Coming out to my old friends

Dear friends who are still running the race with Jesus, from my college years, mostly from my college Christian fellowship and my church at the time.

I believe that God is giving me the nudge to “come out” a little more out of the closet, to shout from the rooftops on my own what the Enemy often threatened to do himself. I must do the thing that I fear the most, for myself and for the Church, and to be a voice for brothers and sisters in the Church who remain very invisible even now.

I am a gay man, blessed to be married in one-flesh to the mother of my children.

Yes, I write all of that in the present tense. It should be obvious that I’ve made some hard choices, and I’m thankful that I’ve made them.

I choose those words carefully, and I fully realize how politically charged all of those words are. I used to just say that I struggle with attractions to men, but because of my marital status it often isn’t clear to people that I’m not “ex-gay,” and I’m not “bi-sexual.” I am still attracted exclusively to men, but the singular incredible exception is that I became sexually attracted to one woman, with whom I am today, one-flesh.

A miracle, to be sure, but I’m convinced that there are more men and women like myself out there in the Church, caught in the middle of the usual hurtful words and actions, and now threatened to be abandoned by a Church that appears to be moving on, ready to dismiss the choices I’ve made as irrelevant and behind the times. Those of us who had never “come out of the closet,” especially those of us who had the miracle and blessing of marriage are invisible, as they would not realize that we are “one of them” unless we were to say something.

I have to clarify that I am still in the closet; I share my story with a limited audience, despite opening this blog with a pen-name. Going completely public is not something I am prepared to do yet, as this decision would affect my children, and our parents.

I’ve become more and more comfortable with sharing my story with brothers and sisters who are spiritually close. But I’ve always feared telling YOU, my friends from my awkward lurch into adulthood in my late teens and early twenties.

I feared especially for my secret to be known among my brothers, from whom I’ve hungered for a greater emotional closeness for my own sake. I feared that I would now be rejected once my uncomfortable secret would become known, or at least every past hug be reinterpreted.

I have brothers now that know everything there is to know about me, but never hesitate to grab me in a long hug before parting, so I know now not to fear rejection.

A tiny handful knew back in college. My (future) wife, my pastor, a leader of our fellowship and my hall-mate. From these I began my small steps towards healing and wholeness. I thank you for your words of grace, your affirmation, acceptance and guidance, and I know you have celebrated every victory from afar.

My story in comic form, and some stories from my wife’s perspective, are shared here. You will see that we’re writing with pen-names, “David” and “Jenny.” If you want to just see my story to start with, click here. I hope this helps you understand what sexual orientation is (not a choice), what the struggle looks like (a daily choice), and how I got married to my wife (a daily gift). Start from the older posts.

I know that some outside of the church would say that I’m in denial. I know that some inside of the Church would say that I’m living an unnecessary charade. It hurts when brothers and sisters think my choice denies who I am and was inherently a mistake. It hurts just as much when brothers and sisters think that who I am makes me less valuable to the Kingdom. At one point, I was considered unfit to join full-time with one large ministry.

I slip away from debates with both sides every time there is a vote for a bill regarding marriage and civil rights. I don’t think I have to mention all the heated conversations where my friends didn’t realize that while talking about “them,” they didn’t know they were talking about “me.”

I am reaching out to you because I am very troubled at the increasingly pro-gay (affirming, not just accepting) stance of many in the American church. I knew it was going to happen, but I guess I thought of this as a “they” thing, but saw that it had already arrived right on my doorstep. What troubled me most is that though I hide from the angry words of the Church because I feared judgment about my sin, now I find myself hiding from the Church because the some have decided that I should have just embraced how God made me, and that I shouldn’t dare suggest otherwise to struggling young brother or sister.

I would like to ask you to consider how your words and actions would cause a brother or sister in hiding to stumble, whatever their beliefs about what God thinks about how they are made, or what choices they have made in the past or are about to make. Now consider how your words and actions may affect those who made a difficult choice from their convictions about what they believe to be sin, and what they believe to be God’s good timeless design for all of us.

Recently I heard of parents announcing to the church about their daughter who had just come out of the closet. I was glad to see that the parents communicated their unconditional love for their daughter, but I was disheartened to find out that she was only 13, and they were ready to accept a particular destiny as “who she is.” I heard of a pastor who allegedly privately decided on an affirming stance. These events have prompted me to take this step to open up to you.

We now have men and women in our church who are working out this very issue in their lives, and are in varying degrees in and out of the closet. We are grappling with how to embrace and address those who have not quite made up their mind that homosexuality is a sin, yet have jumped into our community and embraced the love of Jesus. I have shared my story with the whole church at the time, but many have joined us since then. As of now a rather large community now knows of my story, and now this community includes you.

Please ask me first before sharing about me by name with anyone else.

Please DO share this hope. Above all, please love.

I miss you lots, and I hope to see you again soon.

Love,

“David”