A Memoir: Episode 4

September 30, 2011. November 1, 2011. Two days that I'll also never forget. These are the days that two of my friends committed suicide on. I already had problems with suicide that derived from when I was ten years old. I was at a fair when I saw a man commit suicide. I have never forgotten that, nor have I ever wrapped my brain around the idea. I was so heart broken, distraught, and basically an emotional zombie for a while. Again, I couldn't wrap by brain around it. And that bothered me. It was incredibly painful to see two of my friends not be around anymore. I just didn't understand it. And that is when I realized that I truly didn't know if I knew where I was going when I died. All those previous thoughts of my spiritual eternity arose to the forefront of my mind. 

Throughout this time I had been attending the church that my friend invited me to (the second friend, not the first). And that next Sunday I was completely broken by the Holy Spirit. God always knew how to use my pastor to speak to me. I knew at that moment that my life was going to change. I gave my life to my Savior Jesus Christ. He had forgiven me of my sins and took my place on the cross that I truly deserved. He did it because He loved me... me, the hypocritical, two-faced sinner. The song lyrics: Amazing love, how can it be? That you my King would die for me... come to mind. It's weird to think that I'm thankful my friends committing suicide, because it led me to Jesus. Without those events in my life, I may have never come to fully understand what Jesus had done for me. Miss you Joel. Miss you Shea.

I've always heard that my life wouldn't be a piece of cake once I decided to truly follow Jesus. It's really and truly been a "struggle." If you are reading this, please know that I am not perfect. I am again a hypocritical, two-faced sinner who had bowed my head before an almighty, powerful, gracious, and loving God. He has taken all of my sin and shame and gave me righteousness. I will not get it right all the time, in fact, as Paul says, "I die daily" (1 Corinthians 15:31). But I am trying to keep my eyes on Jesus. Every time I struggle with lusts and desires that I do not want. I pray for guidance and strength to fight the temptations of my sinful flesh. 

God will help. He gives strength to the weak. My favorite verse is 2 Corinthians 12:9-10. It says: "And He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me. There fore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

A Memoir: Episode 3

Around the beginning of sophomore year, I started dating this person, yes, a man. We had been dating for about a month when he asked me to make it "Facebook offical." To which, I was wary about because again, I was good at keeping my second life hidden. But as he pleaded, I gave in (people pleaser) and blocked everyone I knew from my Facebook that could potentially see it, or be able to tell someone from home what was happening in college...

Somehow it leaked. I was called by my mother while practicing one night. She seemed incredibly upset. She said that my pastor at my home church brought my parents in his office to tell them of my college shenanigans. Apparently, someone found out (who I still don't know how to this day), and instead of approaching me about it, when straight to the pastor, who when went straight to my parents, and hence the phone call to me. I found this infuriating to hear. After all doesn't Matthew 18:15-17 say it plainly? 

     "Moreover if your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he hears you, you have gained your brother. But if he will not hear, take with you one or two more, that 'by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established.' And if he refuses to hear them, tell it to the church. But if he refuses even to hear the church, let him be to you like a heathen and a tax collector."

This was not the case. I was never contacted by said person who they had a problem with. It went straight to the church. I mean, these were Jesus' words. They should have been followed through. I am still bitter about this to this day. Regardless, I ended up telling the truth, because why lie when you know you're caught? I was sobbing in the practice room. I'm sure people looked in and thought I was crazy.

I broke up with this person later that week. I felt as if my mother was giving me an ultimatum: live this lifestyle or live without me (even though she did not explicitly say that, it's just how I recall that conversation happening). I could not imagine living without my mom, or my family. They have always been there for me. My life was in shambles. I vowed to myself that I would never date another man. Note that I said date another man, not mess around with when the chance came. This still allowed me to live the lifestyle, without the consequence of my mother knowing. I was very secretive for good reasons you see.

This went on until the summer before my senior year. I was asked to come to church with a friend. I went to this church and I liked the preaching but I felt a little judged walking into the church, but I kept going. This excited my mom at the potential prospect of my conversion, so my plan seemed to be working well. My friend ended up moving away to potentially go to seminary which didn't work out. I stopped going to this church because I didn't know anyone else there. Then another friend invited me to his church. I am so very happy he did. This church truly convicted me of my lifestyle. But I never mentioned it to anyone and simply placed the convicted thoughts in the back of my mind. This was around the time that a billboard sign was posted near my house that plainly said: ARE YOU GOING TO HEAVEN OR HELL? I hated driving past this every day. I hated it because it brought those convicted thoughts of how I was living back to the forefront of my thoughts. This bothered me so much. It was a true true testament of the "struggle" between my soul and my sinful flesh. I still managed to displace these thoughts as the days went on. 

A Memoir: Episode 2

I will never forget December 19, 2008. It was the day I was coming home for Christmas break after my first semester of college. I was excited to be home, to see my family, and for Christmas (it is my favorite holiday). I got home mid-afternoon and my sister asked me to go see Seven Pounds with her that night. ***SPOILER ALERT: I CRIED THE WHOLE TIME*** After bawling in the movie theater, I was ready to come home and go to bed. However, when I got home, my mother said that she needed to talk to me. I thought, "What could I have done? I just got home from college!?" I reluctantly sat on the couch with her as my sister went to her bedroom. I should also note that I always brought my moleskin home with me because I painted in it and my sister loved to look at it. I had forgot that I placed my letter to myself that I'd written months before in the back of my moleskin and laid it on my bed without thinking that anyone would look in the back. Do you see where I'm going with this? Needless to say, my mother apologized to me. I was taken aback because why would she be apologizing to me if she needed to talk to me? She said that she read my journal without my permission. But I didn't think that was strange because I always let my sister read it...

And then it hit me.

My mother or I didn't have to say any words. Or rather, there were no words. I have never cried harder than I did at that moment, ever. She and I knew exactly what she was talking about. I was not ready for this. I was planning to never tell my mother. I was planning to move away from home and live my double life when I got older. I was completely broken. I found it strange though; thinking back, my mother would always be the one crying, and she didn't. She was almost completely emotionless, or at least, that's how I felt she was. She would constantly ask questions that I knew any of my answers she would not be able to understand. To make a long story short, nothing was really resolved because honestly I didn't know some of the answers myself. I still wanted to be her good son, but all I could think about was how I was disappointing her. Every time I would come home from that day on, my mother tried to talk to be about how it was a choice, and I was choosing this lifestyle. She called it, "the struggle." I hated that. I still resent that word even though I live it every day. That's hypocritical. I started to hate coming home because I knew that I would have to talk with my mom about it. She would never come to understand what I was going through. So I continued with my double life. I got really good at hiding my college life. It was at this time that I immersed myself in this lifestyle and had no reservations about it. Needless to say, a private and personal thing was taken from me (not by force) and I'll never be able to have that back.

A Memoir: Episode 1

I suppose you could say that I've always known that I have had homosexual desires. I had the typical "coming out" story. You know, the awkward high school teenager who always denied it mainly due to the fact that I was constantly bullied by kids in school (even some who I called my friends, and once, a girlfriend of mine actually). And on the other hand, I was scared to death of going to Hell. I was raised a Southern Baptist, so basically I didn't seem to stand a chance of going to Heaven simply because I had these desires. I was a very confused kid, but never admitted it to anyone (though, half of everyone already knew secretly, even my family). And as any typical teenaged, coming-of-age movie, going to college truly changed things...

I promised my mother that when I went to college I wouldn't change my

beliefs. Well, in my own way, I really didn't. I still went to church, I still was a good person, and I didn't do drugs (except occasional social drinking). I always felt obligated to go to church. I didn't really want to go. I would have preferred to sleep in especially with my crazy busy music major schedule. I just did it to make my mother happy. I seemed to do this throughout my entire life, which is a huge insecurity of mine-- wanting to make people like me/people pleaser. 

Anyways, at first coming to college I was completely intimidated by the crazy RA's (who now tell me they thought I was a complete jerk to them at first but grew to like me), and the other students because they were so different than the life I had lived. It was all very overwhelming.

I was immediate bombarded by people who had different views and lifestyles that I did. It was scary and exciting. I was also bombarded by people who later became my friends. These people were and still are homosexuals. *Now, please note that this is not about them, nor am I chastising them for their lifestyle, because I became one of them.* I got so distracted by these people because they were interested in me. At the time I was naive, and didn't really know why they were interested in me. Now that I look back, it was simply because they had an inkling that I was gay, and only wanted to get to know me firstly, because of that reason. Not because of my personality, but because of a notion that they viewed to be true. Since they took this particular interest in me, I was flattered by it because at the time, they liked being around me and wanted to be my friend.

We finally got close enough that I ended up "coming out" to them (the next scene in my typical teenage movie). They encouraged me that this was not a choice and that I was born this way (and now I have Lady Gaga stuck in my head, this doesn't help my case at all). I dove into this new world of pleasure because I finally thought that I was being who I really was, and fell farther and farther away from God. And it felt good. I mean, doesn't it, to be able to get and do what you want? I then started to lead my two lives. My college life and my home life. I was a complete hypocrite. *Also note, I hate hypocrisy, which is completely hypocritical. Ironic, right?* I went on a trip with these friends in September and didn't really sleep well one night, so I decided to write down my feelings. I'm extremely good at bottling up my emotions. It's one of my biggest faults. I was still struggling with the whole aspect of my torn self: wanting to be who I thought I was, and knowing what I was taught that the Bible says is true. Anyways, I wrote down my feelings on four pages. I put these pages my moleskin and didn't think that anyone would read it...

First Post

I have recently been convicted of the little flaws that take over my life. I am not usually a blogger and do not consider myself a great writer, but I felt that this could be used to share my continual testimony with people. I'm hoping for it to be as raw and as honest as possible. People may not like it, understand it, or approve of it, but I feel God has led me to bash my insecurities. Please understand that this blog is not coming out of hate because if it were out of hate and chastising, then I would be a hypocritical fool. I am writing this out of love. It's out of a love for Jesus, my gracious Savior and love for anyone that is in the same situation as me. I am hoping this will help somehow. This is my story, this is my song.


"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing. Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love."
-1 Corinthians 13