Tom finishes out this first week of our new ConvoCast by welcoming back another OG YOB author, Dean, who recounts his flights around the country during this pandemic. The guys also talk about the church's role during these hard times and how something beautiful could be carried over into the "new normal" to come. In the episode's remaining minutes, Tom and Dean also recount how they first met and if Dean ever replaced Tom as a member of Tom's family?
Tom welcomes back another OG YOB author, Matt, to talk about how coronavirus life is affecting him on the other side of the country. There’s been some tragedy but also some hope. Tom also promises to follow in Matt’s literal footsteps and go longboarding very soon.
It was an unfamiliar city on the other side of the world, and not one soul knew who I was and what I was about. For the first time in my life I felt free, unrestricted to do anything and be anything I wanted to be. What will I do? Where will I go? Where will God take me? Who's God again?
My queerness is a part of me. And my desire is to submit my whole self to Christ. Thus, why would I not hold up my sexuality to the fruit of the Spirit to test it? Perhaps I may see where my sexuality rails against the Spirit. Or perhaps I may see where the Spirit shines its attributes through my queer identity.
It's an undoubtedly difficult season for many in our community, and we talk about singleness during the holidays: the disconnect, the loneliness, and the finding of hope and joy when hope and joy may feel so far away. Tom, Ryan, and Jacob share their stories of holidays past and present, answering some listener questions along the way, including the concept of spending the holidays with chosen family versus blood family, and whether we've ever been asked if we've found that "special lady" yet.
He was sitting there waiting for me, like usual. My pastor asked if I was okay, though he knew I wasn't. He could tell I was an emotional wreck, that I needed to get some stuff off my chest. I felt numb, this deep despair inside me, like all my energy had escaped me. I only had enough to meet with him on this particular day.
Ah, straight guys — also known as "the normal ones." What a load of complicated feelings I have toward them. I see straight guys now and again in groups together. It evokes more of an emotional longing. A deeply profound longing. It's a feeling of wanting to be like them, to be one of them. To be normal and accepted by ordinary men and be like ordinary men. But it can't be that way. I'm different.
I believe what Scripture says regarding a traditional sexual ethic. But more than that, I believe in the God behind that ethic and that his Word is still good for me, even if it's not always easy to follow.
Right on cue, in walks that cute guy again. Instantly, I'm back to spiraling, back to wondering if this faith thing can really work out in the end, or if I'm actually as crazy as I sound when I tell someone I'm pursuing celibacy. It's in these moments that God feels like the eternal God of "no" — no sex, no boyfriend, no husband, no romance, no intimacy. No love. God becomes the God who won't let me eat the fruit from the one tree I'm craving, instead of the God who provided an entire garden just for me.
Do I live the way I live purely because of the way I was raised? Do I still harbor any internalized homophobia of myself and others? Is that why I'm "Side B"? Is this all coming from a place of pious self-righteousness?