My Story

3 Feb

One of my very good friends from college sent me a message on Facebook the other day to let me know she was worried about my salvation. I’m guessing she finally figured out I was gay? I mean—I try so hard to keep that a secret and all. [laughter from the audience]

Let’s just say that my response wasn’t pretty. In fact, I’m ashamed of the way I blew up at her. But once I calmed the eff down, I really took the time to reflect why I had gotten so upset in the first place.

I don’t question my relationship status with God. We’re cool with each other.

But this was digging up old wounds that I let heal a long, long time ago, and I wasn’t prepared to relive that pain again. But with one little ‘ping,’ I was 23 again. I was scared and alone.

After that conversation with my friend, I came to the conclusion that I was never going to tell my story again… that I just couldn’t do that to myself anymore. Every time I recount my journey, I’m not letting the scars fade.

But then I thought about it for a few more days, and if I try to silence my story and never tell it again, no good will ever come from my pain. So as awful as it is to verbalize how being the gay son of a Southern Baptist preacher has affected me, I have to keep telling people about it… because when you know better, you do better. And maybe—just maybe—somebody’s heart will be changed.

This video isn’t my entire story—I’ll save that for another time. This video is just a brief snippet. One of my best friends works for a church, and he asked if I would be a part of a video series to talk about ‘my bad church experience.’

So that’s what we have here. A video. I’ll be honest—I haven’t watched it, nor do I plan on it. I just can’t. I have no idea what kind of editing was done and what parts of my story are left, but I hope my truth remains.

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