as a lot. Watch the video for more on our first value, including why Tom likes to write this word on himself.
I've reached the end of myself many times, and even just admitting that is incredibly difficult. Heartbreak, betrayal, loneliness, and fear -- all related to my sexuality -- have shaken me to my very core and brought me to the end of myself.
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.
The other guys told me about the Korean spa and how those experiences helped them. This sounded like something right down my alley.
This isn't about same-sex marriage. It's not even about Eugene Peterson or LifeWay. It's about a significant sliver of stories going untold.
It's not just that I never had a childhood best friend; it's that I'll never have a childhood best friend. That era has come and gone, that chapter closed.
100 days later, my sexual sobriety still very much feels like a fantastical concept. But it’s easier now, I guess.