I spent most of my twenties trying my best to be straight. I dated women and watched ESPN and prayed and prayed for the gay to go away. I don't suppose there was anything wrong with all that. But at some point I had to acknowledge the reality that God doesn't always remove challenges. He always works through them, though.

It seems one can find almost anything on the Internet nowadays, with the exception of a serious discussion about sexuality and disabilities; let me assure you, I have looked. It has been increasingly important to me (and certainly others in my plight) to find such information. I was born with cerebral palsy, along with the ability to ask questions apparently nobody is supposed to ask. Like most kids who grow up gay, I felt different on the inside; in my particular case, I was different on the outside too.

When the call came, it wasn't that I couldn't hear it; it was that I had no interest in obeying. For Jonah, that call was Nineveh. For me? It was coming out. My "solution" for my sexuality was quite simple: I'd tell no one, become straight, and then move on with my life. A secret I'd die keeping rather than ever share; I could hardly admit it to myself, let alone another human.

I like men in more than just a friendly way. I am a man who is attracted emotionally and sexually to other men. I am also married to a woman, attracted only to her out of all the women on earth. Somehow, it works. I am queer. And for much of my life, that has terrified me.

It's Easter season, and I've been reflecting on the meaning of the cross. Not just the meaning of the cross for the bigger picture of salvation for humanity, but also the tangible effects the cross has been having on me.

What would it look like for my distant tribe to be gathered together? Didn't God long to change our shame into praise and renown? "Gather us," I prayed. I prayed that my scattered and lost tribe would be drawn together, our fortunes restored before our eyes. It was a prayer for my own benefit, but also for all of us.

God has promised to never leave me or forsake me. He promised that my hope in Him will never put me to shame. I am fully known and fully loved.

It was an SSA guy’s dream, being close friends with ten straight guys. We had our ups and downs, but our community shared a deep intimacy.

I've never much desired sexual intercourse with men. Throughout my life, however, my erotic thoughts and desires have centered almost entirely on nudity.

These words served as a reminder that my story is worth telling and sharing. And equally as important, truth needs to be spoken.

I still get tense and nervous and start shaking just thinking about coming out again. Some days it's better; other days it's not.

Looking back, I know I was experiencing same-sex attraction at that age, even though I didn't know what SSA or homosexuality was at the time.

Without losing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven? To get to heaven, we don't lose a piece of ourselves. We lose it all.

Without the past, we have no future. We either let the past keep us in chains, or the past props us up, prods us forward, pushes us to greater heights.

I longed to be someone else. To not have to carry the burden of different. It was so heavy. I soon began to pursue perfection. Not because I wanted to, but because it was demanded of me.

I’m a work in progress! Everyone is a work in progress, and that’s how life is. Slowly, but surely, we all strive to be what the Christian community calls holy!

There is so much pleasure and beauty in God and in what He does, I am motivated to say something about it! Much of what I write here will be glimpses of the beauty of God's work in the hearts and lives of myself and people I know.

I have wanted nothing more than a guy who would give everything to show his love for me. And this desire has warped my life in more ways than I could ever describe.

In 2008 I entered a desperate Google search: "Christians struggling with homosexuality." Finding that Xanga blogring community changed my life forever.