All the Way Through
After all those years I could finally, I could lift my hands up and without doubt, without condemnation and without guilt worship the Lord! Not only did I feel free but the Spirit of God bore witness in me that I was free. It had been a long time and I had been through so many things, but God had brought me all the way through. The song Amazing Grace says "...through many dangers toils and snares I've already come..." I can look back and see that God has brought me through so many things. When the enemy would have sifted me as wheat, God spared my life so that I could give Him the praise.
For most people coming out of homosexuality, their freedom causes them to look back with spiritual eyes to see just how much danger they were in and how God had walked with them because he had a plan to bless them and make them whole. For me, it was no different. Its been two years since I left my homosexual identity behind and began walking with the Lord, but in order to tell you about my joy, I have to tell you the whole story of what the Lord brought me through.
We are family?
As a young boy I grew up up traveling around the United States . The reason we moved around so many times was because my father was in the Army. My mother was in school trying to better herself educationally and everything appeared to be normal in our family, but it wasn't. The warning signs about my sexuality were already showing up at an early age, but no one knew what to do about it.
. My mother's cousin told her one day that she had a homosexual friend and that I was going to be just like him. According to the scripture, our words can speak life or bring death I don't remember my mother rebuking what her cousin had said about me. I grew up in a small North Carolina town called Middlesex. Even the name seemed to suggest something ominious about my sexuality. While my father was in Korea, I went to live with my Grandmother. My grandmother always went to church and she took me along with her. I loved going because there was a lot of jumping and moving around which was fine with me because I loved to dance. As I got older I joined in the family choir.
Before I knew we were moving again. This time to Kentucky where my father was stationed. We were there for a couple of years then moved back to North Carolina. This time we lived with my aunt and her family of three boys. The sleeping arrangements were very cramped because the house was so small. I ended up sleeping on a pull out sofa in the living room.
As any little kid will do, I developed a habit of getting up and watching cartoons on television. One morning I woke up early and went into my counsins' room to see the cartoons. My 13 year old cousin slept in a bed alone. I was about 3 years old. I got up earlier than usual and went in to watch the TV, but my cousin laid next to me on the bed and pulled me close to him and began touching me. I laid there not knowing what to feel or what to do. Later that night, he woke me up and continued touching me again. Although I know now what he did, then I did not. After a while he instructed me to go and change my underclothes.
Things got even worse for me as he started to penetrate me which hurt me very much but I never said anything to my mother or father. Most times he would put his hand over my mouth while he molested me. The molestation by my cousin continued from age three until I was five years old.
As if my childhood couldn't be more terrible another male cousin also molested me after this incident.
My family finally found an apartment in Raleigh, NC. I'm not sure why, but my parents still drove back and forth to drop me off at my aunt's house. Sometimes I stayed overnight. During the summer, we always took family trips. Those were the happiest times of my life when we could just get away and have fun. But they were so short lived. One summer while at my aunt's house my secret relationship with my cousin escalated into violence. While everyone was outside, he demanded that I touch him. I responded that I would not do it and he slapped me in my face. It was the beginning of the end of that secret. The bruise left such a mark on my light colored skin, that when my parents came to check on me they asked me what happened. I told them the truth, but my cousin denied the real reason he hit me.
We left my aunt's house and went back to my Grandmother's house. At times I felt I was cursed; like there was some kind of sign that marked me for this trouble with my family members. The same thing begin happening with my uncle. But there were some changes. Slowly, I had begun to accept and even desire the sexual attention from men. My uncle showed me pornography before he would molest me.
Moving, but not away
My father reenlisted in the Army and we moved a thousand miles away to California. We didn't know anyone there, but it wasn't long before some of the neighborhood boys picked up on what was in me. I always liked to play baseball, football, nintendo and ride my bike. By this time I was seven and my father was always in and out or gone for periods of time. He would tell my mother that he was with his friends, but she seemed to know there was something else going on. Eventually, some of the boys began asking me if I was "gay." One of them asked me to have sex with him and I did. We had moved but not away from the sexual confusion that was now part of my life.
At the neighborhood playground one day one of the boys asked me again if I was gay. I still didn't know what the word meant but somehow I knew that's what I was. I told the boys I was gay. They went to my house and told my mother that I said I was gay. When she talked to me she was very angry and asked me what did gay mean. I told her I didn't know. She responded that I did know. It was then that I told her all the things my cousin and uncle had done to me.
By this time in my life I knew a lot about sex. I equated maleness to sex. I secretly watched the porn videos my father had around the house and had sexual encounters with boys around my neighborhood. For all practical purposes I was out of control, the fulfillment of what my mother's friend had said about me when I was just a little boy.
In 1991, we left California and moved to Florida. Within one week of moving there, kids at school began calling me faggot, sissy and punk...all of the usual names. I was afraid to walk home alone because the boys would follow me and try to beat me up. The problems in my life escalated.
Down a frightening road and into the arms of God
In 1994 I went back to North Carolina to visit my Grandmother and got saved at her church. I felt so good inside I would shout and dance when I went to the services. But I kept doing the things I was doing. No one told me that I couldn't be a Christian and a homosexual. I joined a community gospel choir and to my surprise most --if not all-- of the men were homosexual. I started experimenting with girls and eventually impregnated one of them. I began watching more porn and masturbating constantly. My life was just one, big sex act. In 1998, my mother confronted me about my homosexuality because she saw me with a man whom she knew to be homosexual. I simply lied and denied it.
The things I did and the consequences are too many for me to mention and too shameful for me to recall, but I needed a change in my life. I had an experience with Christ but things got worse in my life not better. The clubbing, gay chat lines and church kept me in a vicious cycle of irony. Some of the same people that were preaching in church on Sunday had been clubbing with me on Saturday night. I wanted to "come out" because I felt I was ready for everyone to accept me as a gay man. I had plans to go to "black pride" in DC and Atlanta, but it seems like everytime God frustrated my plans. How lower could I get? The Lord was speaking to me, but I continued doing what I wanted to do. I started dating a guy and he turned me on to smoking weed. One night I smoked so much my body went numb.
As strange as it might sound I started thanking God and repented for what I had done. I went to the ER but they said they could not do anything because I was so high. They sent me to a room where again I prayed and asked God not to let me die so that I could do the work he wanted me to do. I didn't know if God was listening to me or not. My blood pressure was 211/189. My heart rate was 156. But God stepped in a gave me mercy in the midst of my crazy situation.
The doctor came in and told me I could go home. I left and immediately called my mother. She began praising God over the phone and I cried. I packed my clothes and moved out from my lover. The Lord delivered me that night two years ago. Since that time I have fought to walk upright before God and live free. I could have been swept away and my life ended in tragedy, but God brought me through it all. His mercy, grace and faithfulness to me when I didn't deserve it amazes me.
Today I am a member of Fountain of Life of Central Florida and I am a free child of God. Finally, I can lift my hands without wrath and doubting and praise God because of who He is and what He is able to do.
