Your Testimony with Same-Sex Attraction isn’t Boring

It was one of those late-night prayer meetings down South, and a cowboy-looking man was sharing his testimony. He had a powerful story (and voice) about how the Lord had rescued him from “a life of sleeping with other men, drugs, and alcohol,” stating that now he was “completely attracted to women, the way God intended.”

He beat his fist against the wooden pulpit to drive home his message. I wanted to sneak out, but the church was so small I knew I’d be seen and questions would arise.

I wondered. What about those of us who still struggle (and struggle well) with homoerotic temptation while earnestly following Jesus, many of whom have prayed for our unwanted same-sex desires to be removed?

What about those of us who are not “out” and would never feel comfortable publicly sharing as this speaker did? Would our stories also be received with as much excitement? If not, why not?

I assert that all testimonies of Jesus’ work in our lives are admirable, leading others to praise and follow Him. I admit, you’ll never see me behind some large podium shouting about my personal relationship with Jesus or my sexuality.

It’s not that I don’t have a testimony; it’s just that, honestly, my testimony is rather boring.

Or is it?

Should we call anything the Lord does, especially saving a lost soul, boring?

Even the 7-year-old child who gives their life to Jesus is a transformed soul to Jesus’ care. The fact that any of us are saved through Jesus is a miraculous and wonderful thing!

Frankly, my testimony of same-sex attraction doesn’t include any sexual relations with another man (or a woman, for that matter). Perhaps I’ve been blessed in that what same-sex desires I do have are quite mild, and any opposite-sex desires are nonexistent. Most of my life, I have simply desired platonic relationships.

I have asked the Lord to give me desires for women, and He hasn’t — I believe He’s said “no.” That answer didn’t come to me through some wild “burning bush” experience, but rather through praying, reading the Bible, and seeking godly advice.

The “plainness” of my testimony is sometimes frustrating. I’ve come out to loved ones, who immediately brought forth a barrage of questions about some LGBT+ sociopolitical issue, of which I am too ignorant and/or unconcerned to even begin to give an opinion.

What I’m honestly looking for in such vulnerable moments is a friend who will walk with me day by day as I strive to follow Jesus in my broken sexuality. In a sense, it’s not too complicated — but far too ordinary for many people. 

In this overstimulated, postmodern world we crave excitement, and yet I imagine it’s more common for most of us to see Jesus in the mundane. Furthermore, I believe that if we are not careful, we may fall into the trap of praising sin rather than the God who rescues us from it. I’m sure you have heard testimonies like that. Sometimes they seem sensationalized and not very relatable.

An accountability partner once anticipated more in my story of same-sex struggle than there honestly exists. Eventually, he asked me, “Is this all?”

Looking back, I’m certain that he meant this as a rather benign question, but at the time it made me feel as though I were boring him with the specific nature of my struggle. I explained that although these details may seem smaller to some, my struggles and temptations are very real to me.

Anything that blocks me from the Lord is significantly real; likewise, anything that the Lord removes is a significant victory.

As I have thought and prayed about what my rather “boring” testimony means, I’m starting to believe that the simplicity of our daily following Jesus may be the greatest tool for our stories, including how we spread the story of Your Other Family.

For example, I recently came out to a young minister at my church. I attend a small church, and this minister also serves our youth group. While I was bemoaning my situation over my enchilada lunch, he began looking up our ministry on his phone.

“This is a great resource for several people I am thinking of,” he said with excitement.

We discussed how most resources are better suited for college-aged students and parents of youth. However, what most impressed me was that he was simply interested in our stories, for the daily happenings of this “Side B” life.

This minister was most interested in how we didn’t have all the answers for living in this struggle, but rather living experientially through it. Again, this is such a beautiful picture of Jesus working in the mundane, day-to-day of our testimonies.

A few years ago, I was working with the students at my church during various summer activities. One of our students was injured and had to wear a cast for a while. His dear mother, trying to cheer him up, pointed over to me.

“Look at Mr. Sam,” she said. “He has a rough disability, and you never see him complain.”

Later, I politely mentioned to her that such a comparison may not be fair or necessarily helpful to her son. I explained that I have experienced the gamut of emotions with my cerebral palsy, though it’s now easier to endure in middle age. This is just a mild example of how being honest about our testimony (as opposed to finding some “happy ending”) is more helpful to those in the throes of any faith crisis, especially those of us who tread issues of faith, sexuality, and gender in Your Other Family.

I encourage you, dear reader, to be forthright and honest with your testimony of what Jesus has done in your life. From both my own reading of Scripture and what I have observed in the lives of many others, Jesus never does anything boring.

Have you struggled with any lack of a “wow factor” in your story with same-sex attraction? Are you eager to tell others your testimony, including your sexuality, or does this feel difficult — even impossible?