"I Don't Wanna Die," Part I

An excerpt from Pursuing Sexual Wholeness: “A fellow pastor … described a church service after which he decided to act on his discernment that two members in attendance were gay. He called them into his office, and they both admitted their homosexuality and their status as lovers. The pastor kindly but firmly told them that each needed to repent of his sin and break off his relationship with the other. The one man replied: “You’re not asking me to stop smoking or change my hair color. You’re asking me to lay down everything I know to be true and tangible and submit myself to Jesus and his church where I hardly know anybody, really. You’re asking me to die.” Alive to the spiritual metaphor of death unto new life, the pastor’s eyes twinkled, and he replied almost merrily, “That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do” (Andy Comiskey, p. 78-79).

I was recently in a conversation with a friend who was looking to get away and do some homework in peace and quiet for a weekend. This person was going through a time when he or she was challenged to die to self. I suggested to this individual to go to the Abbey of Gethsemani (monestary) and he or she replied, "It's too close to Jesus."

Now, some of you may freak out about that comment. But let's face it, when He's there with your cross, do you smile and take it or do you run away?

We're all being asked to die. Last fall, I prayed in one of my weaker moments and asked God for a repentant heart. It wasn't the first time I've prayed this. And so a process began. From November until early September, I went through the darkest period of my life. We're talking health issues which contributed to multiple doctor visits. Once school was over, job prospects fell through one after the other. I've moved three times since May. But I had to be honest. Bad habits, thinking patterns, pride, fear and just sin had to stop. I had rationalized long enough. I had kept secrets long enough. My faith had to mature. It was time to grow up. I'm slowly coming out of this dark time and still learning and growing.

I write this to encourage those who are going through their dark night of the soul or the desert experience. You CANNOT walk through this alone. I tried and fell flat on my face. The last thing I wanted to do was tell people EVERYTHING that was going on. What would they think? I would get humilated. ... Pride. Shame. ... I'd have to admit my shortcomings. .. Pride. Shame. ... I'd have to admit that behind the tough exterior, there's a scared little boy afraid of failure. ... Pride. Shame.

Grace. Mercy. The grace to change and grow. The mercy to save me from destroying myself. There's a community -- a family of Believers, a Royal Priesthood -- who can walk with you through this. Thanks to those who walked and prayed for me through this. That was one lesson I had to learn.

And for those who read this. There's hope for you too. God never gave up on me. He'll never give up on you. ... Never.