It's no secret that I have written extensively on the joys and blessings of SSA, gay, or Side B friendships. Indeed, these particular friendships have been incredible and moving experiences that I would not trade for anything in the world. But at the same time, let me be clear: maintaining Side B friendships with other guys can be HARD.

Several of our authors recently attended the inaugural Revoice conference in St. Louis: a gathering for sexual minorities in the church. Here are our thoughts on the (controversial?) conference we experienced together.

When I was a kid, my dream was to grow up and get a wife and kids. A lot of kids. My family and church taught me to pray for my future spouse. So, I did. Everyday for years. I prayed for the girl I'd one day marry, that God would protect her and care for her, whoever she was.

This is the continuing story of my midlife crisis which started when a deep sense of dissatisfaction drove me to make big changes and start a new life. Waking up from a dream, I intuitively knew that I should devote as much time and energy as possible to pointing the younger generation to Jesus Christ!

I hated being the awkward, quiet introvert; I wanted to be like the energetic, chatty, extroverted kids. They always seemed to make a bajillion friends and were always the life of the party who people laughed at and enjoyed. I hated myself for not having charisma or speaking when it mattered. I thought something was wrong with me.

I came to see how often the word "brother" was being used around me. The word was being thrown around constantly. And I saw that I was one of the ones who used "brother" the most. In my desire to embrace this new brotherhood, I had actually started ruining the word for myself. I had worn out this once meaningful word until I couldn't even bear to say it anymore.

Call it a "new direction" or a clearer translation of what YOB has been from the start: a community desperate for Jesus. My 31-year Jesus journey leads me here. Wherever "here" is. Broken on the floor. Echoes of the past ringing in my ears. Doubts for the future always shadowing my vision no matter how many tears I blink away.

How does a middle-aged, single, Christian guy dealing with same-sex attraction (SSA) embark upon and survive a midlife crisis? It was clear that I was selfishly living an easy life that didn't help anyone else and did little or no eternal good.

During our inaugural YOBBERS retreat, all attendees were assigned to one of five small groups ("tribes") whose weekend discussions would focus on each of our five YOB values: hope, humility, brotherhood, courage, and vulnerability. Three of our authors were assigned to the Hope Tribe, along with seven other men. What follows is a conversation sharing some of what we learned that weekend: hope in relationships and hope in Jesus.

The vast majority of "Queer Eye" is not even addressing sex; it is addressing prejudice, shame, and loneliness. I have experienced shame, the idea that I am simply unlovable. I even believed for many years that God hated me, that God himself couldn’t even love me.

June is recognized as Pride Month. It’s a divisive topic in church culture! Should Christians celebrate Pride Month? Should we in this YOB community recognize Pride Month or even attend a Pride parade? Our core authors gathered to talk about Pride Month – our response to it as Christians and particularly as gay/SSA believers.

These men, their stories showed me the courage to love. The courage to love family and friends, whether they understand, accept us, or not. The courage to love and trust God even in the midst of confusion and lies. The courage to love myself.

Eryk had no spouse, no children, no parents, and only a distant half-sister. Eryk became dangerously depressed, and no one was close enough to effectively do anything about it. I can certainly put myself in Eryk's place and understand how he could become depressed. But I didn't take the time and effort to notice and take action.

When we give our hearts to people we are changed, even if they never give us their hearts in return. These effects aren't scars — they don't begin as wounds — and I wouldn't call them baggage. They're like paint splashes on our canvas hearts or imprints on our soft, clay souls.

Our recently held inaugural YOBBERS retreat far exceeded my expectations and imagination. I experienced many meaningful moments at the retreat, including one that produced this profound -- perhaps obvious -- realization: I am an other brother too.

The slog of waking up to my drab mundane life takes a sharp turn for the better, and I am suddenly filled with hope and optimism. The world is not so scary anymore. How on earth did I live without this hope before? I attended this year's YOBBERS retreat, and my mind is spinning over what I just saw and experienced.

We recently celebrated our faithful Patreon community, our YOBBERS, with an inaugural retreat. 47 guys from literally all over the world united for a weekend in the mountains, and we had a fantastic time together. Several of our core authors attended the YOBBERS retreat, and we recently debriefed our weekend together.

My biggest fear was that my best friend was going to force our friendship to end all because of this girl, pushing me away from his life. It was the fear that whatever friendship we'd built in the past he was willing to tear down, trample to the ground, and pretend that I never existed at all.

If telling someone I'm gay allows me to be a light in their life, then I will do it. If saying I am SSA Side B allows me to be a light in their life, I will do that as well. At the end of the day, my desires are secondary to the Great Commission, God's call on the life of every Christian.