Changing Love, Quieted Down to Love, In His Love He will no longer rebuke you , Talk to Me Peaceably, The One I’m Looking For
by Patrick Cowart
I remember the moment I saw him for the first time. Before that night I’d only known him as an online acquaintance. I’d been obliged to become his friend by the request of a mutual friend- he’d apparently been in need of some emotional support, so I had agreed to help him by talking with him online whenever I could. What shocked me was that the man I saw before me as he entered the kitchen looked quite different than the pictures I’d seen of him online. Surprise gave way to nervous attraction as I suddenly realized that I liked this guy, despite the fact that he wasn’t at all like the idealized men I usually longed for. Something about his ordinary, unassuming presence and appearance got to me more than any muscle model could have. Perhaps it was just my inexperience, but it seemed that he could be a real possibility for a boyfriend.
Fast forward five years. As I’m walking down the street, heading to class, I find myself taking deep breaths, praying constantly, to avoid getting overwhelmed by frustration. Everywhere I go, dozens of attractive men seem to suddenly appear. I sigh to myself, remembering that although they look as dazzling as gods, they’re just regular guys like me. I’ve had it up to here with chasing illusions, and the idea of going back to pursuing them is immensely unappealing. My frustration doesn’t come from feeling as though I were being denied something I really, truly want. That’s what I used to think it would end up being if I were to somehow get “converted.” My frustration comes from the fact that, despite already having been there and done that, after having had all that that road could offer me, there’s still this incessant feeling inside that defies my real experience and tries to get me to go back to that place again. But the thing is I’ve been down that road enough times now to know that no guy is ever attractive enough, no sex is ever euphoric enough, and no relationship fulfilling enough to satisfy me. It can’t give me what I’m looking for. I know it can’t, because I spent years of my life trying to find it that way, to absolutely no success. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop the feelings from trying to get me back. I’m a converted same-sex attracted guy, with a place by Jesus’ side at the end of the day. His life for me isn’t easy, but that’s what it is.
The truth is, when people ask for my own personal story, I often find myself answering them with Scriptural treatises instead of my experiences. When I do, I insist to myself that that’s what they should know- I care less about what they really need (or more to the point, want) to know. It’s not easy for me to talk about this stuff, about my human weaknesses- it’s like, I feel that if people saw that I still struggled with these things- that they aren’t all neatly sorted out and harmless- they might turn away from pursuing following Jesus. I’m still attracted to men- or rather, to that something that makes men so attractive to me, if that makes any sense. I won’t pretend with it; it’s not that my need for special, masculine affection has evaporated or been sealed off; it’s that it’s always being met– which (come to think of it) is actually what I wanted all along.
I know intimately the frustration of being told that “You can’t be gay and Christian at the same time.” It hurts. I don’t like hearing it, even now. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re being singled out for a crime you don’t feel you’ve committed; falling short of a standard you don’t understand. Feeling wronged by the world while they think you’ve wronged them. Worst of all- receiving the impression that you have a disease that needs to be “cured”; ceasing to be a person in their eyes, and becoming something less than human. In short, feeling like a sinner– one who “falls short of the mark.”
A word on “sin” here might be helpful. The Bible says, “For all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom. 3:23) Professing Christians of all kinds don’t argue with this; human sinfulness is a basic tenet of what Jesus taught. Sin in and of itself is not so much the issue, however, for most gay people. The question is homosexuality– is it wrong? Why or why not? And if it is or is not, what does that mean for us? These are questions I’ve dealt with at various times in my life. They’ve have made me feel anxious and upset at some times about this cruel, awkward position I found myself stuck in; indifferent and apathetic towards the same thing at others. It’s not a pleasant place to be. In the end, however, the only way I can answer these questions is to show the answer God’s given me. I’ve ended up in a totally different place than I ever (believe me- ever) imagined, but there’s a reason for it. Trust me, I wasn’t looking for religion- and thankfully, I still haven’t found it. Religion is not a good enough reason to change- but then, that’s not the reason why I changed. And what I have in fact changed into…well, we’re going to get to that soon enough.
The idea of “You’re going to have to change” is perhaps even more threatening and alarming to a gay person than “You’re a fag, and you’re going to hell,” or even “Let’s go mess with that little queer over there.” The idea of changing alone is enough to send most of the gay community running- that included me at one point. And honestly, to a happily gay man, the idea is simply repugnant. “Change? What’s to change? I’m fine being the way I am. If you don’t like it, tough, but you better not try to change me to fit your idea of what I should be.”
Change is also the first thing most Christians think of when they approach a gay person about Christianity. The general expectation is that somehow, some way, they must change to fit a mold of a heterosexual norm. Whether they “turn straight” and (possibly) get married or not, they are at any rate going to have to give up being with men or women, as the case may be. And as for the feelings, the expectation for dealing with them can be amounted to: “Well, you’re just gonna have to pray about it.” In essence, it’s the spiritual equivalent of telling a drug addict in withdrawal to just “suck it up” and deal with the pain. To me and the majority of same-sex attracted people, this ultimatum is deplorable and unacceptable. It’s like telling someone that they’re going to have to stop eating food and somehow deal with the hunger pains, or else change their diet completely to eat something that looks inedible to them. And, to top it all off, they’re expected to thank God for this. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound like “good news.” It’s frightening and just plain unfair. I can’t imagine convincing anyone that that’s what God has in mind for us with Jesus being our Lord. It’s just not “good news.”
In the end, however, change is definitely something we must look at; it’s central to Jesus’ teachings in several places. Like “sin”, “change” itself, I don’t think, is so much the issue. People make changes in their lives all the time, to a greater or lesser extent. Even deciding to go to church on Sunday is a big change for some people. The alarming question is, what kind of change is one expected to make? Is it squeezing to fit into pre-established socio-cultural norms? Or is it one of more cosmic proportions? What does this look like in a human being, or to be more exact, what does this change look like in a same-sex attracted human being? What exactly is supposed to change?
A Short Discourse on My Personal Life
I may be getting ahead of myself. As I’ve already said, it’s only too easy for me to avoid talking about myself when my own personal witness is called for. If I don’t, then I’ll just sound like any other person who’s shouting “Homosexuality is wrong, and you’re all goin’ to hell.” I want to demonstrate the fact that I know what I’m talking about, that I can relate. I’m not some cold, uninvolved, thoroughly out of touch religious scholar who’s writing about this issue simply because it’s “the right thing to do” or because it’s expected of him. I’ve seen a lot, and I’ve done a lot. But how will you believe me unless I tell you? It seems then, that the only thing for it is to go into detail about my own life, because in the process it may be found that my story is in some ways like others. But I will warn you- my life is unusual, and God has shown up in more overt ways than just speaking to me off the words of a page. It may make you uncomfortable, for religious reasons or secular reasons or both. But I can’t help but speak about what I’ve seen and heard, so here it goes.
The story of my life begins before college, but I shall make this section of the story as brief as possible. I was raised in a religious, church-going family that also happened to have a large amount of things wrong with it- my siblings and I grew up having no real relationships with each other, and at least for me, I had barely even a hint of one with either of my parents. Fighting and shouting at home, with exclusion and rejection elsewhere, was the norm for me; not to paint it as too bleak of a picture. There were some good times, of course, but by and large these were heavily outweighed by the bad, and it left its dark impression on me as could be expected. I came out as gay in high school to an accepting attitude at school and a non-welcoming but non-violent reception at home, which helped lead to my further distancing myself from my family. God was not a part of my life at this time, for the obvious reason. I preferred a boyfriend to a God who didn’t want me to have one. So I left God alone and went my own way, doing my best to pursue my dream of the perfect relationship with a man. In a word, I was “single-minded” and loving it.
My personal confrontation with the question of homosexuality began when I started to seek God back at the beginning of my first year at VCU. Things in my life had gone south- in exerting my newly obtained sexual freedom, finally being away from home. I was only becoming more and more miserable, as each passing sexual or romantic encounter left me increasingly dissatisfied. Seriously, this took me by surprise. I thought everything I was lacking could be found in the arms of a (really good looking) man.
You can call me shallow because that’s what I was. I didn’t ever think it, but that’s the truth. I was all about looks and appearances. I liked to think of myself as intellectual, and I was expectably cold and calculating, but I really was more interested in the flesh- the thickly solid, tangible stuff we call the human male body. Personality was great- it helped keep things interesting-but I was seriously focused on the fleshly side of things. Everything revolved around the pursuit of physical intimacy for me- going to the gym, trying to fit a look I didn’t ever really pull off (you know, “metro chic” or whatever you call it).
Smart as I thought I was, I was not aware of the fact that I was in need of something no guy I slept with or dated could ever give me. I wasn’t trying to have a spiritual awakening-emptiness just kept showing itself in how frustrated and needy I was getting in my relationships. Something was missing, and I couldn’t deny it. I kept trying to get something that remained out of my reach, and no amount of sex or romantic involvement could acquire it for me, whatever “it” was. This craving for more, for something more, was creating in me an obsessive, addictive personality. I was getting out of control with how much I was forcing things in my relationships to go further, deeper, and faster than the other person was willing to go. I got good at manipulating others to get what I wanted, to make my will imposed upon them. The flames of my lust and my arrogance got hotter and hotter, and I ended up pushing others away from me because of it all. The situation came to a head after a very intense breakup experience, when I fell into a depression.
During that time of post-breakup shock, I feltruined. I know it may sound petty to some- after all, it was just a breakup with a “boyfriend.” However, I had invested so much emotionally into the relationship, that when it was suddenly cut off, I was in pieces, broken and bleeding inside. My selfishness had convinced me that if I could just get what I wanted, I would be happy. It had misled me by really blinding me to how much I really needed this something, this…love. It was love that I had been looking for the whole time, yet I still didn’t understand it. At any rate, my intense loneliness drove me to seek help from outside, and since I had nowhere else to run, I chose to seek God’s help. And the first way that God helped me was to get me to examine the way that I thought.
Being that my situation was such an internal thing, I figured that the solution to my “problem” would be likewise an internal matter. My thinking was that if I understood why I was feeling the way I was (i.e. heartbroken and horrible), I would know what minor changes to make and then everything would be better. I would eventually, somehow be “at peace” with it. But while I did acknowledge that God was the person to go to, I had severe misgivings about his views on homosexuality. Brought up to believe that his view was that homosexual behavior was wrong, I didn’t question it- I just simply overlooked it. I rationalized that such commands applied only to people “back then” in a different culture than ours. But when it came to really getting down to the issues, I had to confront my doubts. I had to bring them back to him, to the God of the Scriptures- because there’s little you can do to change “Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman- that is detestable” (Lev. 18:22).
My first question was, “Why? What’s so “detestable” about it? I’m just desperate enough to hear you out on this, God, but I have to say- I really don’t like your position on this. It just doesn’t seem right. So, if you’re willing to explain yourself, I’m willing to listen.” And so, I opened up the discussion with God, who, as it turned out, decided to show up and speak with me about it.
True to himself, God turned it around and started asking me questions-“Why do you do what you do? Why do you think what you think? Why do you feel what you feel?” he asked. “Why do you like guys and not girls?” He meant, “What characteristics about the genders prompt you to like one and not the other?” No judgment, just questions.
For me it was the most obvious of answers. I thought first of the plain physical differences. “To me, women are so round and soft and delicate,” I said with a shudder. “It’s a weakness, a delicacy, I find unattractive. Men however- well, they’re the most incredible things ever. Especially when they’re very muscular, handsome, solid- physical characteristics, true, but indicative of other things like strength, confidence, etc.” All of this I found extremely desirable. “So what brings the relationship to a sexual level?” he asked. “You have friends of both sexes-but why not have sex with the other gender, or even both?”
My reply was that the genders weren’t interchangeable- one was not as good as another, as obviously indicated by their physical forms. “They just aren’t the same- my attraction isn’t to simply a warm body, nor am I in it for solely sexual gratification. That’s not my thing.” “So what is it then?” he asked. “It’s about relationships with men that go beyond just chatting about sports or games or stuff like that. I need something more, something deeper than that superficial crap.” “Emotional things? There’re lots of men who have deep friendships with each other, but they don’t want to have sex with each other. It must not be that. What is it then?”
At this I truly hesitate to write further, because it was here that things started to get personal. That is to say, this is where things started to get really uncomfortable. However, God is interested in what’s really going on, not in what we think or want to believe is going on. I figured God lived up in the clouds, and so wasn’t acquainted with ugly sinful realities. I was relieved yet surprised to discover that he is actually quite frank when he speaks. He tells it like it is- and he expected me to do the same. So, while it was difficult to talk with him about it at first, I figured it was stupid to set up an appointment with God only to try to hide things from him and waste his time. So I said:
“Sex with men-well, the whole relationship really, but specifically sex with them- is where I go to try to find a connection to something stronger, more beautiful, more wonderful than myself. The feeling of being overwhelmed by another man is intoxicating. Being filled up with him and filling him up feels right. It couldn’t be any other way and be the same. Call it romance or something like that, but just ‘being friends’ isn’t enough- I need something more than that. And if you were to tell me that I could have romantic feelings but not have sex, wouldn’t that make you kind of cruel? You’re the one who made me this way.”
“What do you want?” he asked, simply.
“I want what he has-somehow, to make it a part of myself.”
“What is it?”
I hesitated. “Love?”
“Can he give it to you? Has he given it to you?” he asked. “Is it ever enough?”
I had to think about it. What did I really get out if it? “I suppose I can’t quite get enough. But is that really a problem? How do you even measure that? What makes you so sure the problem is that he and I are the same gender? What if it’s some other reason?”
“The answer to that question is simple, because what has happened here is that we have come across two different desires that are mixing,” he replied. “First, it is obvious that you are looking for me– God. After all, you want all these things- security, worth, provision, etc- in infinite quantities-right?” I agreed, this was true. “Then, why just settle for occasionally?” he said. If I was honest with myself, I wanted it all, all the time. So I agreed with him.
As this exchange went on, I had to realize that despite whatever views existed as to whether homosexuality, or same-sex attraction, was right or not, God’s opinion on it was supreme. I had to hope that his view would make sense if I fully understood what he does- whatever that view might turn out to be. I didn’t want to trust people’s opinions. I found that God made sense, though, as long as I was willing to hear him out.
He was trying to show me that he wasn’t singling me out. To him, the chief issue was not my perceived orientation; it was something greater than that. The problem was that I was pursuing something that was making me miserable, something I didn’t realize, and he hated to see me like this. To him, he’s opposed to people getting in their own way, thereby getting in the way of getting close to him.
Despite this, I still couldn’t help but feel like I was being victimized. It felt like there was a system, a “plan” that I’d somehow fallen short of, a blueprint I didn’t fit or match. It seemed to me that everyone was born able to play the parts set for them, but not me. I said, “I’m sorry God, but I just don’t meet your requirements. I don’t like women- as far as I’m concerned, I don’t think I ever will; and frankly, I don’t want to. So, where does that place me? Where does that place others like me? I’m sick of not being picked to play on the team with everyone else. I can’t want to be everyone else. God, I just can’t, I don’t know why. If becoming a ‘Christian’ means that I have to start liking women and get married, I don’t think I’ll go for it.”
He said, “Calm down, let me explain. You wrongly assume that becoming a Christian means that you have to become a “heterosexually attracted husband of women” or some such nonsense. You make it sound as if Christianity was about weddings and child-rearing. The truth is simple- it’s all about me, God. This is where it ends, Patrick, but this is also where it all begins. I’m with you 100%, but you refuse to see it because you refuse to let go.”
This sounded exactly like the religious stuff that I didn’t want to hear. “Let go? Let go of what? I’m not holding on to anything.”
“Your life! Your right to choose it whichever way you want. If you want my comfort, if you want my love to make a difference in your life, if you want my life to become yours, then you must come to me, obey me, learn from me, and do what I ask you to do. Take me into you, by first giving it all up, because I take up a lot of space. All I’m asking you to give up is everything that’s holding you back, which is nothing more than your selfishness.”
In our conversations, even as he was telling me things I had wrong, he was also assuring me of his constant presence and mercy. His words were comforting, making the weight of my pain easier to bear. Still, I wondered where he was going with this. Religion? Somehow, we’d left the topic of homosexuality behind. We were getting into other territory I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to. At one point, in a moment of frustration, I announced to God, “I don’t want a Bible book club, God, I don’t want religion- I want you, the living being!”
“Then come, follow me, and I’ll show you where life and love are hid. It’s nowhere in yourself or in those men you seek to find it in. It is found only in me, and I’m the one you’re supposed to seek after anyways. Don’t be afraid to lose things, Patrick, otherwise you’ll never learn how to gain things- because you only have so much room in your heart, and that room is precious to me.”
Well, it happened. I dropped what I was doing (being miserable with a pointless existence), and ran after God- not religion. What began was three months of the most grueling soul-searching that I had ever gone through, a kind of spiritual therapy with the Holy Spirit as the Therapist. I hadn’t seriously looked into myself before, so needless to say there were more than a few unpleasant surprises. What we found was shocking, unexpected- and biblical.
A Word on Sex
I’ve said a lot about myself, I know, but I hope that it has helped shed light on the fact that I’m not some shallow speaker who has no clue about gay sex or the gay life besides what he’s heard from his pastor or his friends in the church. I’m not slow to understand the feelings of a gay guy or lesbian girl confronted with a life that demands giving up a same-sex relationship. But one thing I haven’t shown is how the attraction itself, the desiring for another of the same sex in a specifically sexual way, to whatever extent, is wrong.
As God put it to me, same-sex attraction isn’t “godly” by definition simply because it’s not how God works within himself, and his images (humans) can’t work that way either because we are his image-bearers too. We don’t see things the way God does, we don’t think in terms of “perfect”. We live on the surface- I was fine with my same-sex relationships, and would never have looked at them as a source of my unhappiness unless God had directed my attention to them.
God explained the basic premise for love one day when I was particularly upset with his opinion of my life, and he took me back to the beginning. God’s idea for romantic love is rooted in a love of opposites- it’s why there are men and women. Ask any straight guy why he loves being with his wife or girlfriend, and he’ll say something like, “As guys we like give to women because we do not want to get- getting all the time feels like we are taking advantage of women.” Men like to meet needs because it makes them feel powerful- feel like they can pull through; there’s a strength that comes with it. At the same time, there can also be a proud mindset of “You need me”.
For a man the attraction to women lies in their weakness, vulnerability, and ability to be helped and provided for by the man- which is also carried over into the sexual aspect of the relationship. It’s why men like buying their significant others things, and why they also generally don’t like their amours to pay for them; it makes them feel useless, because doing the primary giving is part of their love for women. As far as women go, they like to be taken care of, to be made to feel like their receptiveness isn’t a burden but rather a gift from God- an ability to be loved by one for whom they’re made to love in return, in a way all her own. It’s how God shows us what he feels like towards us- as far back in the Bible as you care to go, God has always been the man in the relationship with his people, his wife. It’s because he initiates things, provides for us, and gives us everything we need. And we’re supposed to love him back and give him the best of our effort out of our gratitude, not out of obligation; all within the context of a covenantal relationship.
When you add sex to a same-sex relationship, something changes. For same-sex attracted individuals, we’re trying to get something in another person of our gender that we are made already having and therefore do not need, rendering whatever we do have useless. With opposite-sex relationships it’s the opposite. With them, the other person is different from you and needs what you have. Oftentimes with me, I’ve pursued men because I felt I didn’t have “it”- that masculine essence I saw in them, but couldn’t find in myself or with other people. It’s certainly true, however, that some individuals of either gender may exhibit gender-specific characteristics more strongly than others. This isn’t to say that the seed of such traits are nonexistent, though it’s easy to feel that way.
Where does all this leave one such as myself, who, in all honesty, would rather find himself in the arms of a man than a woman? Even in describing heterosexual love, I start to feel like I’m being pushed out of the game, feeling like I don’t belong.
Talking about God’s idea of romance brings up his ideas of gender identity, and I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong in “your group.” Without a right idea about who I was, there was no way I could love a woman, or a man, or anyone. My inner concept of myself was not a boy at all- it was a lovely, lithe, golden-haired girl in white- because only the best feminine substitute for me could replace the masculinity that had been lost, either by me or by others. He asked me about it.
“Why do you see yourself this way?”
“I hate myself,” I answered, honestly.
“Why?” he asked.
“However you made me, you made me wrong, and now you’re condemning me for it. That’s why I hate myself, because I can’t hate you, because you’re perfect.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound like praise, Patrick. Why are you angry with me?”
“Because I am how I am, and-“
“No, you’re not,” he said, interrupting me. “You’re angry because you’ve been found in sin, and you’re angry at me because you’d rather blame me than you.”
“What did I do?” I asked. “Have a relationship with a guy?”
“It’s not like that at all. You know better. You know that what I’m angry about is this: when I said you’re a capable, wonderful male, born just how I created you, you tell me that you’re something else.”
“No, Patrick. I’m God- you’re not. You are exactly how I made you, and I won’t take it back. By your own admission, you’ve become a mixture of who I say you are, and who you say you are. I say you’re human– so you’re human. I say you’re valuable– so you are. I proved that with Jesus.” At this he paused. “But you say you’re not good enough. You say you’re not good enough as a boy, as a man, as anything– so you decided to be something else, something that seemed easier, better.”
“That’s not fair,” I protested, hot with indignation. “I did not choose to be gay, I did not choose-“
“You did choose, Patrick, but not that. You’re right, that was never your choice. But you did choose something else, something I did not want for you, even though you knew I had said don’t. You chose to leave Jesus, who you hardly knew, yet thought you did. You did that to go and pursue a man who ultimately brought you nothing but ruin. What am I angry about here, Patrick? What am I angry about?”
I had to think about it. “You’re angry…because I did something wrong?”
“The consequences, Patrick. You think this is what I wanted for you? Miserable? Unhappy? Trying to be something you’re not? I didn’t make you to live like this. I made you to live, to love, and you need to love me back-because that’s what life is all about.”
Loving God is all about loving Jesus. I didn’t understand this at first. Jesus had been a distant, 2-dimesional religious figure to me for the better part of my life, and so I was slow to realize his centrality to the whole scheme of things.
I want to emphasize that I’m still not what people might call a “Jesus-person.” I still have difficulties with that aspect of who I am. I think it’s because I fear that I might somehow become like a lot of the religious people I grew up around, back when I began questioning my sexuality. I have a lot of memories of being at Christian concerts or prayer nights and feeling so uncomfortable and out of place as I watched people come on stage and describe their own relationships with God. The way they would talk about God and Jesus in such emotional, vibrant, hyped-up tones of “This is who I am!” further assured me that “This is who I’m not.” Growing up with same-sex attraction in a religious environment can be a very lonely experience, and I think that that feeling of isolation and exclusion has stuck with me throughout my life even now as a disciple of Jesus. I’ll sometimes find myself thinking to myself, “Really? Am I one of those people now?” The last thing I want to become is one of those people- who, as I had perceived them, were insincere and fake.
I didn’t plan on this happening to me. I didn’t plan on coming to it later on in life, either. I had not the slightest intention of coming to God before everything in my life went sour. But Jesus had other plans, however, and decided to show me just how wrong I was about him.
He showed me this by being someone I had never expected him to be- real and kind. He talks with me about my sin, about my struggles, yet I’ve never felt condemned by him. An example of this happened recently, when I was doing some homework in a public place. I looked up from my laptop for a moment and suddenly caught an eyeful of an incredibly attractive man walking by. He wasn’t just good looking though- he had a sort of allure about him that made me feel all…vulnerable. Consequently, I felt guilty and panicky- not uncommon things for me, but there they were.
Immediately he asked, “What did you see?” I said, “I don’t know. I just feel vulnerable around a guy like that- there’s something about him that’s more captivating than beautiful.” “I think you mistook him for me,” he said. “Consider- when you add up his body parts, facial features, etc, you don’t end up with a feeling like that. That’s extra. And that feeling doesn’t really accurately describe that man either- he’s just a man, the same as you. But who do you think such a feeling of awe more rightly describes?” “God?” I replied. “Absolutely,” he said. “And there’s more awesomeness there than you’ve ever imagined. Don’t worry- if you follow me, I’ll take you where you want to go.”
He’s been my comforter for two years now, providing me with an endless stream of encouragement and counsel, good advice that’s never gone bad, and a hopeful outlook that always inspires me to get back up again after I fall down. Some things may never change, such as my attraction to the masculine, but my perspective on them has changed completely. God has so filled me to the core now that it’s funny to consider what life was like before Christ- the “B.C.” days, as some who I know call them.
I’m now a junior in college, about to be a senior this fall; I study English, although God is bringing back my old love of art- I was going to be an art major before I fell back on my English skills, but that’s another story.
What happened after all of this? He adopted me! After I had been studying out my sin and self with him for about three months, God helped me find some godly people to study the Bible with me, in answer to a prayer/and fast I was doing expressly for that purpose! I got met two days in to the fast by a member of a campus ministry, Disciples on Campus, who invited me out to a Bible Talk one day while I was reading my Bible in Shafer. I went, got asked to study the Bible shortly thereafter,studied out what it means to be a Christian, and finally got my adoption papers signed and sealed on April 29, 2009, when I got baptized into Christ for the forgiveness of my sins, and the gift of the Holy Spirit. I have to say, it’s been the best move of my life.
I welcome anyone who would like to continue this dialogue with me; all you have to do is just email me or get in touch with me via the Internet. God’s awesome, Jesus is real, and the Holy Spirit moves like no other. Please get in touch!