“For change to be authentic, must it be absolute?”

Our current culture has become very ambiguous when it talks about sexual orientation.  Is it fixed or fluid?  It depends on whom you ask.  One cultural icon claims that we are “Born This Way”.  But another celebrity announces they have left their same-sex partner to enter into a heterosexual marriage.  Those who are challenged by this revelation will scurry to clarify that the person was actually bi-sexual all along.  Yet, the concept of change is never acknowledged.  When it comes to sexual orientation, our culture can perceive “change” as a betrayal or rejection of who they believe we truly are.

Change is the act of making or becoming different.  People change in various ways every day.  However, we must know those changes may not be absolute or complete.  Does this mean they haven’t changed?  Of course not.  We recognize and applaud the incremental stages of transformation in people’s lives and understand that some changes may never be fully realized this side of heaven.  I may recognize that I need to change when it comes to pride in my life and that will be a process.  However, I know I will never fully eradicate pride in this lifetime.  Am I still defined as a prideful man or am I a man who wrestles with pride realizing that I must depend on God’s grace each day to walk in humility?  After years of allowing the Lord to transform my heart and learn newer levels of humility, am I to discount God’s work in my life simply because pride rears it’s ugly head from time to time?  God forbid.

When we claim that God has done a transformational work in our lives regarding homosexuality, this does not necessarily mean the elimination or even the diminishing of same-sex attractions.  If sexual orientation is the dominant direction of sexual attractions, can that “dominant” direction change?  For some people, yes.  For others, this may not be the case; they may still have varying degrees of same-sex attraction.  But does this mean they haven’t experienced change?  If you answer yes, then I wonder if change is possible in any area of life.

When we truly surrender our lives to Christ, it is impossible for us not to be transformed.  But this transformation must be of His design and not based on our desire.  God sets the priority in determining where and when He will work in each area of our lives and we must allow Him to work according to His purpose. Transformation encompasses the whole person and not just a component and it will ultimately affect our:

Identity – Christ renews our minds to embrace His identity and leave behind our gay identity.  I am not a gay Christian, a gay celibate Christian, an ex-gay, or a former homosexual.  I am a Christian.  Solely identified with Christ and nothing else.  God has changed my perspective and I now know who I am.  I am my Father’s son.

Maturity – God has changed the areas of emotional wounding and false perceptions of others and myself.  The toxic lens which I viewed life and relationships has been radically altered and I now have the capacity to see these things in the light of Christ.  I am no longer consistently ruled by my emotions or imprisoned in relentless navel-gazing.  God has changed me and is continuing to change my mind and emotions so that I can be used for His purpose.

Spiritual Walk – My relationship with Christ is no longer conditional on His meeting my needs and wants.  I ultimately made a choice to follow Him and be obedient to His word “even if” He never took away my same-sex desires.  My relationship with Christ, which was based on countless years of bargaining with Him about my sexuality, has now changed into a relationship in which I can find contentment and rest.  His grace now enables me to walk in obedience to His commands.

There is one other type of absolutism that should be mentioned.  There are believers who would say there should not be a “struggle” when it comes to our sexuality.  To acknowledge this would seemingly dilute the power of Christ in a person’s life.  To that I would simply ask, “How does that philosophy apply in other areas of life?”  God is just as concerned about gossip and bearing false witness.  How many of us still battle with wanting to share a “prayer concern” about a co-worker with some of our colleagues? Every day presents some temptation with which we must contend.

Is change possible?  Yes!  Is it perfect? Not on this side of heaven.  While various behaviors may change on the surface, this is not the core of change. Change happens when Christ transforms our hearts so that we can become more like him.  These other traits are simply reflections of what is transpiring within.  Has God changed my sexuality?  Yes, but it is not perfect or absolute.  I don’t believe any man can claim perfection in this area.  But God has changed me and shown me that his change involves every aspect of who I am.  And in that sense, His change has been absolute.

We’ve grown so secure and comfortable in simply getting in the car, driving 15 minutes to pick up food we didn’t have to grow, harvest, or feed. All we have to do is choose from a gamut of options and simply put it in our cart. The only work involved is carrying the grocery bags to the car and into our houses. We don’t have to worry. Everything is at our fingertips. But what if that changed? What if we had to fend for ourselves?

Some would give up and starve in hopelessness. Others would give in to the carnal flesh, fighting others for the resources in stores that would quickly deplete. There would be fewer and fewer still who would be prepared to survive self-sufficiently. They are the ones that tend to live much longer and lead others to survival. But what would happen in a time of relational, emotional, or spiritual apocalypse?

We choose the easy way so often. My generation (Millennials), especially, is looking for a quick and easy fix to any problem. We’ve grown up in a point-and-click society. We’re easily bored and constantly need stimulation (thanks smartphones!). Instead of training and preparing for the deep, trench-like valleys of life, we coast on the easy and quick—leaving most of us in the categories of hopeless and dying or fighting looters in a personal “apocalypse”.

As with survival in a post-apocalyptic world, training and knowledge are tools absolutely necessary in a personal devastation. I’m no guru when it comes to survival skills (hence the growing list of survival skills books on my Amazon wish list), but I would speculate one of the first things you would do is take an inventory of what you have and make note of the essentials you need. Then from that, you plan out a strategy for obtaining the missing essentials, hunting, where you’re going to stay, what weapons you need, and so on.

In times of prosperity we need to live vigilantly for those times of hardship. When I lost my job over a year ago I had become comfortable and dependent on too many things outside of God. So when the devastation of losing financial security and direction happened, I was a reactive bloke and not a prepared survivalist. I teetered on the hopelessness and old patterns of wanting to feed the carnal flesh. In that time I realized I had lost focus and wasn’t prepared for devastation.

Life is filled with mountains and the lowest of the low valleys. We must embrace that life isn’t going to be easy all the time. As I wrote about recently, we need a heart that’s desperate for God, His righteousness, and strength. We become prepared survivalists when we train through the word, living each moment in the presence of God, pursuing Him and depending on Him ultimately. When those times of personal crisis come up, you’ll be prepared and equipped. Come to those times with a plan of action and not a reactive laziness. The good thing for us is that even though we plan for and are proactive in times of suffering, we don’t survive on our own. We’ve got the best survivalist with us who can handle any situation and gives us only that with which we can handle.

Live on survivalists!

The turmoil I felt inside was intense and I desperately wanted God to be pleased with me.  I began to branch out theologically and eventually found theology that seemed to be a 180-degree turn from the behavior-based theology of my youth.  In reality, though, the new theology was about behavior, too.  Instead of condemning certain behaviors, it celebrated new behaviors.  And it opened the door to a new way to be a Christian that seemed to fit the feelings that so dominated my life.  And, armed with that new freedom, I moved out.

It was an interesting time in my life. My old friends, for the most part, were quick to tell me that my behavior and decisions were wrong biblically.  Some questioned my salvation.  While I had always been very eager to please in my relationships, my resolve was strong and I felt liberated and powerful.  Not surprisingly, my old relationships became full of strife and disunity, and I rejected my old friends and pulled away from my family. Everyone assumed that I was motivated by my desire to behave sinfully, but what I really craved was the freedom to be real, and to no longer hide.  The wreckage of past relationships was a loss I was willing to endure. It seemed as if, for the first time in my life, I was truly being honest.

In my mind, my family and old friends were simply bent on manipulating me to do what they wanted me to do.  Most phone calls and letters ended with a plea to change my wicked ways, or a statement that what I was doing was wrong in God’s eyes and hurtful to the people in my life.  They seemed to validate what I had come to believe about their love – it was conditional on me doing the right thing.  But one day I got a special letter from one of those people.  He had been one of the friends who had previously confronted me and challenged the life I was living.  His letter was long, and I skipped right to the end to find his admonition against the sinful way I was living.  But it was not there.  I read the letter several times.  It was full of news and funny stories and questions about how I was doing.  And he ended it with the five letters with which we had always ended our communication (a nod to the silliness of junior high) – LYLAB.  Love you like a brother. He didn’t chastise me or challenge me in the letter.  It was just a letter from a friend. I knew he still did not agree with me, but I wondered if maybe he did really love me, no matter what I was doing.

Around the same time, I received a note from my grandmother.  My family was thoroughly white-washed.  Real issues and outward sin were strongly avoided and hidden. My grandmother had never driven a car or written a check or paid a bill or flown in a plane. She was a very simple woman and her note was equally simple.  She said “I am praying for you, and you are always welcome in Nanny’s house.”  I wept at the thought of being welcomed into my sweet Nanny’s home, free from condemnation (and full of the sweet smell of her fried chicken).  Her note, and the letter from my friend, began to soften the protective barrier I had built around my heart.

Months later I was still doing life. I had developed new friends who were loving, accepting, helpful, caring and fun.  But while my old, legalistic religion had left me feeling empty, my new ‘free’ religion left me feeling empty, too. I was still missing something.  I may have been saved from hell, but my life as I was living it was no more abundant than it had ever been. I was not afraid.  I felt no guilt.  I felt no shame.  But still, I felt empty.

Ironically, as the guilt and shame in my life subsided, I began to seek God in a different, more open way. In that process, He opened my eyes to something that my behavior-focused heart had never seen before.  I read a book that did not focus on behavior at all.  Instead, it showed me in vivid detail and imagery the magnitude of how much Jesus loved me.  I am not sure I had ever really believed that truly unconditional love was possible.  The Bible suddenly began to give me hope for life, rather than fear of death. My friend’s letter and my Nanny’s note had sparked that possibility in me, but as I began to really explore Christ, I saw true unconditional love. I saw how He understood me, and how He wanted to connect with me. I saw Him interacting with all sorts of outcasts who were in the middle of their sin.  I saw Him standing up for them while they were still dirty. I saw Him unafraid to be seen with them, even while the religious people questioned Him and condemned His friends.  And I saw Him loving me right where I was.

He did not threaten me with hell because of my behavior. He did not repeatedly point out my sinful flaws.  He did not ‘convict’ me of my sin.  He just loved me.  And as I sat with Him and as His perfect love began to heal deep, hidden hurts in me, I sensed that He was calling me to go home.  In my newfound place of safety and honesty with Him, I argued with Him. How could I do that?  How would that work? I wasn’t sure I felt anything for my wife.  How could I go back to the Christian world that had almost destroyed me?  With each question I threw at Him, He calmly answered me, deep in my soul, with three words: “I LOVE YOU.  I LOVE YOU.  I LOVE YOU.”  And as He reaffirmed his love for me, I began to see that He was not sending me out alone, but was willing to walk with me, every step of the way. He didn’t offer to walk with me if I checked off a list of behavioral modifications.  He simply loved me.  As it says in Romans, His kindness led me to repentance.

As His love wooed me home, I began to see things in my life that needed to change.  It wasn’t behavior modification done out of fear or under pressure…it was me responding to His love.  Some things were obvious immediately.  Other things surfaced as I grew deeper into relationship with Him.  Things continue to surface today – things I just never noticed before.  Something will surely surface tomorrow. Yet He continues to love me – flaws and all.

Sometimes, even after all I have received, I forget the power of Christ’s love.  I, too, love manipulatively – hoping that my love will cause someone to do something different in their life.  My love for people often has an ‘if-then’ motivation. If I love them, then they will…fill in the blank.  I think many people manipulate under the guise of love.  But God has not called us to love to get a result.  He simply calls us to love – to love with no strings attached.  Our love does not change people.  HIS love changes people.

It is so hard not to focus on what the “love” might accomplish!  Even as I write this, I want to pen those hopes.  But I will seek to simply love others because He calls me to love them, and trust that God will do His part in His way and in His time – as He has faithfully, patiently and lovingly done in me, and as He faithfully, patiently and lovingly continues to do in me.  Who is God calling you to love today?

Homosexuality has superseded religion as the most divisive issue discussed in our world today.  Rarely is a discussion had without deeply passionate people sharing deeply personal stories and convictions.  Add to that the nuances of language and the diverse definitions of particular words that continue to evolve and you can find yourself in a tangled and complex mess.

Some Christians avoid the conversation altogether.  I don’t think that is always helpful, but I understand why one would want to “drop out” of the dialogue.  As we contend for divine clarity, the discussions can so easily become overwhelming.  Being overwhelmed leads to frustration that can unintentionally turn off and turn away people sincerely looking for answers and help.

On a daily basis I can be found thinking and praying about all of this. Some laud me as an “expert” on homosexuality; I am really just an expert at needing a Savior.  God has given me a platform to share about His Good News through my story and the story of countless others.  There are days that I simply add to the confusing nature of this discussion and days that I think I contribute to simplifying it by authentically pointing people to Christ.  The latter is my greatest desire.

In January I had the privilege of participating on a panel at the Gay Christian Network Conference here in Orlando.  Leslie and another couple from Exodus sat in the audience of 450 people listening as I was grilled for about 3 hours.  Some comments I made there have ratcheted up the discussion on multiple levels.  All sides are clamoring for a way to associate, disassociate, credit or discredit what I said, what I believe and the organization that I lead.  One thing is certain, more conversation is needed and I am excited about being a part of it over the long haul. 

The two controversial comments I made are:

1. I called a group of people who identify as gay or lesbian (some active, some celibate) brothers and sisters in Christ.
2. 99.9% of the people I know have not changed their sexual orientation.

These views don’t represent a change in what I believe.  While there is some nuance to my answers and statements from the recent and distant past that might seem contradictory, I have been increasingly clear since 2006 about my beliefs regarding “change” and “eternal security,” which I prefer to label “sonship.” I made the statements at GCN in an effort to be plain about my beliefs. I also wanted to acknowledge that in the past Exodus has made statements about change, which have confused and, at times, unintentionally misled those who support us and those who don’t.

Change

At salvation, Christ gives us a completely new heart, yet our flesh remains the same frail one that we were born, and will die, with. Because our bodies remain human, temptation and struggle in this life are assured.  My temptations certainly aren’t the same today as they were 20 years ago, related to same-sex attraction, but I still have temptations and struggles.  My decisions based upon those temptations are night and day from what they were 20 years ago.

When it comes to sexual orientation discussions, I am a layman and my beliefs are anecdotal, not expressed in scientific terms.  I have met a lot of people who have experienced SSA and yet only know one or two women who say that they no longer experience any SSA whatsoever. I cannot speak for others who say that temptation or attraction don’t equal orientation.  I tend to link them all together and that is where that 99.9%, non-scientifc/anecdotal/experiential statement comes from. Thus, I believe that complete orientation change occurs very rarely. For us to have integrity, I think it is important to acknowledge this. But for a Christian wanting to live a life in alignment with Christ’s teachings orientation is only one part of a larger picture.

I do not believe that we have to be paralyzed by our struggles or that one certain variation of struggle invalidates growth or potential in areas impacted by them.  I got married in January 1998 because I fell madly in love with Leslie.  While my friends and brothers who don’t have SSA might have initially noticed their girlfriends or wives primarily for their sexual appeal, I first noticed Leslie because she was radiant.  Her smile and laugh were intoxicating, her beauty without comparison, her self-confidence was deeply attractive and her initial unwillingness to acknowledge me was a challenge I couldn’t resist.  Looking back I was probably in love at first sight, but I know I wasn’t in lust at first sight and for that I am very thankful.  At no time in our marriage have I objectified her in a way that would demean her sexually or measured our deep, ever growing love for one another simply by the sexual expression we share.  She is the object of my husbandly affection in a way that no one else deserves or receives.  It isn’t difficult staying faithful to my wife.  I purpose to be devoted to Christ first and then to my wife followed by the family He has blessed us with.

I have SSA but that reality is only relevant to me personally and those with whom I am in deep relationship. I choose to be faithful to my relationship with Christ and the truth that my Heavenly Father’s creative intent for human sexual expression was for one man and one woman in the bonds of heterosexual marriage.  For me, anything else falls short and is to be resisted.  Because I experience some level of SSA I monitor what stimuli I receive.  The same is true of my relationship with other things that have consumed me in the past from food to materialism.

When it comes to orientation, attractions, desires, feelings or whatever word you choose to use, I think very little about them. They are what they are.  I know them.  I understand them.  I know how to live with them.  I also know a lot of the things that cause them to manifest.  SSA isn’t a greater struggle or more concerning to me than other things in my life.  Again, they just are.  I guess that is why I have no problem talking about them, admitting them and feeling really great about myself even though I have them.  They do not define me.

Leslie isn’t threatened by my SSA, either.  She knows how I feel about my relationship with Christ first and how I feel about her followed by our kids and so on.  She isn’t a surrogate for sexual acting out.  She is my treasure and the object of my deepest human longings.

Have I experienced change in my life?  To be sure.  And to be clear, the change is primarily a matter of seeking to live out what I value most. It is centered on who I am in Christ and flows outward in a way that is specific to me and doesn’t contradict what the Bible teaches.  The same was true for me as a single, celibate Christian man.

Sonship

Leslie and I are adoptive parents. Because of that very personal experience, God has ingrained in me the parallel of His adoption of us, His children, through salvation. I love all of Romans 8, but for purposes of this letter, verses 38-39 (NAS):

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I believe that if a person has accepted the free gift of salvation, then the gift is irrevocable.  So, when someone says that they are a born again believer, I address them as a brother or sister in Christ.  As an adoptive father, my children are irrevocably mine.  They may disown me, stop talking to me and sin against me, but that does not change the fact that they are mine and always will be.  I believe the same is true of God with His adopted children.

Thus, I believe that people who sin (all of us) can be Christian if they have accepted that free gift of salvation. If someone ever knew Christ, they still do. There are some who question this or believe differently who have criticized my statement at the GCN conference. Here we will have to agree to disagree.

Identity plays a role in this, as well.  As it says in 2 Corinthians 5:17:

Those who are in Christ are a new creation.  The old is gone and the new has come.

New refers to quality unrelated to time.  At salvation we became instantly new.  Our ways may not all immediately change.  Some of our ways may never change. Struggle is inevitable.  Our identity, whether we acknowledge it or not, has absolutely changed and is no longer tied to our past, present or future behavior or how we may or may not choose to label ourselves.

Case in point: the comments I made last month at GCN do not represent a shift in what I believe about “those who are in Christ”.  It is very likely that there were non-Christians at GCN just as there are at all of our churches on any given Sunday.  I was there to listen, acknowledge hurt and share what I believe Christ is all about: reconciling us to Himself.  I didn’t go to pronounce judgment.  That isn’t my right.

The people who attended GCN often hear gross misrepresentations about our ministry but I must acknowledge that some have experienced real trauma in ministries (including Exodus), churches and counseling settings in the name of Christ and change.  I do believe we owe it to them to specifically address their concerns, make amends where applicable and help them heal.  That will always include humility, but never a disregard for the biblical foundation that Exodus is built upon or a diminishment of the incredible things that happen daily in and through the ministries of Exodus.  But as I told a group of our leaders recently: If you found out your favorite restaurant had numerous food poisoning complaints you’d think twice about going back no matter how good the food or the service.

There is always room for greater clarity as I navigate what has become a semantic minefield. It is challenging to share in sound bites the complexities involved in a ministry likes ours.  I am the public face of 266 organizations that are collectively made up of thousands of people.  While we are all under one umbrella, not everything I say or believe is what another would say or believe. Please continue to pray for me and for all of Exodus as we seek to share the abounding grace of our Lord and the truth of Christ that truly sets us all free from the law of sin and death.

Back when I was coming of age, I was weird. Still kind of am but … really … I was so.very.weird. I was the male version of Ally Sheedy’s character in The Breakfast Club. And if you think that is a weird comparison to make … welcome to my world.

For some reason being “weird” is a badge of honor today. Well, it’s only a badge of honor if you are the right kind of weird. And all my fellow weirdos know exactly what I mean. I can assure you, even twenty plus years ago, I wasn’t the right kind of weird. I was the “what-the-hell-do-we-do-with-this-guy?” kind of weird.

In high school I had a horrible time. I was shut down at home in that I never felt like I was free to talk so … I didn’t. I never felt free to emote or be creative … so … I didn’t. When I went to school I didn’t have social skills or communication skills necessary to survive the teeming wilds of the High School Jungle of emotional tempests and complications. Of course teens being teens … I was shut down even further. I had a few friends but all I can remember is a constant sense of being inferior, insecure and really oppressed from the inside out.

And then there was the ever-present fear for my physical safety. Inwardly I believed I was gay, outwardly I had effeminate mannerisms. While I was shut down, I couldn’t escape my non-verbal emoting through body language. I was made fun of or threatened all the time. When I did speak up my insecurities often reinforced the notion that I was weak and provided ongoing fodder for others to make fun of.  Click here to read more.

I rattled my brain for a bit until I finally understood. I like the authenticity they live in together. One’s pupils turn black and fangs protrude from his gums when the thirst for blood stirs him. Another transforms into a savage wolf during full moons. Another makes lights flicker and walls tremble in the house while remaining invisible. Despite their monstrosities they desperately strive to be human, while being there for one another during times of supernatural outbursts or morphing. Through their desires for a normal life, we have a clear picture of authentic community, accountability, and denying the flesh. All of these things resonate with my own life.

I love being in community with honest, raw people who live authentically where they are in their life journey. Something that used to be so appealing about the gay community was that people genuinely lived life together. The baggage you had was shoveled into a pile with everyone else’s. No one had to put on a façade. No one judged what someone else was going through. Even in the midst of darkness I was free to be where I was.

I’ve recently transitioned out of a church small group. Looking back, I see we had a lot of depth, but I also realize we didn’t have a pile of mangled, personal baggage to work through together. There was always an invisible line we couldn’t cross. As I look for a new community I remember the times when I was in the thick of battle: struggling so much with temptation that I had to live a life of raw honesty in order to find freedom.

Since we live in reality and not fantasy, our problems don’t show themselves through dagger-like canines, invisibility, or morphing bodies. We can keep up appearances without any exterior consequences. Being vulnerable and honest about our spiritual and emotional place in life seems to be optional unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I think that’s why so many people go back to their addictions. They can’t live authentically in whatever place of life they’re in.

Back to the show, it surprisingly doesn’t have all the expected glorification of carnality. There’s no positive or erotic lure to the main characters’ “monstrosities” (granted there are some sensual scenes scattered throughout). Aidan, the vampire, hates his carnal flesh and survives by feeding off blood bags from a hospital. The less he “feeds” on humans, the less desire he has to attack others. Josh, the werewolf, locks himself into the hospital basement or in the house during full moons—keeping himself from harming anyone. Sally, the ghost, tries to figure out how to live on as a spirit until her “door” to the afterlife reveals itself. Aidan and Josh are living counter-culturally together. Aidan has vampire friends tempting him to come back and be his “true” self, and Josh meets another werewolf that wants him to embrace the wolf inside. Yet both stand together with a common goal—deny their fleshly nature to be more like humans, and Sally encourages them in that.

Even with their different struggles and cultural differences (vampires view werewolves as animals to be kept for sport—a lesser class of beings), Josh and Aidan live life together to support one another in being “human”. Yet even in times of weakness they are gracious to each other through their personal experiential knowledge. It would be so much easier if our temptations, struggles, and sins were as physically obvious as a vampire and werewolf. Then authentic community and helping one another regardless of any struggle would be attainable.

I think there is a lesson to be learned in this show. We, the church, have to be more open and embrace one another in the midst of our personal process. No one is in the same place of healing. And we’re not all going to grow the same. We can’t be a community anymore that causes people to run away and back to old places of safety because they can’t be who they are presently. Praise God I had a community of buddies who got real and were raw in honesty with me as I was with them. They made me want the gay community less and less. I was able to truly do life—trudging through mud and all—with these brothers in Christ.

In the face of our differing struggles we were able to stand together, fighting against the same flesh and brokenness of this world. It doesn’t matter what we deal with or where we are coming from. We fight the carnal, fleshly nature—all of us. Why not own it together, and live out our lives honestly and with integrity? The broken authenticity of one can be encouragement and healing to another. We can fight our “monstrosities” together and find freedom through the power of Christ. But we have to be real and stand together. We pursue Christ and all His promises while acknowledging and owning our humanity—being human. That is where freedom comes from—the freedom to be me in the process of becoming more.

When I was a kid I loved Indiana Jones so much I wanted to be an archaeologist. I longed for the adventure, excitement, and death-defying action of Harrison Ford’s character. Whenever Jones went searching for a valued item he always ran into problems. He had to fight for what he sought and came dangerously close to death (or at least a lot of pain) several times. The days of wanting to be an archaeologist passed as the reality sunk in that most days my job wouldn’t look like Indie’s. But I still long for that adventure. Adventure doesn’t require a bullwhip, Smith and Wesson handgun, or heavy-duty boots. All it requires is a readiness to risk on our part.

Are you in search of something? Are you willing to fight for it? Are you willing to risk your life for it? When we accept Christ as Savior we are given the Holy Spirit—and there is a “no holds barred” approach when it comes to the Spirit and risk. After all, exponential growth happens when we take a chance. I wouldn’t be who I am today had I not heeded the Holy Spirit’s multiple calls to take risk. And you know what? Life is so much more fun when doing so. Admittedly risk can produce ironclad butterflies that spastically flap around in your stomach temporarily, but the fear that evaporates, the wisdom gained, and the maturing relationship with God that occurs lasts for your whole life.

Risking is scary, but God loves us too much to allow us to coast on “mundane highway”. He gives us the option—are we willing to give up control of the life we think is safe to the One who is truly in control, or reject His leading because we know what’s best (or easy) for our lives? When He calls us to risk, it has to be for our good. From my own experience, that is absolutely true.

Even though I’ve seen the fruitfulness in risk taking, I still hesitate at times. Sometimes it seems too painful. But I’ve learned that for me, risk is a way to prune the bad, deceiving fruit. It’s also a reminder of whom I am dependent upon. Ultimately, our Creator knows what’s best for each of us. I will live a much freer life when I submit to the risky business of the Holy Spirit. I will be more of myself when I realize that keeping my emotions, heart, mind, and body safe will never spawn growth in me. Protecting myself will only stifle growth and truly hurt me in the end.

What is your quest? Is it to become the person God created you to be? It won’t happen if you don’t reach out and take it. You’ll have to jump over a few fire pits, make your way through waste deep mud, possibly dart through a room of venomous snakes, and maybe even get close to falling off a ledge. But the Holy Spirit will be leading the way, holding your hand, and making sure you get through your risky undertaking. Risk is an adventure you never do on your own. He is with you, rooting for you, and excited to see you grow more into His creative masterpiece through each risk you take.

I rattled my brain for a bit until I finally understood. I like the authenticity they live in together. One’s pupils turn black and fangs protrude from his gums when the thirst for blood stirs him. Another transforms into a savage wolf during full moons. Another makes lights flicker and walls tremble in the house while remaining invisible. Despite their monstrosities they desperately strive to be human, while being there for one another during times of supernatural outbursts or morphing. Through their desires for a normal life, we have a clear picture of authentic community, accountability, and denying the flesh. All of these things resonate with my own life.

I love being in community with honest, raw people who live authentically where they are in their life journey. Something that used to be so appealing about the gay community was that people genuinely lived life together. The baggage you had was shoveled into a pile with everyone else’s. No one had to put on a façade. No one judged what someone else was going through. Even in the midst of darkness I was free to be where I was.

I’ve recently transitioned out of a church small group. Looking back, I see we had a lot of depth, but I also realize we didn’t have a pile of mangled, personal baggage to work through together. There was always an invisible line we couldn’t cross. As I look for a new community I remember the times when I was in the thick of battle: struggling so much with temptation that I had to live a life of raw honesty in order to find freedom.

Since we live in reality and not fantasy, our problems don’t show themselves through dagger-like canines, invisibility, or morphing bodies. We can keep up appearances without any exterior consequences. Being vulnerable and honest about our spiritual and emotional place in life seems to be optional unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I think that’s why so many people go back to their addictions. They can’t live authentically in whatever place of life they’re in.

Back to the show, it surprisingly doesn’t have all the expected glorification of carnality. There’s no positive or erotic lure to the main characters’ “monstrosities” (granted there are some sensual scenes scattered throughout). Aidan, the vampire, hates his carnal flesh and survives by feeding off blood bags from a hospital. The less he “feeds” on humans, the less desire he has to attack others. Josh, the werewolf, locks himself into the hospital basement or in the house during full moons—keeping himself from harming anyone. Sally, the ghost, tries to figure out how to live on as a spirit until her “door” to the afterlife reveals itself. Aidan and Josh are living counter-culturally together. Aidan has vampire friends tempting him to come back and be his “true” self, and Josh meets another werewolf that wants him to embrace the wolf inside. Yet both stand together with a common goal—deny their fleshly nature to be more like humans, and Sally encourages them in that.

Even with their different struggles and cultural differences (vampires view werewolves as animals to be kept for sport—a lesser class of beings), Josh and Aidan live life together to support one another in being “human”. Yet even in times of weakness they are gracious to each other through their personal experiential knowledge. It would be so much easier if our temptations, struggles, and sins were as physically obvious as a vampire and werewolf. Then authentic community and helping one another regardless of any struggle would be attainable.

I think there is a lesson to be learned in this show. We, the church, have to be more open and embrace one another in the midst of our personal process. No one is in the same place of healing. And we’re not all going to grow the same. We can’t be a community anymore that causes people to run away and back to old places of safety because they can’t be who they are presently. Praise God I had a community of buddies who got real and were raw in honesty with me as I was with them. They made me want the gay community less and less. I was able to truly do life—trudging through mud and all—with these brothers in Christ.

In the face of our differing struggles we were able to stand together, fighting against the same flesh and brokenness of this world. It doesn’t matter what we deal with or where we are coming from. We fight the carnal, fleshly nature—all of us. Why not own it together, and live out our lives honestly and with integrity? The broken authenticity of one can be encouragement and healing to another. We can fight our “monstrosities” together and find freedom through the power of Christ. But we have to be real and stand together. We pursue Christ and all His promises while acknowledging and owning our humanity—being human. That is where freedom comes from—the freedom to be me in the process of becoming more.

I was thinking about this as I ran recently. I have lived in Midland off and on since 1991 and have run the same basic running route all these years. When you run the same streets five days a week, you notice certain exterior aspects of people’s lives. A while back I was running past a familiar house and noticed the home-owner sitting behind the glass door in a wheelchair. Her lap was covered in a blanket and she was just staring outside. I remember seeing this lady from years back unloading groceries from her car, talking outside to a neighbor, and weeding her flower beds. My first thought was one of dread at being in that place someday, my life essentially over.

But the next day I noticed her again and noticed that she was watching me, and a new thought hit me. In the same way I look at college kids or new college graduates as full of promise, maybe she looks that way at me. I wondered if she was thinking….”If I had known what it would feel like to be 85, would I have acted differently when I was 45?” Would she challenge me to be sensitive to the potential ahead of me in the same way I would challenge a 25 year old?

We are encouraged in the Bible to forget what lies behind and to reach forward to what lies ahead. That means not focusing on the past, whether the past involved good things, bad things, successes, failures, dashed hopes or regrets…and instead focusing on what lies ahead. That is easier said than done, but the reality is that I have a lot of life to live. Even if I die tomorrow, I have a lot of life to live today. If I spend today regretting what is behind and worrying about the unknown that lies ahead, I will miss the life that I have to live today. What a waste that would be!

Today may be the day that my encouraging word gives someone else the courage to keep pressing on. Today may be the day that a door opens my life to a dream I thought was dead. Today may be the day that time with my kids becomes one of their life-time memories. Today may be the day that I teach something invaluable to someone younger or learn something invaluable from someone older. Today may be the day that defines my course from this day forward. Today may be the day that what I know in my head becomes real in my heart. I don’t want to miss today.

There will always be someone who looks at me and thinks I am old, and always someone who looks at me and thinks I am young. If I worry about either I am wasting time. I have life to live today, and I plan to live it. I want to look someday, from a wheelchair in a doorway, and see a 40ish guy running down the street and think “Man, am I glad for the life I lived. I ran – and loved – and served – and worked – and lived. And until God takes me home, I have life to live today.” And then maybe I’ll yell for someone to open that door and move me outside!

Growing up as the son of a preacher, I faithfully attended church services.  During my teenage years I realized that I struggled with same-sex attractions, but sadly the only time that homosexuality was mentioned at my church, it was always referenced as an abomination.  At the end of many sermons, an altar call was given for those wanting prayer. Ironically, the hymn Just As I Am was often sung (all 37 verses), but I didn’t feel like there was a place for me. As a result, I told no one about my struggle and grew hopeless about finding help.

Out of desperation, in my senior year of high school I began seeing a Christian counselor without my parent’s knowledge.  Unfortunately, the counselor knew my dad and ended up calling him and telling him about my struggle with same-sex attractions.  That was not helpful.

I began living a double life, actively involved in church activities while dating men around town.  In the early 90′s my job was transferred to Atlanta.  I didn’t know anyone there.  Alone, I realized I was at a crossroad; I could choose to live openly as a homosexual or choose to follow Christ and find help. In the 80’s I had heard about Exodus International while listening to a Moody Broadcast in which Frank Worthen was being interviewed.  So I sought out and found an Exodus ministry  – actually traveling 100 mile each way to attend the weekly meetings.  The ministry was an invaluable resource in helping me on my journey towards holiness.

Eventually, I had an opportunity to attend an Exodus Freedom Conference at Asbury College with my group leaders.  It was an evening service in the chapel filled with 600 men and women who have struggled with unwanted same-sex attractions.  The worship leaders began singing the song, It Is Well With My Soul.  Being a preacher’s kid and a singer, I knew all of the verses by heart. I started singing the bass part, adding my voice to the sound.  As we were singing the third verse:

My sin, O the bliss of this glorious thought,

My sin not in part but the whole,

Is nailed the cross, and I bear it not more…

The Holy Spirit’s presence filled the room.  Applause broke out.  We cheered and clapped for 10 minutes.  It was then, in a church full of men and women perhaps formerly referred to as abominations, that I realized that my sin and all of our sins had been nailed to the same cross as all other sins.  I realized I did have a place in the church.  I was a part of the Family of God.  I was a child of a King!  It was a significant and special moment for me.

Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, It is well with my soul.

Richard Morton has recently been hired as the Ministry Relations Director for Exodus International. He will have a variety of responsibilities, including: serving as director of our membership, building relationships with churches and possible ministry partners as well as helping with fund-raising opportunities.

Terri Brown, former Director of Membership resigned in the Fall of 2011 after many faithful years of service.  She is partnering with her husband in their family business.