As I walked through the labyrinth, weaving toward the center and back out, I prayed for forgiveness. I prayed for the Lord to take back control of my relationships – the time I’ve spent wandering, wanting to be wooed by everything and everyone around me.

Leading up to this fall’s YOB retreat, I had a lot of anxiety. Who would be placed in my tribe? What if my tribe members asked me questions I couldn’t answer? What if strong disagreements between tribe members happened that I couldn’t peacefully stop? I felt unqualified for such a leadership task as this!

Do I fast because I truly desire to hear from Him more clearly, walk with Him more closely, and feel less spiritually cloudy? Or do I fast because, well, it's comfortable to be uncomfortable? Because it almost feels good to deprive, if not punish my body – particularly after I sin?

Going into this retreat, your boy was stressed. Stressed just from day-to-day existing. Looking back and evaluating my spiritual condition at the time, I could not slow down long enough to have one simple conversation with God. Long enough for my brain and my heart to catch up to each other.

We get asked the why question so much because this life is hard. Being a Christian is hard; being LGBTQ+ is hard. Being both can be exhausting. And it may continue to be exhausting if we don't do the work to understand why it's hard and figure out how to keep going.

I was anxious our "vibe" would be too new, too foreign, too strange, and too uncomfortable for too many people. Would the ratio just be off? Would our vibe be off after 27 months apart? Beyond logistics and numbers, I felt anxious about the purpose of this retreat more than either of our previous ones. It all goes back to that nebulous definition of YOB: what are we here for?

Something came crashing into my mind when Peter asked me to be a team leader at church: a stream of familiar feelings, similar to the ones I felt the first time I had to come out. They were feelings of inadequacy; the line of thinking that I was in a somewhat state of sinfulness that compelled me to confess.

When we talk about masculinity, we usually talk like it is something we need to become, instead of something we already are. I think we need to introduce a new masculine narrative: a new narrative that is actually an old one, formed by Scripture.

Rather than blindly following Him, Jesus invites us to do a little spiritual preparation to ensure we are committed to seeing our faith walk through. As I look back on my own faith journey, I realize just how important this reflection and preparation has been in spiritually working through my sexuality.