by Erica
I grew up in a fairly progressive school environment and was 15 when gay marriage became legalized, so the concept of being gay was always lingering for me.
Also, around that time is when I began attending a youth group. Following some trauma in my life, I was searching for answers to life’s biggest questions. The youth group offered that, along with free pizza, so I went. It was there that I accepted Christ as my Savior on a swing set behind the church. Sitting on that swing, my heart was moved at how beautifully and intricately he created everything around me, from the forest behind our church to my friends who were laughing together. I was struck by how God cared enough to have me as a part of that spectacular creation. I longed and prayed for God to use me intentionally and for His purpose.
Within weeks I decided to attend a Christian school and suddenly found myself surrounded by kids of pastors and missionaries, who all somehow could quote both Bible verses and the Veggie Tales with ease. As silly as it may seem, I began to wonder if God really loved me as much as the guy whose parents owned a Chick-Fil-A. This sense of “other than” further exasperated my wrestling with sexuality.
I began listening to Living Hope’s podcasts but didn’t put much thought into it. I was a teenager, after all, so I reasoned that I had all the time in the world to figure this out later. But through a series of events, I eventually became convicted that even my struggle with same-sex attraction was something the Lord wanted me to submit to him. I’m really grateful I had a place like Living Hope to go to that pointed me to God as I wrestled through my questions. I was mind-blown by a message so vastly different from the narrative I had been taught my whole life and believed: that if I felt even a little attraction towards another girl, then I was just gay and had to accept and embrace that. At Living Hope, I got to chill with a group of women and hear how they placed their identity in God’s hands. Being the youngest, it was especially special to me that I could look up to those who were further along in their journeys of overcoming this struggle. It gave me so much hope.
Passionate about the work the Lord was doing in my life and eager to share it with more people my age, I jumped at the opportunity this past spring to intern at a political ministry in Washington, D.C. which focused partially on the topic of homosexuality. Right after starting my internship, I wrote my first article on my SSA. While it was well-received by Christian leaders, I didn’t fully anticipate the level of backlash I would receive from having a controversial story. On top of that, I once again felt ‘other than’, this time in relation to the interns. I felt pressured to live up to this role as the “ex-gay” student without really even knowing what that meant.
Amidst moving to a new city, dealing with a lockdown after the Capitol Riots, and figuring out who I was supposed to be as the “ex-gay” intern, a lesbian writer and activist, who used to be a part of Living Hope, asked to meet with me. After reading the article I had published, she told me her heart went out to me because she, too once believed that homosexuality was changeable but now was openly gay and still a believer. With no sense of community in my new environment, I allowed her and her wife to become my safe space to work through the things weighing heavy on my heart.
What happened in that season is hard to comprehend, but God taught me a major lesson – one that I can only think to convey through the (perhaps stereotypical) metaphor of a basketball game.
See, I trained alongside all these people called Christians, believed in what I was standing for, and was PUMPED to go out there and do my very best to show that.
DC was like a packed stadium, every seat filled with onlookers. It was SO exciting. But it wasn’t long until I realized that all those fans were cheering for the other team. So as the game went on, I started to listen to the pro-gay voices that told me I was talented and too valuable of a player to be playing for an unpopular position. I began to fold in the pressure, thinking, “Man, maybe I should be over there!” So, I threw just one point to them and listened to the crowd roar for me.
My teammates – other Christians – came up to me asking, “What are you doing?! I thought you were standing for truth with us?” I’m ashamed to admit that I blew them off, saying, “yeah, yeah. No worries! Look at my jersey; I am still on God’s team!” But as I threw point after point for the other team’s advantage, it became increasingly clear that my actions didn’t align with my convictions.
Soon, I was handed everything I had dreamed of and that I thought would be enough: success, fame, a following, a “chosen family,” people saying how inspirational I was, people begging me to write a book someday, even journalists asking me for interviews. But there was one catch. That could all be mine only if I turned away from finding my identity in the Lord, and ultimately my relationship with him.
I began to miss the God that touched my heart on the swing at the youth group – the One who filled my heart with His indescribable hope and joy. That joy had now been depleted and replaced with a hollow feeling. I became consumed by the confusion, lying, depression, anxiety, and selfishness accompanying my new gay identity and split life.
Good thing that God is in the business of cleaning up our messes because I for sure had made a huge one. When I cried out to him asking for him to take me back, he said to me, “My child, where do you think I’ve gone? I’ve been right here. Trust me and come back home.”
I am also beyond thankful that Living Hope was just a phone call away to remind me of God’s love and grace and that my identity is found in him. Bonnie walked alongside me and was consistent and caring even when I pushed away or was kind of… okay, very… difficult. At Living Hope, they demonstrated to me Christlike love when they had every excuse and valid reason to give up walking with me.
I was reminded that when, in the metaphorical basketball game of life, the buzzer hits at the end of the game, when the score I put so much weight into clicks off, when the stadium clears out and all the seats are left empty, the praise and rush I received won’t matter. What will matter is which side of the court I’m standing on and if that side is God’s.
I expect this path I’m choosing to be filled with more hiccups, but I now know that God is enough in truly any circumstance that comes my way. He reminds me that He is enough to fill the big holes in my heart for affirmation and attention. He reminds me that He is enough of a Father for me not to be longing for an identity outside of being his daughter. He reminds me that He is enough to pull me back to Him, time and time again, when I am headed in a direction that is not His best. To the world, I know it looks as though I gave up something great, but God reminds me daily that he is greater. Those things I sought after were all temporal, but my walk with Him is eternal.
He truly is all that I need.