Every August, from the time I was eight years old through high school, I would pack a suitcase, get on a bus loaded with 20 or 30 other kids and drive from San Diego through the California high desert to the San Bernadino Mountains. Our church camp was near a lake surrounded by tall pines and oaks, and we would go up for a week of swimming, hiking, volleyball, crafts, archery and fishing. Twice a day we went to the chapel for singing and Bible lessons, and each morning we had a devotional with our cabin counselor.
The camp week concluded with a roaring bonfire, a call to salvation, songs and testimonies. Each year I invited Jesus into my heart again -- just to make sure. I had already accepted him as my Savior when I was five years old after a week of Daily Vacation Bible School. But you never knew, maybe I hadn't really meant it the first time. So I prayed the prayer of salvation again, just to ease those nagging doubts.
A few of the campfire testimonies always came from the cabin counselors. They told dramatic stories about their recent conversions from sins like drinking, smoking, cussing, shoplifting or listening to bad music. I remember feeling a bit cheated, wishing that I had a testimony like theirs of a huge turnaround from sin to Jesus. Growing up in a fundamentalist church hadn't given me too many opportunities to indulge in illicit behaviors. Besides, I was always the good boy, usually picked by my cabin counselor as the "best camper" of the week -- meaning I had memorized the most verses and caused the fewest problems.
As I grew up I worked at being good, at doing the right thing. Life revolved mostly around church and school, and I kept busy at both. My family spent hours each week in church or in church-related activities: worship service; Sunday school; the evening Gospel service; mid-week prayer meetings; conferences; Bible studies. I listened to sermons, memorized verses, studied the Bible, sang in the youth choir, and was a leader in the youth group. Our church emphasized obedience and the Word, so I worked to master both. I knew little about experiencing God or knowing his grace.
At school I kept equally busy. In elementary school I was shy and withdrawn, and I escaped through the world of reading. I devoured books, reading whenever I could. Because of this I was a success at school, always an honors student, but I felt disconnected from people. In junior high and high school I began to come out of my shell, holding offices in student government and competing with the speech and debate team.
While I managed to look pretty good on the outside, I began struggling on the inside with some heavy issues. Despite the circle of people around me at church and school, I think I had always felt lonely and isolated. I was sick a lot as a child, and always small for my age, so I felt inept at sports and separate from a lot of other boys. I had an older and younger sister, and it was easier to play with them and relate to girls. Through junior high and high school my closest friends were girls.
As a young child, when I tried to be friends with boys, our play would sometimes turn into sexual exploration. This happened with neighbor boys between the ages of five and seven. I felt extremely guilty and ashamed about the sexual nature of these friendships, and tried to push them out of my mind. I was fearful and shy, and it was easier to withdraw into books or be friends with girls.
In junior high I discovered pornography and masturbation, and became compulsive about both. I would spend hours of my time alone trying to find sexual passages in books in the adult section of the library, or I would hunt for magazines in the fields and neighborhoods around our house. I felt more shame and guilt; I was afraid that someone would find out what I was doing. I became even more disturbed when my fascination with pornography began to shift from women to men. My attraction to men created more conflict because it was so at odds with the Christian world I was so immersed in.
I kept up the outer image of the good Christian boy for years, even as the struggle with sexual addiction and homosexual attraction increased. I graduated from high school and went to college, working as a camp counselor at our church camp during the summer and helping to lead our college-age Bible study. In my early 20s I worked with a high school youth group at a church for a year, and then went to a missionary training school for a year of preparation before going to Melbourne, Australia, for two years with a mission team.
By this time I had begun developing deeper relationships with a few people, and had even shared my struggle with a man and a woman. They really didn't know how to advise me about my same-sex attraction. I figured if I kept praying real hard it might just go away, or maybe I would grow out of it. I began hunting for Christian books about homosexuality, but in the early 80s there were few books addressing the issue. Some of the books were mean-spirited; the sympathetic ones had no concrete advice on how to overcome these problems. I worked harder at obedience, but struggled more and more with my internal desires. My hidden struggles with pornography, masturbation and sexual attraction to men conflicted with my Christian beliefs and my outward expression of faith.
Finally, some hope
It was at this point, in January, 1986, when I really felt at the end of myself, that I first found some hope. I was finishing my BA degree and working part-time as a youth intern with a Baptist church. The youth pastor invited me to a conference called "Hope and Healing for the Homosexual." At first, I felt fearful: how did he know I struggled with homosexuality? Did God tell him? Later he told me that a man had sexually molested one of the boys in our high school group. The pastor simply wanted to understand more about homosexuality and molestation.
I attended the conference with great anxiety. But there, for the first time, I heard some of the reasons why I had homosexual feelings. I learned that men with this issue are often emotionally disconnected from their fathers and from other boys while growing up. Sometimes the deep longings for identification with men and the resulting relationships are sexualized. Often this is because an individual has been molested or exposed to sex at an early age, as I had been.
After the conference I started seeing a counselor, began attending a Homosexuals Anonymous group and found some helpful books. It was a relief to find other Christians with some of the same issues. I had kept this part of my life hidden and secret for years, but I slowly began talking to friends and family about my struggle. Where I feared rejection, I usually found compassion and concern.
Oddly enough, it was after I had been working on recovery for about 18 months that I got involved in my first adult homosexual relationship. I had fought these feelings for so long, but up to that point I had never acted out with another man. The closest I came was "approach/ avoidance" games, where I would let a men come on to me, but then back off before anything happened. I was tired of fighting my same-sex attractions, and I finally gave in to them.
But this only brought more stress and anxiety. Again, I found myself living a double life, hiding the relationship from friends and family. I would go to church most Sundays, but hang out at gay bars and clubs during the week. My stomach was all tied up in knots; I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I kept thinking: "Why am I doing this when I know so much about homosexuality"? "I've worked so hard at getting better, why am I in this relationship"? That relationship ended, and I moved into another one.
After about a year of this turmoil, I had had enough. I knew I needed to return to relationship with Jesus and cut off the homosexual relationships. I went to the Exodus Conference in Los Angeles in 1988, where I received prayer and support for my decision. I returned to counseling. Most importantly, I decided that if homosexuality was really a desire for same-sex intimacy and identity, then I would pursue healthy, nonsexual male relationships.
Hurt, Lonely, Wounded
I was pretty hurt, lonely and wounded, but I committed myself to a church with a large singles ministry. There, I developed a number of healing relationships. One man disciples me. I met with two other men weekly for friendship and accountability. I joined a home group. I moved out with several roommates; all of them knew about my struggle, but they accepted me into their lives. I found great healing in those relationships, healing for the deep loneliness I had felt, and healing for my fragile masculine identity.
In July of 1990 1 started leading the home group that I had been a member of for two years. Our group always had visitors, people dropping in and out to check things out. My first night leading the group, a young woman walked in. "She's cute," I thought to myself, thinking more about the discussion topic than anything else. I was also trying to clear our house of smoke; one of my roommates had left his dinner in the oven on high heat for two hours. Judy walked in while I was running around opening windows and turning on fans.
Despite the smoke and my nervousness, Judy stayed in our home group, even though she said she had every intention of visiting other groups. Six months later we were dating, and a few months later I told her my story. Her first response was to go to a conference to try to understand more about homosexuality. At that conference she decided that she couldn't focus on my struggle, that she could only focus on her own relationship with God and her own spiritual growth.
I had long felt God moving me into ministry of some sort, and in January, 1992, I started and ex-gay support group through a local ministry, Alternatives. Slowly I began sharing with others what I was learning of God's healing. Slowly my relationship with Judy developed. We dated, broke up, then (after I came to my senses) dated again. I continued to work at healthy relationships with men, too. The next year I took over as the Director of Alternatives. That was a busy year, as I worked as an intern at church, went to seminary, and married Judy that summer, three years after she had walked into my home group.
Our ministry with Alternatives grew slowly, as I learned more about myself and about helping others who struggle with homosexuality. In October, 1995, I read an notice in the Regeneration newsletter, about a ministry opportunity as the Director of the Baltimore region. I didn't think a lot about it at the time why would a native San Diegan want to leave and go back East? And why leave all the relationships that we had so carefully cultivated? But later, the job description popped into my head, and I felt a tugging at my heart. Why not ask Judy about it? Why not apply?
Looking back with irony
The past few months have been a whirlwind as God has clearly directed us to work with Regeneration. We are excited to see how he has provided and to see the new opportunities opening up for us. I look back on the irony of my wish for a "testimony" to share. Coming out of homosexuality and sexual addiction was not what I had in mind! But I know that my story, and the stories of many like me, can bring hope to those struggling with any life-dominating sin.