Turn It Up
A word of caution before you read this. I wrote this the other day. It is not the pretty, feel-good blog that you may be used to reading from me. I am not apologizing; I am simply preparing you for what you are about to read. Honestly folks, the walk out of homosexuality ain’t no cakewalk. It is a walk filled with moments of sheer amazement littered with days of “do I even know Jesus”. If all I ever wrote about were triumphs, then I would be painting you unattainable picture of perfection. I gotta share my failures, my doubts and my ugly moments my friends. Just know this. No matter what you read from me, at the end of day I know that God is in control and I place my life in his hands.
February 16, 2013
Sometimes no matter how loud you turn up the music, it can't chase away the demons that still taunt me with my past. The ‘demons’ still resident in my head seem to dig their claws in deeper. If I had any idea what you wanted me to surrender I'd reach inside and excise it myself. That option has got to be a lot less painful than letting you stick me in a glass case to marinate in my pain much to your voyeuristic enjoyment. I don't know what you want from me. If I did at this point after the way you've manipulated me, I'm not sure that I'd acquiesce to your request. I am in pain here. I feel like I'm caught between discovering the biggest breakthrough I've ever had in my life and the pain relief of suicide. I read about you in your word and I wonder if the God I read about and the God of my life are one and the same. I don't want you to reveal truth to me, because I am at the end of my rope. I want you to reveal truth to me, because you love me and at one point had called me into your service. Oh cruel master. You called me at the time of my greatest spiritual damage. You allowed the world to wreak havoc on my life and then at the point when I was so emotionally scarred that I developed an entirely different life to manage my pain, you came down to rescue me. Too late. I am at your mercy. I am always at your mercy. I watch others no greater than myself celebrate the spoils at the end of my rainbow. I feel like you keep me weak enough so that I have only enough strength to beg for crumbs just beyond the reach of your banquet table. I am chased from your presence by the very force that calls me into your presence. I fear you. I hate you. I am so confused by you. Why do you lead me astray?
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.”—Proverbs 3:5-6
Branded Soul
When I was a young man in the midst of my homosexual struggles and my dysfunctional family, I made a silent vow. I pledged that, if I could help it, “no one would ever hurt like I hurt”. It was my way of rationalizing all the childhood trauma of early sexualization and emotional neglect God allowed into my life. It wasn’t a flippant statement. The branding iron of pain left an indelible mark on my soul. Jesus eventually healed the hurt and the Holy Spirit soothed my pain, but the scars remained; reminders of my promise, a vow made in the fiery furnaces of my personal hell.
Over the past few days God has brought two guys struggling with Same Sex Attraction into our lives. Back in the day, when my own struggle led me from one relationship to another, I would have used these men to meet my own needs and led two souls further astray. When I sit across the table from a man with SSA these days, God allows me to see the guy through His eyes. The stories I hear on a weekly basis break my heart anew. The stories aren’t new or unique. They are often simply the rehashed schemes of satan. he has been using them for years to convince men and women who struggle with SSA that they are indeed “different”, “born that way” or “gifted by God with a unique sexuality”. Gaga and the gay agenda may have the masses by the throat, but on occasion God allows one or two to slip through the cracks and make their way out of bondage. That is where our ministry steps in.
Jesus Christ followed me all the while I was building a kingdom around my sexuality. He put up with me as I profaned his name as a “gay Christian”. Ultimately, in January of 1999, after two months of rampant pornography use the Holy Spirit posed the following question to me, “How can you call yourself a gay Christian? I see plenty of gay, but not a lot of Christian. “ That was the turning point for me. I knew it was true. I was a gay Christian in name only. In my heart I knew I was both. I also knew that both wasn’t possible or biblical. I surrendered my life and my sexuality at that point. One night in my bedroom just me and God.
In a sense, Jesus saved my life that day and the lives of every man I would have potentially slept with or led astray with my skewed biblical ideas. The only modifier that should precede the word Christian in our lives is ‘devout’ or ‘soldout’. Any other prefix stifles our responsibility to surrender and submit every sinful aspect of our life to the Perfect Sacrifice of Jesus Christ. At the end of the day, my identity is not in my sexuality, it is in Jesus Christ.
My surrender brought about one of the loneliest, most amazing years of my Christian walk. I had spent ten years in the gay life programming every second of every waking moment with activity in an effort to block out the whispers of God. Ten years later, out of sheer exhaustion, I collapsed on to my bed, broke and spent. My ex boyfriend told me he thought I might be depressed. Ah depression, one of the many side effects of running from God.
An active sense of pride in our world today occludes the pathway to Jesus. Day after day, we maintain the perimeter fences surrounding our darkened hearts. We grieve the Holy Spirit who was sent to be our comforter, not our referee. Surrender and submit my weary travelers. The battle you are fighting has no meaning and no end. Jesus Christ came so that you could have life and life more abundantly. The bible says it best in Romans 10:13 “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Abandoned. Never Alone.
When I began this blog, I felt like God was calling me to be real person working out his real struggles in the presence of a real God. To throw a rescue rope into the vast ocean that many people are drowning in. While I am enjoying freedom in many areas of my struggle, God is still busy excavating the cerebral, trash heaps in my head. Lately, he has been pointing his finger at an area of emotional dependency rooted in abandonment issues that have plagued me since childhood. This blog is about to get as real as I can without an NC-17 rating. I am not trying to entice or excite. However, my abandonment issues are hopelessly swaddled in the sordid sexual experimentation of my youth. I have moments when I wish this were someone else’s story. I refuse to spend my days wishing for a cleaner, less humiliating past. My tragic past is the only reason I know Jesus Christ as my savior.
I have been lonely a lot. Fear and low self-esteem have kept from establishing relationships. At any one time, my life has consisted of many acquaintances and one or two deep friendships. One symptom of my abandonment issues is huge insecurities in my close friendships with straight guys. They are so rare to me that I guard them like a rabid Pit bull. I’m very possessive. That’s when having only one or two close relationships becomes a liability. It’s an “Emotional eggs all in one basket” scenario, especially if I have invested heavily into the relationship. If anything changes, I begin to execute a series of habitual, almost reflexive maneuvers to prevent relationship failure. Before I know it I can be knee deep in the fire of emotional dependency. Then fear of Emotional dependency keeps me making new friendships. I believe this is fallout from my same sex attractions. I am currently talking with two other SSA strugglers who are dealing with the same issues.
You might have to read this blog twice. It is random and convoluted. I am just now beginning to unpack it myself. Writing this simply was like trying to stack water droplets.
The roots of my abandonment go back to my childhood. My connection with mom and other women in my life was strong. The connection with the men in my life, my father and brother, was not always positive. I know there was a point where my relationship with my dad was important to me. As I grew older, a rift began to appear and one day my father was no longer emotionally available. He became a staunch disciplinarian. My connection with my brother, from the age of six, was tainted with pornography and masturbation. My first real intimate connection with my brother was when he introduced me to porn. I learned how to masturbate by watching him. The stage was set for big issues to ensue.
My brother was molested at the age of 13. Sometime after, my father and my brother disappeared from the window of my life and a cousin took their place. My cousin was a year or two older. Our connection involved a lot of sexual experimentation for a number of years. I connected with him on an intimate basis. We would spend the night at one another’s house and hang out together. I remember always hoping that we would get some time alone to experiment once again. Our last interaction left a huge void in my life. It was the summer before our 8th grade year. The experimentation finally went to the level of intercourse. We started and ended up stopping. We were both still aroused, so we decided to finish with oral sex. He promised if I performed oral sex on him, that he would reciprocate. When he was finished, he got dressed and started to leave. I freaked out. I reminded him of his promise. He didn’t care. It was a trick he had played on me before. I always relented. I enjoyed the interaction. Towards the end of our time together, he had gotten to the point of “take or leave it”. He was never as interested in touching me as I was him. That was a terrible day for me. Not only was it our last interaction, he said some hurtful things. I remember pursuing him out of our house, pulling at his clothes with desperation in my voice as I begged and pleaded for reciprocation. He kept walking. He told me that we were too old to do this anymore, we were almost in 8th grade and people would call us queers.
A lot happened in my head that day. I felt used. I felt inferior. I wondered how in the world he could turn off his feelings so easily. My desire to be with him sexually pervaded my every thought. It was a turning point in our relationship. He went on to become the super stud jock of our class. I went on to suffer in silence as the effeminate, smart kid with secret same sex attractions. Abandonment took root that day. I would be plagued with it for years. I was the guy who desperately needed the companionship of other guys in my life. It seems like every guy on the planet could give two shits about relationships. That served to further alienate me from my peers. I felt like a being from another world. I was forced to establish fantasy relationships with the guys in pornography, while the real emotional connection side of my life died inside my heart. Instead of living life in the real world where interactions with guys always ended in pain, I retreated to a fantasy world where I got a false sense of intimacy with guys “like me”. Disconnected from real men and lost a world of pornography and masturbation, the seeds of abandonment gave way to the roots of homosexuality.
All it would have taken was an interested, compassionate, straight man to model my life after and my fate would have been different. The call was instead answered by my uncle, a man who was soft spoken, kind and compassionate and interested in the things I liked. He just so happened to be gay. His interest led me to believe things about myself that I might not have believed otherwise.
The first guy I had sex with in college further enhanced my sense of abandonment. We used to have long talks about our gay desires. He was going to have electro shock therapy that summer in order to rid himself of the desires. That would be amazing to be free of the feelings I thought. A few weeks after we met, I realized that we never had sex unless he was drinking. Drinking was his mental anesthetic. We interacted for the last time on Good Friday of 1990. I knew I was going to hell for having sex on the anniversary of Christ’s crucifixion. The dynamics of our relationship weren’t much different than the relationship I had with my cousin. Bret was only in it for the sex. Once that was over, he was done. On that Friday, he was sober. In the middle of our interaction he told me that he felt stupid. What I perceived him to say was “You are stupid.” Not exactly the words you want to hear in that situation. We finished and parted ways. That was the last time I heard from him that semester. He simply cut me out of his life. I would see him on campus. He would completely ignore me. In a moment, the relationship was over. I was left feeling that I was at fault. I spent an entire summer wondering what I did and longing for the connection we’d had.
At the start of the next semester, Bret called me out of the blue. He said he was sorry. He said that he wanted things to be the way that they were. Any person in their right mind would have told him what he could do with his wants and wishes. I was not that person. I was the shy, fragile, broken, little boy in desperate need for connection. I chewed him out for a bit. Then got in my car and went to his apartment. Nothing happened, but it left the door open for future sexual connections.
Abandonment was now in full bloom. I continued to date guys, but I learned to keep my emotions locked up to avoid getting hurt. When it came to sex, it was a get in, get what I needed and get out mentality. I hurt a lot of guys that way. Many wanted long-term relationships. I couldn’t allow my heart to be damaged yet again.
Fast forward to modern day Matthew Walker. I began my walk away from homosexuality 14 years ago. God has brought healing and trauma care to my broken places. The Abandonment issue is something that God has started to put his finger on. For me emotional dependency and abandonment seem to go hand in hand. Although I know the roots of my abandonment, it seems to sneak up on me. One of my symptoms was to hold back emotionally from people or only give as much as they seem wiling to invest. Micromanaged relationships left me emotionally compromised.
God shed some light onto my wounding one night, while watching a movie with my roommate. Halfway through the movie, he got up and went to bed. I thought he would be back. When I realized I had been left alone, a huge hurt and abandonment reaction triggered. Did he owe me a courtesy, “See ya”? Maybe? Whether he did or not, it didn’t warrant the level of emotion I was feeling. Red flag. The same situation happened again. My emotions flared up. I was beginning to see a pattern. Over the next few weeks, God began to let people cancel appointments on me. I was livid at first. Then I realized that God was doing two things. He was purposefully clearing my calendar, so he could have my attention. He was also ridding me of the Pride that was taking root in my heart. Every time someone cancelled, my reaction was always the same, “My time is important. How rude! How dare they treat me with such disrespect.” God had a field day with that one.
“You make appointments and promises to spend time with Me all the time,” he said. “It doesn’t bother you to break them.” My take away? God is in control, Of Everything. If I won’t make time for Him, he will make time. People will make and break appointments all the time. I had to see it as part of his plan instead of an all out massive attack on Matthew Walker. I stopped letting the enemy frame every bad thing in my life as an attack or reason to be offended.
Abandonment is still a constant struggle. I react badly. I plot and plan elaborate schemes to prevent getting hurt. I pull away from my friends. I know the roots. I know that not every straight man is rough and tumbled and scared of my past. God is bigger than my issues. If Jesus Christ is my constant, then the random exits and entries of men in and out of my life aren’t a big deal.
God is faithful through all of this. This isn’t the first root of trauma in my life. It won’t be the last. God sees them all. He always knows when and where to perform the much-needed surgery.
Auto Pilot Kid
IMG_2596 - Version 2
I was traveling down I-4 the other day, which some have termed the original Highway to Hell, and I looked up and saw the above message scrawled across the sky. Naturally I posted it on my Facebook wall. One of my friends wrote back that he hoped I had not taken it literally as I was traveling at speeds of 60-70 mph. At any rate, the Holy Smoke writer gave me cause to pause and realize that this is a direction we all must take on a daily basis. Every day as the world and the enemy of our soul seeks to throw us off course, we gotta grab the wheel and turn our hearts and minds back on course. The airplane reminded me of the secret nickname my father had for me as a boy. My father and I were never close. My brother was molested when he was 13 and I was 6. This event took my dad's eyes off of me and put them on my brother. In a sense I was forced to go through some key developmental years without the emotional connection with my father. It seemed the only thing my dad was interested in teaching me was about church. I hated church, so this further weakened our relationship. My dad was so focused on my brother for a few reasons. After my brother's molestation, he began acting out in behavioral and sexual ways. At one point he told me he began having sex with girls to prove to himself that he wasn't gay. Since my brother was always in trouble, my father was constantly focused on him. I was a good kid, so my father believed that I didn't need a lot of maintenance. His nickname for me was "The Auto Pilot Kid". I never knew this. I simply thought my father loved my brother, more than he loved me. My father would discipline me more strictly than he did my brother. This was my father's way of keeping me from ending up like my brother, but it further widened the gap between us. I felt targeted by my dad. My father was also hands off with me, because I had an overbearing mother. He told me later in life that he wanted to do stuff with me, but he didn't want to argue and try to wrestle me away from my mom. He didn't know that I wanted to hang out with him. He said I seemed happier with my mom. It was also easier to let her have her way. I remember when he told me this that my exact thought was that "I was a sacrifice on the altar of my dad's sanity." If he gave me up, his life with his wife was easier. That is still an image that troubles me.
As my father and brother seemed to me to have a greater relationship than my father and I did, it killed me emotionally. If I couldn't have a relationship with dad, then I didn't want one. Or at least that is what I made myself believe. They call this defensive detachment. It was then my goal to sabotage the relationship between my father and my brother. I pointed out every mistake my brother made. I tried to make my father feel bad for loving him more. I had this terrible, growing hatred for my father. I tried to say mean things and make fun of him every chance I got.
My mom didn't help with our relationship. She knew I needed a father influence in my life, so oftentimes she would push me to relate with him. More often than not though, she would talk about him behind his back. Bad mouth him to my brother and I and take me and move to her mother's house for weeks at a time when they would fight. One time on vacation she got so mad at dad that she waited for him to get out and ask for directions and she climbed into the drivers seat, drove off and left him two states away. My mom always defied my dad's authority in my life. I never respected him, one, because she didn't and two because I felt if he didn't love me then I didn't owe him anything.
I spent many years establishing a life on my own without any relationship with my dad. So years later when he tried to insert himself into my life, I was like, "Who are you? and Why are you bothering me?" That was met with resistance on his part. When my brother moved out, my father could focus on me. He was more of a disciplinarian than a father to me. I had grown up with him in the house, but not in my life. I hated him. I hated his God. I hated religion. I distanced myself from every man in my life for many reasons. By doing that, I took myself out of the arena of manhood. There was no one to teach me how to become a man. No one to model my life after.
My absent father wound led to the development of homosexual desires in my life. I grew up with men, but we are created by God to need men as men. After leaving home, I spent the next ten years of my life looking for the acceptance and love of men, because of the deficits of my childhood. The only problem is that those relationships were a mixture of emotional neediness and rampant sexuality. I conducted a futile search for a father and a brother and a friend in a group of men who had been wounded as deeply as me.
It wasn't until ten years later that God led me to a male friend who loved me right where I was. He used that friendship to walk me out of homosexuality and back into a relationship with my father. My father has always been emotionally dependent on my brother, but there was more that God wanted to teach me through my father. My father and I have a good relationship these days. It could always use work. As I work on it, my healing grows.
I was able to talk to my father one night about my childhood. He assured me that he loved me as much as he loved my brother. He didn't make excuses for his behavior, but he did apologize and ask for forgiveness. I lost so many years with my dad, by believing the lies of the enemy. Don't do this my friends. Let God in to your heart to dispel the lies of the enemy.
Do You Love Me?
Do you love me?
Enough to give up your will and choose mine?
To walk with me
Every single moment
Of every single day
Do you love me?
Does the fact that I know your every thought and still cherish you mean something to you?
Does the fact that I have
felt your pain
and endured greater struggles,
make you love me even more?
Do you love me on the days when you wake up
and fear courses through your veins like the blood that ran down my brow on the cross?
Do you love me?
Enough to stand watch as I kneel in the garden to pray
Do you love me?
Though you don't understand my methods or my ways
I hope so
No matter how many lashes came to greet my body that fateful night
I saw your shining face
I saw the whip in the hand of the woman whose life I would gladly save
I saw the fear tempered with anger on the face of the last man to drive the stake through my wrist
I felt
the tears behind the emotion
the despair behind the guilt
I felt them all
Bore them all
Became them for a season
I would do it all again
So I ask you now
Not out of necessity
But out of sheer desire
Do you love me?
Do you love me enough to share the pain masked by the problems of this world?
Do you love me enough to lay aside your emotional weapons and walk toward me?
I long for nothing more than to hold you in my arms whether you love me or not
To share with you my plan for your life
Heal your wounds
Right the wrongs
Do you love me?
Are the scars in your life there because of your efforts to sustain them?
My scars are proof of nothing more than the fact that I love you.
I was there when you sought comfort in the arms of another man
I held you both as you marinated in the duality of pain
I walked along with you
I called your name
It was my eyes you searched for
as you frantically scanned the crowd that night
When I met your gaze you quickly looked away
It was my hand that held you when you sobbed inner tears so great
that to birth them would have brought about unparalleled insanity.
I lifted you up when you had trouble seeing over the clouds
I made it possible that your every wish
Every desire could be fulfilled
One night
As I made the decision to give up my will
Combat the fear welling up inside me
With great tears of blood falling from my eyes
I gave up my own desires in this world
My very life was laid before you
Giving you the opportunity to live your life
So I ask you
With great anticipation
And a heart that rejoices each time a lost soul calls my name from the darkness
Do you love me?
New Roof Jesus
IMG_2577
I want to share some scriptures that demonstrate how valuable we are to God that my dad shared with me many years ago. These scriptures frame the last few months of my life as I place the care of my life in God's hands. Matthew 10:29 Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. 30 But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.
About a month ago, I saw a company replacing a roof near my house. I always slow down a little to judge and watch the progress. I have seen several roofing jobs over the years take a week to finish. I always wondered what happens if they tear off the roof and it rains. In the process of watching this latest company tear the roof off and put on a new roof, two to three days elapsed. I have watched roofers for years, because secretly, I was shopping. I took note of this latest company and called a few days later. I praised them for their workmanship and the speed at which they finished the roof. I set up an appointment and the Owner of the company showed up at my house. I answered the door and there stood an older gentleman with gray hair pulled back into a long ponytail, wearing a very large skull necklace. Not what I expected, but he had a soothing voice and immediately you could tell there was something different about him. He introduced himself and then asked who my insurance company was. I had no idea. It threw me off. What a strange question.
He went outside to look at the roof. After 10 minutes he returned. My curiosity got the best of me and I asked, "Why did you need to know who my insurance company was?" With a big grin, he said the words that made 2013 a whole lot sweeter for me.
"Because we are going to have them replace your roof for you." I'm sure I looked more confused than John Boehner after he found out Obama got reelected. Anyway. He explained the problems with the roof and how my homeowner's policy was going to pay to fix them. I had originally called him for an estimate, knowing that I didn't have the kind of money required to fix the roof. In fact, a few days prior, I called to ask Wells Fargo about a home equity loan. I haven't heard that much laughing since I asked Pam McGlothlin to my senior Prom.
By the way, the gentleman's name is Ken. His company has been around for 40 years. When he came into the house he complimented the scriptures I have on the walls. It led to a conversation about the ministry we do here at the house. I then realized why Ken was different. Ken is a Christian. He says his company is in the business of helping people. He kept saying that. But big companies don't help people. Or do they?
About a year ago, some friends of mine told me to write down the things I needed from God for the house. I wrote down a new roof. I didn't hold too much faith that God was going to get me a new roof. Then I found Ken. Well Ken left. I was excited, but doubt began to creep in. Was this too good to be true? People would say it was. I still wanted to believe this was answered prayer.
A few days later, I went on a prayer walk around the neighborhood. I was praying about the roof amongst other things and trying to be thankful. The doubt steadily crept into my prayer. Almost immediately, I heard God, "Will you stop doubting?" It was the tone of voice where you think the next thing he's gonna say is "I got this!". He didn't. I didn't need him to. That first statement was enough. I didn't want to doubt, but I've had so many disappointments lately. Doubt was kind of a reflex.
God said "stop doubting". I set about on a course of not doubting. I began to be thankful for my new roof. It was so hard. I kept on believing. At one point I felt like the man in Mark 9:23-24 who brought his demon possessed son to Jesus for healing. "Jesus said to him, “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes. 24 Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”
A few days ago, a huge check in the mail. No, not Publisher's Clearing House Big, more like 5 numbers right on a Powerball Ticket Big, but the amount is not the point. God answered a prayer. A huge prayer. I am getting a new roof and he managed to throw in new ceilings as well. God didn't stop there.
I knew beyond that I need to sell my truck and get a car. I knew that shopping for a reliable, used car is like trying to find a full set of teeth at the Waffle House. I began to pray about it. I prayed specifically that God would get me a car that would get me from A to B. A few days later, I ran into a guy at work that told me he was selling a 2000 Honda Accord. In his description of the car, he described it as a good, little car that'll get you from A to B. Simple words of coincidence. Nah! All God! One simple phrase was what I asked for in prayer. Within three weeks I was driving that Honda. And it, is amazing!
I could keep going. I won't, but I could. Well maybe just one more story. God was kind enough to make a connection for me at work that allowed me to receive a free buddy pass on Southwest Airlines. I used the ticket in order to go see my father. He recently had a heart attack and surgery. I was able to see my family. I was able to be with my dad and brother on the anniversary of my mom's death. I couldn't afford the ticket on my own. God provided. My days off changed three weeks prior and were surprisingly perfect for the trip. Once again. All God.
I am looking at these gifts as little deposits of what God plans to do this year in my life and with the house ministry. I am working on my surrender "muscle" in order to serve Him better. I couldn't tell you what full fledged surrender looks like. I can tell you that I am scared to death. And unless you have done it people, spare me the 'do not be afraid' speeches. I will get there in God's timing. I said I was scared, I didn't say I wasn't going through with it.
I am just thankful. God is providing not because I am amazing, but because I am being obedient with my home, my life and the blessings He has given me. God provides for this house ministry, because there are people who need it in their lives. Praise God. Thank you Dad!! You are awesome!
Matthew 10:32 “Therefore whoever confesses Me before men, him I will also confess before My Father who is in heaven. 33 But whoever denies Me before men, him I will also deny before My Father who is in heaven.
To the Beach
In March of 1992, I was a junior at Oklahoma State University. I was living in a fraternity house, barreling aimlessly toward a degree in Physiology in order to attend medical school in the fall. There was only one problem. Nothing in my life was engaging my heart. I went to my advisor on campus to try and salvage something out of my life and my time at O state. It was the hand of God that led me to that meeting. During that meeting I uttered the infamous words, “I really want a degree in Marine Biology”. He joked that there were no Oceans in Oklahoma, but he knew of a Tropical Marine Biology class being offered through OSU that summer, on an island in the Bahamas.
I left his office with a new mission. I felt passion well up within me. After years of searching for a purpose or something to fulfill me, I had stumbled upon the next, exciting leg of my journey. The cost of the class was around $2000. My parents weren’t going to go for it, so I took out a student loan. The semester ended. I returned home to begin the long wait until August. My spirit was already in the Bahamas. My body played the waiting game.
I wasn’t a devout follower of Christ back then. When I first started college I tried to keep up with my prayers, but college rendered me spiritually silent. The only time I did pray was those last ditch efforts for God to take away my attractions to other guys. Night after night, I filled the air with screams and tears. Night after night, God filled my life with silence. Later I would learn that God can’t take away what we are unwilling to surrender. My homosexual feelings ran far and deep, like they were a part of my very nature. However, in the deepest part of my heart, I knew that wasn’t true. I wanted to be free of them, but I didn’t ever remember choosing to have them, so confusion provided the perfect breeding ground for my sinful desires.
Eventually, God began to answer my prayers and provide vision for my future. In order to secure my place in the class I needed the signature of the one of the college deans. It was summer break and everyone was on vacation, or so I thought. Quite randomly I ran into a science professor, whose class I had taken 1 year prior. Her name was Dr. Deborah Meinke. At the start of every semester, she did something with every student that I have always found unique and amazing. She would walk every row, look at each student and say their name. She memorized us. She always called me by name in class. After hundreds of students and a year later, when I approached her, she called me by name. I was blown away. Dr. Meinke was also a dean. She remembered me and signed my permission slip. You can credit the entire occurrence to a good memory and coincidence. I credit it to God.
When August finally arrived, I was ready to board a plane and never return. I had always wanted to be a dolphin trainer, but had given up on that dream. This was the first, bold step in rekindling the fires of passion in my heart.
A delegation of 10 people accompanied me on my journey; people from every imaginable social class, culture and background. I was naïve enough to believe that everyone on the trip was also crazy about dolphins. I had banked everything on this trip. I had my entire world and all my eggs in one basket. Our last flight to San Salvador Island was in the tiniest of planes. The seating was close and it forced many of us to sit face to face. The girl across from me was Bahamian. She spent most of the flight sketching in a notebook. I kept trying to steal glances at the paper, rather than to ask what she was drawing. There was something about her that intrigued me. Most likely it was a spiritual connection. I know it wasn’t a sexual attraction. I was still gay at the time. My eyes had found another young, laidback guy on the plane, who exuded quiet confidence and had rugged, good looks.
The girl’s name was Calae. She and I would find ourselves walking along the beach later that day playing a game of name that tune. She would hum a few notes. I would guess the song. I would hum something. She would guess. Then by divine intervention, she began to hum amazing grace. I knew the song, but I didn’t know anything of it’s concepts. “Are you a Christian?” she asked. I fumbled around for an answer, which spawned a pseudo confession from my heart to this total stranger.
I told Calae about my struggles without ever mentioning the word “homosexuality”. I danced around the subject like I was walking on a bed of hot coals. I told her that I “have something big and terrible at work in my life”. I told her of my bruised emotions and rampant confusion. Yet, even back then, 6 years prior to the time I would finally leave homosexuality, God had planted hope in my heart. Even in the midst of being attracted to every guy on the street and feeling inferior to all of them, God was there. I told Calae that a day was coming when I felt I would climb over the mountain of my sin and find freedom on the other side. I told her that I felt that life would be stress free and my problems would be over once that happened. Her next statement was tempered with wisdom and love, but it caught me like a dagger, piercing my chest. You will overcome this, she said, but the truth is that on the other side of it there will be other crises and struggles. I felt my spirit yelling “NOOOOO!!!!” I couldn’t imagine a life of persistent life of struggle. I didn’t want to believe that after this, there would be more strife, more battles and more heartache. Yet once again as before, the truth surfaced from deep in my heart. I knew she was right. I also knew, it scared the hell out of me.
It would be many years later before I would reunite with Calae. I had turned my life over to God and had begun to climb the mountain of my past. She presented me with a painted tapestry of Irish Linen. The subject of the painting was “The Queen’s Staircase”, a Bahamian national landmark. Slaves carved the staircase out of the natural coral and limestone of the Island. It is also called “The Sixty Six Steps”. As Calae shared the story of the landmark, my eyes filled with tears. “These steps remind me of the all the steps you have taken to walk out of homosexuality and towards God”, she said. It was monumental for me. Not only did she remember and acknowledged my struggle, but she had seen it play over many years. She was also there from the beginning.
I have no doubt that God heard those desperate prayers from my bedside at Oklahoma State. He knew the tears I cried weren’t a superficial show of emotion, but evidence of a soul in deep despair. My homosexual desires had been shaped over a lifetime of hurt and pain. God knew that my family situation had tragically shaped my life and spearhead the development of my homosexual desires. God also knew that it was His process and not a magical healing that would lead me to discover the truth that no one in born gay. God ultimately revealed to me that I may have been born Sensitive, Artistic and Creative for His pleasure, but I was not born gay for men’s pleasure.
The trip to the Bahamas was less about my career as a dolphin trainer and more about the sovereignty of God. God planted a love for his creation in my heart. Then He used that love to teach me about his Amazing Grace. Lyrics that were nothing more than a catchy tune on a beach many years ago, have now become the words that define a life full of purpose.
“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me… I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now, I see.”
Thank you Jesus for choosing me so long ago. Please let your revelations rain down and flood the gay community with your love and grace. You are no respecter of persons. Do for them father, what you have done for me. Amen.
Shadows & Whispers
One of my greatest pastimes is asking God semi rhetorical questions. I took a walk on the beach tonight. It's where I connect with God the most. The waves soothe my soul as they help recalibrate my wandering brain, bombarding it with a relentless cacophony that quells my cerebral minutiae. Tonight, the Ocean's roar played persistently in the background as I listened to 7 recordings of a story that I co-authored with a friend. His voice gave life to my words. I stood in the Atlantic, tears of revelation and rebuke streaming down my face as the ghosted words of my past, heralded the promise of a vivid, future. For the most part, I was alone on the beach. Deceptive shadows might have been people sharing my holy space or simply creative, haunting imaginations. After a few moments, my eyes acclimated. I could see that I was alone in my walk, alone in my search and desperately hoping to catch a whisper from God. I lingered a few moments more. When I turned and began the walk back to the hotel, He began to impact my thoughts.
The Holy Spirit led me to see the answers to the questions I was asking.
"What am I supposed to surrender?", I asked. "Everything," he said.
"When do I begin to surrender?", I asked. "Everyday," he said.
"How long will it take?", I asked. "A lifetime," he said.
When God called me into the ministry at the age of 9, I did everything, but yell out, "HELL TO THE NO!!" in church. I was sitting in an Assembly of God Church in Barnsdall, Oklahoma and our pastor was preaching about Jonah and the Whale. I was half listening, half doodling on a piece of paper. What I got out of the message was that some poor guy, Jonah, was being railroaded by God and was being forced to be a preacher. My translation for my life was this simple thought, "Man, wouldn't that be terrible if God called someone into the ministry. You wouldn't have a nice house and a nice car. You would have to give up everything." We were lower middle class and I wanted all the things that money could buy, so I was definitely not going to be a preacher. Then it happened. A great pause in the universe and I knew in my little kid brain that God was calling me into the ministry. Thus I began my run.
32 years later as I allow these words safe passage out of my brain and onto an awaiting canvas for your perusal, I realize that my desires in life are now very different. I just purchased an old car and I will be selling my very nice truck in a few weeks. The house I have is in constant need of repairs, but it is the house that God gifted me with. Save for the occasional $5 cup of Starbuck's coffee, my life isn't filled with the treasures, baubles and trinkets my 9 year old self might have imagined. It has been filled with precious, amazing souls with more value than any material item I could have ever come to own. Time. The relentless and persuasive emotional anesthetic, nipping away the sting of the past with the passage of days.
God, forever the optimist, saw fit to plant a unique call into the heart of a young boy. Then in His infinite wisdom, he allowed affliction to shape that call into a weapon that could have easily destroyed the boy and for a time it did. At the precise moment, God's own son stepped in and breathed new life into the boy's life. That which the enemy meant for destruction, eventually became the weapon of choice the boy used to help fight the same affliction in others.
God called me into the ministry at the age of 9. Just like Jonah, I ran. My run led me into homosexuality and every emotional and developmental hardship that goes along with it. Then I encountered Jesus in a tangible way. It was in the area of my greatest wounding, my sexuality, that I experienced the greatest power of our God.
What is it that we should surrender? Everything. When? Everyday. It may take a lifetime to achieve, but we'll have all of eternity to celebrate.
Satan's Contract
Can I be totally honest? Stupid question I know. I believe that God led me to start this blog. For so long I have been fearful of any opposition to the stories I share in my writing. That is one thing that kept me from blogging for so long. I would write a story from my past in homosexuality or a story about leaving homosexuality behind and the naysayers would attack. This time around I was more afraid of God’s wrath than theirs. God asked me to begin to share my struggles and my triumph. He gave me the courage to step through that great curtain of fear that has plagued me for far too long. As I began to write I felt my courage grow. The title of my blog jokingly refers to creatures of legend and myth. As an ex-gay man in the Post Gaga culture, I am also a bit of a creature of myth. Christ calls me a new creature. The old me has gone away. The new me has taken his place. 2 Corinthians 5:17 “…if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!”
My goal in writing this blog is not to set myself up to be a hero or a villain to either side. It would be awesome in both cases if they forgot me altogether and pleaded or argued their case before a great and all powerful God. What is my goal? To share my life with such a ridiculous amount of honesty that no church would ever hire me and the gay agenda can’t deny that my homosexuality was indeed lived out and not gleaned from a studious and thorough reading of “Becoming a Man” by Paul Monette. What is fresh on my heart tonight is how my homosexual struggle drove a wedge between my family and myself.
There was a point in time when my family life was good. Granted it was a long time ago, but I remember it. It is a good memory. My struggle with homosexuality wasn’t the sole cause of our family dysfunction. My mom was bi-polar. My dad was determined never to sin again. My brother’s life was lived in the shadow and fallout of sexual abuse he received at the age of 13. Then there was me: Artistic, Sensitive and Creative. I guess you could say I was “born that way.” Those are the attributes that God gifted me with. My family never openly rejected me because I was gay. I was afraid they would though and that is what coaxed me out and away from them. A whisper from the enemy, “You are different, special. They will never understand you.”
1 Peter 5:8 calls us to “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” Lions kill the prey they coax away from the herd. They target the weak, old and young. That is satan. I was young when I began to feel different. I can see now that what I felt was misidentified as homosexuality. I believe it was in fact that God had created me different (Artistic, Sensitive and Creative) for His purpose, not for the fulfillment of another man’s sexual fantasy. My journey away from family was an emotional one at first. After all, not many 6 year olds leave home to strike out on their own. Little by little I let the enemy conquer my mind with whispers, pornography and fantasy. When my mom would rage, and she raged often, I would slip away to a place in my head where I could shut out both my emotional pain and eventually my physical pain.
The next leg of the journey was a spiritual one. I wanted nothing to do with the God these crazy people in my house served. Besides, when he found out what I was, he would condemn me to hell anyway. The last leg of my journey was the physical disconnection with my family. I remember sleeping on the living room floor of my childhood home, because all of my belongings were packed. My mom came in to me to say goodbye, grasp at the last tattered threads of our disintegrating relationship and she began to weep. “You don’t have to leave,” she sobbed. “I don’t care if you are sick, or you’re dying or you are gay,” she pleaded, “You don’t have to leave.” I stared back at her, emotionally bankrupt for her, with staid, soulless eyes. I had waited years for this moment to finally severe the cord and move out in the world, unhindered by her mind numbingly, stifling, life altering “love”. It was the first time I had ever heard my mother acknowledge my homosexuality. I knew she knew. All mothers seem to “know”. At this point though, it was the one area of my life that she hadn’t pervaded and conquered and I was damn well not going to let her have the only piece of me that was truly my own. So I stood there motionless. I let her cry and wail and then slink back to her room. I am sure a piece of her heart died that night. I know that, because mine did, too. That night, standing in that living room I signed my life over to the enemy, because when I was six years old, the whispers of the enemy, drowned out the heartbeat of my God.
My journey into to homosexuality would take me further and further away from my family. I had to live two lives. They loved me, but they didn’t love the path that I was following. Homosexuality, kept me bound to one guy for a period of time as a source of my everything. My pursuit of all things gay, cheated me out of the social aspect of college. When I returned for our 10-year reunion, I didn’t know anyone, except a few close friends. The enemy convinced me that not only was my family against me, the world was too. I would need to fight and defend my homosexuality. Protect it at all costs. After all, I was “born that way”. On and on the lies and separation continued. My father never stopped praying. Never stopped entering the arena to fight the enemy for my life. Even as I sided with the enemy against him, time and time again.
When my life began to crash down around me, the phone calls from my father began. “You can always come home,” he’d say. I would always tell him no. Ultimately, I accepted my father’s offer. A 21-year contract with satan came to an end that day. God proved to me He is the God of restoration. God began to show himself as loving Father and unconditional lover. I look back now and regret fills my heart for those lost years, yet I am thankful for my struggle, because without it, I would not have known my Jesus. I would not have known the Holy Spirit moments that have saturated every year of my life for that last 14 years. I praise God that he rescued me, not from sin or really even from satan. God rescued me from myself. He pulled me out of the wreckage of my life, healed my wounds and set me along a new path.
Storming the Castle
This is the view of my neighbor's house from my front porch. It looks like the house went on a three day drinking binge and threw up all over the lawn. Repeatedly. This has been my view for about a week. There was much speculation about what went on over there. There was a lot of human activity for a few days and then...silence.
My roommate said I should write about this. I think he likened the lawn and the house to our lives as Christian men and women. We live Christian lives that look similar to nice houses. The outside of the house is nice and pristine. We manicure the hedges, fertilize the lawn, plant beautiful flowers and keep it free from leaves and debris. We want the outside of our house to inspire envy. We want people to exclaim; "Wow! What a nice house. Those people really have it all together." Yet, I wonder what people would see if they stepped inside the same house? Would it be as well kept? Then I look across the street to my neighbor's house once again. There is no mystery what the inside of their house might have looked like.
I think as Christians our lives look like those pristine "houses of interest" to non Christians and struggling Christians in our lives. We keep ourselves super, squeaky clean letting those around us believe that everything is in our lives is perfect. We lead others to believe that we have it all together. We put up a good facade, yet behind closed doors, we are struggling and dying a little with every passing moment. The bible describes us as "white washed tombs". Matthew 23:27 "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean."
I am not without fault. I have lived a life like that. There are areas of my life that are quite manageable, but in the areas that I struggle, I STRUGGLE BIG!
My eyes, once again, catch the vision of a lawn strewn with trash bags, sofas, cabinets and other odds and ends. The yard is trashed, but in the back of my mind I get a visual of the house. It's barren walls, scarred from nails where pictures of family once hung. The floors are open and the rooms lie dormant and quiet. There is nothing left of the clutter that once permeated every available amount of space. It's been swept clean. Isn't that the picture of our lives when we have that first, life changing encounter with Jesus. We eject all the crap from "our house" out on to the lawn "of the cross". We care less what the neighbor's say about the outside of our house and everything about what God has done to clean out the inside. Nothing matters except for Jesus.
When i walked out of homosexuality, I began a long walk toward Jesus. That is what it felt like to me. In truth, Jesus had walked with me everywhere I had already been. My drunkest night. My gayest club. Every moment I contemplated suicide. The night of my rape. Every night I tried to drink away the loneliness. When I used cigarettes to calm my nerves. Every time my mom crossed my boundaries. Every time my voice was shoved just a little deeper down my throat. Jesus, understood my pain, because he was no stranger to it. He saw it. He wept right along with me. And at the end when I decided it wasn't worth it anymore, he held my hand and heart as I took those first scary steps away from a lifestyle that was my comfort for ten years.
My life is one of setting captives free. What is "your prison" my friend? Christ has laid the keys outside the door little brother. It is your choice whether you reach through the bars and use them to open the door to your cell.
God has called me to be a minister to the gay community. Luke 4:18-19 “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to PROCLAIM freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
About an hour before I found that scripture, the Lord showed me a vision of myself headed into a prison by way of a massive bridge. I saw a throng guards marching against me. I was afraid at first, but God coaxed me onward and as I walked, the guards parted and walked off the sides of the bridges. I walked into the prison and began to open cell doors. Some men walked free and some men stayed in their cells. God has called me to set men free.
Big Fish(ing) Expeditions
I have a house full of godly people this week. Everyone here loves God and has experienced his love in some form or fashion. Satan was out to destroy any and all fellowship tonight. He was here with stubbornness, idolatry, pride, fear, anger, bitterness, lust, etc. I went out on my front lawn and prayed in my Holy Spirit Prayer Language, casting out all manner of evil forces. And when the smoke of the spiritual, prayer battle cleared, I still had to walk back inside my house and have "the talks". Satan had brother against brother. Satan had mentor against student. Enough about him. God showed up tonight at Big Fish Ministries. Thank you Jesus for your love for each and every man and woman in this house. THANK YOU Holy Spirit. I felt the presence of God overwhelm me and consume the fire of the enemy descending upon this house. I praise you God, because we are about your work. We are about seeing gay men and women leave their bondage behind and cling to the truth of Jesus Christ. Lord we ask your blessing on the men and women who read these words. Let them know that they can take authority over their own homes and hearts. Father lead your people in the path that you have created for them. Father God, thank you for watching over us. Lead people to us. Bless the people that have been here. Father I submit and surrender to you every aspect of this house. May those who stand against it, be brought to ruin.
Holy Spirit wander the gay community and restore the lives of those men and women who are lost. Not because they are gay, but because they have been forgotten, ostracized, bullied, made fun of, fired, rebuked by stupid men, abused, left out, teased, shot, hurt, beaten, battered, cursed and shamed. Father I pray that every gay Christian would see the light of your grace, salvation, peace and truth. Father reveal, reveal, reveal. Cleanse their hearts and bind up the enemy's hand when it comes to suicide. We claim the lives for young gay men and women for the kingdom of Christ tonight Father. Lord, let every word of scripture that these young people and old people have ever heard THRIVE tonight. I pray for revival in the gay community. I pray for key and essential leaders of the gay agenda to succumb to the power of the Holy Spirit. Lord lead them to know that you love them.
Let the talents and abilities of Hollywood and gay men and women everywhere be used for your glory. I pray that you DAD would break the neck of every demon that has his hand around your gay sons and daughters tonight. Don't give them my story Lord. GIVE THEM YOURS! Write your name on the fabric of their hearts. Father let them forgive the churches, christians and parents and return to their first love. Father anoint these men and women for your service. Lord, let them be welcomed back into your presence and into good bible believing churches that will love them.
Jesus. You Rock. You do. Thank you. We deserve none of your anything, but you gave us your everything.
Holy Spirit we ask that you change hearts and minds tonight and every day after as the men and women of Southeast Asia read this. Lord flood the hearts of people in Cambodia with the truth of your gospel. Lord I ask that you continue to reach the men of Kazakhstan with your grace. Reveal the word to Iran and Iraq through your power. Holy Spirit, where there is no hope for those trapped in homosexuality and no words of truth and love, speak out of nothing into the hearts of the people in bondage.
Flood the Earth with Holy Spirit Power as it was once immersed and thoroughly drenched with water. Let the New Flood cleanse from sin and save a race doomed to die outside your loving and holy presence.
We welcome you!
Risky Business
I recently finished reading the book of Acts. While praying about what to read next, Romans came to mind. I felt led by God to start reading Romans. Acts was so uplifting I couldn’t wait to start. Turns out, it wasn’t God’s way of orchestrating a flowery, lovey-dovey exercise in biblical exhortation. God’s word for me for the moment? Rebuke! I’ve secretly been a bit of a pompous jerk. Maybe I was the only one who thought it was a secret. Why? Well, I can talk to anyone in my life about Jesus Christ, but when it comes to conveying my Christianity to my family, I clam up. I often view my family through “pain tinted” glasses. I’m not sure whether it’s their influence or my baggage that stifles me. I often respond to them like a timid, little boy. After all, the application or omission of all the “lessons” they taught me, have been lived out in a different “part of the world”. That “growth space” was necessary so I could attempt, fail, try again, fail again, try again and eventually succeed; then repeat.
No matter my age, my dad is always quick to correct, like when I was young. (Before I get a thousand rebukes from parents everywhere, I know that is something you will always do. It’s inevitable. Kinda like that bloaty gas you get after shot gunning four cans of free, tomato juice on a transatlantic flight. Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.) These days when my dad corrects, I often react defensively. Frustration wells up within me, like I haven’t felt since I was that powerless, voiceless, little boy. We all long to hear parents say: “Well done!” “Good Job!” or “I’m proud of you!”. They don’t correct because we’re colossal failures. They know what has worked for them. They want to help, be useful or they simply don’t want us to get hurt.
We still hate it but we accept correction from God a whole lot easier than we do from “fellow travelers”. That’s called Pride. As humble as I say I am or act, my pride is like Government Conspiracies; alive and well and great effort is made to conceal and sustain it. Pride keeps me from reaching for the lifeline when I’m sinking.
One of my greatest struggles IS a 35 year pornography addiction of mythological proportion. I fight the monster for a season. Log some victories. It reappears, stronger than before, having learned my habits and weaknesses. The pride of past victories renders me weak and trusting in my own strength. I retreat back into my “cave of suffering”, where I wallow around in self-pity and self-punishment. I want to pursue Jesus with a love and dedication that rivals my allegiance, love and dedication to pornography. I want to love Him enough to risk sharing a real, personal, ongoing battle with all of you. I want to risk having you say I am an honest jerk, rather than leading you to believe I’m awesome. To be real, confess my faults and to take my place alongside Paul as a big sinner, desperate for the Christ and wholly in need of grace. When it comes to Pornography and masturbation I won’t pretend to have it all together. I stand before God honest and shamed. I am not the man I was 14 years ago as I took those first bumbling steps out of a life of homosexuality. I have not arrived at the pearly gates either. I would rather risk losing face and take a hit to my pride, than to secretly die inside every time I slip off to my place of secret sin.
I believe we all can answer the same call as Paul in Romans 1:1. “Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God…” . The call of God in Romans 2, however, is one of repentance. I sensed that he was pointing his Holy, righteous, loving finger of conviction at Matthew Aaron Walker. A little disobedience is still disobedience. Obedience is the key.
Romans 2:1 You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. 2 Now we know that God’s judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. 3 So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God’s judgment? 4 Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness leads you toward repentance?
“Do you think you will escape God’s judgment?” That statement echoed inside my head like tormented screams in a canyon. Truth: God has plans for me. Reality: I can derail those plans. My goal for a wholesome, spirit led 2013 is honesty, humility, vigilance and being known. God says in 1 Corinthians 10:13 “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” God says in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.”
Feel free to wail against me, denounce me or take any manner of action you feel necessary. After the smoke clears and my wounds heal, let’s be prepared to walk the path of honesty and purity together as we traverse the next leg of the journey. I can’t promise I won’t fail again. I can promise honesty when I do. My greatest weaknesses will no longer determine my legacy. Jesus Christ will.
My prayer as we embark on our next adventure together comes from Psalms 31:4,7,10,14,17 & 23
Dear Jesus, Free me from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge. I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak. But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” Let me not be put to shame, O Lord, for I have cried out to you; but let the wicked be put to shame and lie silent in the grave. The Lord preserves the faithful, but the proud he pays back in full. Help me be a friend of God and an enemy of my pride. Amen!