How I wish there could be someone here, of a similar position in life, with whom I could fully relate. Someone with whom I could bare my soul, with whom I could freely express brotherly intimacy – a soul brother, one could say. That is what I crave.

The "honeymoon phase" of coming out to Todd was certainly short-lived. Over the weeks meeting with him at Bible Study, I shared a few more details about my ongoing struggle. One night while I shared, he rather bluntly said, "Well, you can't be gay and be a Christian."

Does nice equal good? Does strong equal toxic? Commiseration is a drink that intoxicates quickly, yet we must weep with those who weep. Am I a man? Am I strong? What am I, and where is my place? What is the nature of masculine strength?

Being gay has ruined large crowds for me. Something about being surrounded, seen but utterly unknown, twists my soul. And then add to that the layers of guilt I feel. All these couples I'm jealous of because they get to be here together. Or the number of attractive men I see, the number of times I don't control my lustful thoughts. Or worst of all: when I spot a gay couple somewhere out there, and I want to be them, and I wish I didn't.

Frankly, all this relational turmoil boiled to the point that I thought: You know what? I'm sick of gay men. Tired of the super sensitive personalities, tired of the drama queens. Heck, the emotionless or stoic personalities of most straight men started to feel preferable to what I'd found lately with other gay/SSA men. Nonetheless, with our YOBBERS retreat coming up I needed to put aside my negativity as best I could.

More than anything, though, what struck me about this year's retreat was a deep sense of unity. As I looked around the room of forty brothers, I considered how what unites us all is our crazy decision to make Jesus our everything – not just to follow Christ in a church on Sunday, but to take a devotion to Him into every single second of our lives.

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?

It's now been three to four years since I've written those blogs on cuddling and nudity, and I've shared many cuddles since with guys I've met through YOB. But have any of my thoughts changed since I wrote those posts?

Well, 2020 happened. And in this "unprecedented" year, a more personal disease revealed itself in me. Like Nouwen wrote, despite my being around people during a pandemic, I faced loneliness. My tendency to isolate combined with an actual, physical inability to connect with others made me look deeper into the why of my loneliness.

Physical touch isn't even one of my love languages, but it doesn't have to be. Humans are meant to have regular physical interaction with others. When the pandemic started, I became acutely aware that physical touch would be more rare than it already was in my life. I've experienced physical touch a total of seven times in almost a year.

Whatever the reason, this is where I find myself: apathetic toward the Church, God, and disciplines like reading Scripture and prayer. I'm not angry at the Church -- just apathetic. And in that apathy I feel ordinarily strong convictions weaken.

Anyone else feeling super tempted during this pandemic? Especially the longer this thing drags on? Because I'll be the first to raise my hand. I'm feeling super tempted. I'm feeling super restless. I'm actually feeling super-duper tempted and restless.

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.

I desire so greatly to be in heaven in the presence of my God and Savior. Yet I still wait. And wait. Every day with a reminder of my imperfections through a fallen world, broken relationships, and a scarred gender identity. Every day I long for Christ's return. Is this how I live out patience as a queer man?

While I often complain about a lack of community, I also keep people at a distance. Only during this socially distant time of coronavirus have I realized something: maybe my community felt lacking because I wanted it to solve all my problems. And finding a community that felt authentic, one where I could be vulnerable, couldn't exist because I wasn't connected with Jesus.

I don't feel like having peace. Peace won't give my family income. Peace won't solve the financial burdens of two massive ministries. Peace won't cure the coronavirus or bring back canceled jobs or put food on the table or anything. Peace won't do anything I want it to do right now. So, what good is it?

I yearn to be held by a bigger, stronger man, to rest in his powerful arms, to lay my head on his chest. I ache for this; I dwell on this desire a lot. I suppose, given the nature of this website, my admission surprises approximately nobody. But it's hard to admit.

With most of the U.S. and much of the world in quarantine or shelter-in-place due to COVID-19, we gathered our featured authors for a conversation on the challenges and calls to growth through these strange times. We hope you feel a little less alone in joining our conversation.

The Covid-19 pandemic has become something of an "isolation equalizer." People everywhere are living in tension and isolation with businesses closed, services restricted, and life as we've known it ground to a halt. We are, all of us, isolated. And yet there is tremendous opportunity to unite in our shared isolation.

Before all the lockdowns started as the coronavirus pandemic spread around the world, I started writing this reflection about how my experience in the "Side B" bubble could play a bigger part in the Church and, in turn, the wider world around me. When this whole pandemic broke out I thought, What better time to play our part but now?