Bible Q & A's - Christian Bible Answers, page 29

The Seeds That Grew
Melissa Fryrear

I am the second and last child my parents adopted, in 1966. I grew up in an upper middle-class subdivision in the east end of Louisville attending church. Trinity Presbyterian was less than two miles from our house. I was dedicated there as a baby, went to Vacation Bible School in the summers, played the hand bells in the children’s choir, and took my first communion when I was twelve. Although I had attended church all of my life, I had not yet accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. Church seemed like something we did because “it was the right thing to do.” Looking back, I remember hearing dozens of stories about Jesus, but I never recall hearing a message about salvation. I did not know I was a sinner in need of a Savior.

When I was thirteen, I remember sitting in the sanctuary with my parents one Sunday morning waiting for the service to begin. I picked up a Bible and began to flip through the pages at random. I stopped in the book of Leviticus and my eyes fell upon a scripture in the eighteenth chapter: “Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable.” After I read that verse, I froze and everything around me stopped. My eyes darted to the beginning of the verse and I read it again. Without looking around, without saying a word to anyone, I closed that Bible, returned it to the pew in front of me, and said “No” to God. When I read that verse, the words after the semicolon read “Melissa is detestable.”

I had known for a number of years that something seemed “different” about me. Many gays and lesbians believe they were born homosexual. This is what I believed because I had always felt that way. As early as age seven, I was aware of being drawn to other girls. This was a seed that began to take root in the soul of my heart. As my adolescent years continued to unfold, it only became increasingly obvious to me that I was not like the other girls. My mind was filled with an endless barrage of tormenting questions: “What is wrong with me?” “Why don’t I act like the other girls act?” “Why don’t I seem to like boys?” “Why do I hate being a girl?” In an attempt to answer those screaming questions, I opened a dictionary one day and read the definitions to words like homosexual, lesbian, and gay. And the seed sprouted.

I was sixteen when I first became involved in a lesbian relationship. That marked the beginning of the next 10 years of my life. Unable, unaware, and unwilling to resist the draw and temptation any longer, I embraced my lesbian identity. When I left home at the age of eighteen to attend college at the University of Kentucky, I immersed myself in the gay community. Everything in my world revolved around being gay. My only goals in life were to have a good time, to make a great deal of money, and without overusing a cliché, to find “the girl of my dreams.” And the seed flourished.

The years continued to unfold. I was on my way to achieving my goals: I was having some really good times; I was making $40,000 by my mid-twenties; I was involved with a woman. However, something was stirring within me.

In 1988 I began working for an in-house advertising agency in Lexington. One of my co-workers, Bill Martinez, was a Christian. He was always kind, respectful, and caring.

One Saturday night, unexpectedly, I asked my partner if she wanted to go to church the next morning. We were so emotionally enmeshed with one another that I think if I had suggested jumping off a bridge, she would have agreed. We looked in the phone book and found Versailles Presbyterian Church. It was a small congregation of predominantly older couples, so when my partner and I showed up, it was obvious.

I became involved in the church immediately: I went to Wednesday night potlucks and an adult Sunday school class; I even joined the adult handbell choir. A couple in their seventies, Doris and L.J., took us under their wings.

L.J., Doris and Bill knew the life I was living. They were discerning people, and, of course, I looked the part. They met me where I was, accepted me with grace, loved me unconditionally and prayed for me fervently. It was through relationship with them that I was led to make the most important decision of my life. One day in February of ’91, I said quietly in my heart, “Jesus, I need You. I receive You. Please, please, please come and be the Savior of my soul and the Lord of my life.” And He did. And a new seed was planted!

When my partner gave me my first Bible I discovered there were a number of scriptures that addressed homosexuality: Leviticus 20:13, Deuteronomy 23:18, Romans 1:27 and 1 Corinthians 6:9. This is when the wrestling ensued.

For months I went around and around with the Lord. I didn’t understand. I argued with Him, begged Him, ignored Him, hurt Him and fled from Him. One night with clinched fists and tears streaming down my face, I yelled at Him, “If it is so wrong, if it is an abomination, why did You let me go down that road? Why didn’t You stop me? Why?” Silence.

The Bible says the Word of God is “living and active.” That it’s “sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” Isaiah 55:11 also says that God’s word will not return empty, but it will accomplish what God desires and achieve the purposes for which He sends it. Over the next months, the Holy Spirit continued to work God’s truth in my heart until I ultimately came to the point where I knew that I knew what I was doing was wrong. Even in my confusion, even in my anger, even in my rebellion, God showered me with His kindness, which led to repentance. In October ’92, by His grace, I repented of my years of sexual sin. And the new seed sprouted.

I heard about Exodus as I was getting ready for church one morning on “The Coral Ridge Hour,” produced by Dr. James Kennedy’s ministry. I had never heard of Exodus before. I listened as men and women shared their testimonies of change. I watched in utter amazement. I had no idea there was anyone else who had made the decision to walk away from homosexuality, much less to say that they had changed.

I called Exodus first thing Monday morning and received a packet from them by the end of the week. I ripped into that packet as if it were Christmas morning. Enclosed was a state-by-state alphabetical listing of referral ministries. I scanned the list as quickly as I could, and in bold letters I read: “CrossOver Ministries, Lexington, Kentucky.” I broke down and wept. As excited as I was to receive that material, though, I was more afraid. For three months that information sat in the top drawer of the desk in my home office. Eventually, because of God’s wooing grace, I called CrossOver. The next week, I met with the ministry’s director.

As a participant of CrossOver, I immediately involved myself in the support groups, one-on-one counseling, reading literature and resources and attending conferences. I began to learn the various factors that contributed to my same-gender attractions: my perceived rejection of my biological mother and father, my perception that my adoptive mother was distant and stoic and that my adoptive father was emotionally absent, sexual molestation, sexual experimentation, with both sexes, during my preteen years, understanding the schemes of the devil, and dozens and dozens of lies I believed about everything. I began to take responsibility for my own sinful beliefs, choices, and behaviors. Most importantly, though, I began to learn about the Holy Trinity and to form a relationship with each Person.

During my years of restoration, I also began to learn about this thing called womanhood. Goodness! Who knew there was so much to learn: plucking eyebrows, hair bleaches, hair waxings, facial mud masks, eye lash curlers, manicures, pedicures, push-up bras, tummy tuckers, rear-end boosters, last year’s colors, and next year’s fashions?

I also began to learn about boys. Let me say that if anyone thinks puberty is tough at fifteen, try it in your thirties!

And the seed flowered.

Additional Information:
Melissa Fryrear is the Gender Issues Analyst at Focus on the Family in Colorado Springs, Colorado as well as the Eastern Great Lakes Basin Exodus Regional Representative. She is the former director of CrossOver Ministries in Lexington, Kentucky.

Just a "Good Christian Boy"
By Jeff Johnston

Every August, from the time I was eight years old through high school, I would pack a suitcase, get on a bus loaded with 20 or 30 other kids, and drive from San Diego through the California high desert to the San Bernardino Mountains.

Our church camp was near a lake surrounded by tall pines and oaks, and we would go up for a week of swimming, hiking, volleyball, crafts, archery and fishing. Each year I invited Jesus into my heart again--just to make sure. I had already accepted Him as my Savior when I was five years old. But you never knew, maybe I hadn’t really meant it the first time. So I prayed the prayer of salvation again, just to ease the nagging doubts.

At camp, I heard dramatic stories about recent conversions from sins like drinking, smoking, cussing, shoplifting or listening to bad music. I remember feeling a bit cheated, wishing that I had a testimony of a huge turnaround from sin to Jesus. Growing up in a fundamentalist church hadn’t given me too many opportunities to indulge in illicit behaviors.

Being Good
As I grew up, I worked hard at being good. Life revolved mostly around church and school, and I kept busy at both. My family spent hours each week in church-related activities: worship service, Sunday school, the evening Gospel service, midweek prayer meetings, conferences, and Bible studies. Our church emphasized obedience and the Word, so I worked to master both. I knew little about experiencing God or knowing His grace.

In elementary school I was shy and withdrawn, and I escaped through the world of reading. I devoured books, reading whenever I could. In junior high and high school I began to come out of my shell, holding offices in student government and competing with the speech and debate teams. While I managed to look pretty good on the outside, I began struggling on the inside with some heavy issues. Despite the circle of people around me at church and school, I had always felt lonely and isolated. I was sick a lot as a child, and always small for my age, so I felt inept at sports and separate from a lot of other boys.

Pornography and Shame
In junior high I discovered pornography and masturbation, and become compulsive about both. I felt shame and guilt, afraid that someone would find out what I was doing. I became even more disturbed when my fascination with pornography began to shift from women to men.

I kept up the outer image of the good Christian boy for years, even as the struggle with sexual addiction and homosexual attraction increased. I graduated from high school and went to college, working as a camp counselor at our church camp during the summer and helping to lead our college-age Bible study. In my early 20s, I worked with a high school youth group at a church for a year, and then went to a missionary training school for a year of preparation before going to Melbourne, Australia, for two years with a mission team.

By this time I had begun developing deeper relationships with a few people, and had even shared my struggle with a man and a woman. They really didn't know how to advise me about my same-sex attractions. I figured if I kept praying real hard it might just go away, or maybe I would grow out of it.

I began hunting for Christian books about homosexuality, but in the early '80s there were few books addressing the issue. I worked harder at obedience, but struggled more and more with my internal desires.

Finding Hope
In January 1986, when I really felt at the end of myself, I found some hope. I was finishing my BA degree and working part-time as a youth intern with a Baptist church. The youth pastor invited me to a conference called "Hope and Healing for the Homosexual."

At first, I felt fearful; how did he know I struggled with homosexuality? Later, he told me that a man had sexually molested one of the boys in our high school group. The pastor simply wanted to understand more about homosexuality and molestation.

I attended the conference with great anxiety. But there, for the first time, I heard some of the reasons why I had homosexual feelings. I learned that gay men are often emotionally disconnected from their fathers and from other boys while growing up. Sometimes the longings for identification with men and the resulting relationships are sexualized. Often this is because an individual has been molested or exposed to sex at an early age, as I had been.

Fellowship with Other Strugglers
After the conference I started seeing a counselor, began attending a Homosexuals Anonymous group and found some helpful books. It was a relief to find other Christians with some of the same issues. I had kept this part of my life hidden for years, but slowly I began talking to friends and family about my struggle. Where I feared rejection, I usually found compassion and concern.

Oddly enough, it was after I had been working on recovery for about 18 months that I got involved in my first adult homosexual relationship. I had fought these feelings for so long, but up to that point I had never acted out with another man. The closest I came was "approach/avoidance" games, where I would let a man come on to me, but then back off before anything happened. I was tired of fighting my same-sex attractions, and I finally gave in to them.

But this only brought more stress and anxiety. Again, I found myself living a double life, hiding the relationship from friends and family. I would go to church most Sundays, but hang out at gay bars and clubs during the week. My stomach was all tied up in knots; I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I kept thinking: Why am I doing this when I know so much about homosexuality?

After about a year of this turmoil, I'd had enough. I knew I needed to return to relationship with Jesus and cut off the homosexual relationships. I went to the Exodus conference in 1988, where I received prayer and support for my decision. I returned to counseling. Most importantly, I decided that if homosexuality was really a desire for same-sex intimacy, then I would pursue healthy, nonsexual male relationships.

A New Commitment
I was pretty hurt, lonely and wounded, but I committed myself to a church with a large singles ministry. There, I developed a number of healing relationships. One man discipled me. I met with two other men weekly for friendship and accountability.

I moved in with several roommates; all of them knew about my struggle, but they accepted me into their lives. I found great healing in those relationships, healing for the deep loneliness I had felt, and healing for my fragile masculine identity.

In July 1990 I started leading the home group where I had been a member for two years. Our group always had visitors, and my first night leading the group, a young woman walked in. I noticed how cute she looked, but I was thinking more about the discussion topic than anything else.

Judy stayed in our home group, even though she said she had every intention of visiting other groups. Six months later we were dating, and a few months later I told her my story. Her first response was to go to a conference in order to understand more about homosexuality. At that conference she decided that she couldn't focus on my struggle, that she could only focus on her own relationship with God and her own spiritual growth.

Moving into Ministry
I had long felt God moving me into ministry of some sort, and in January 1992, I started an ex-gay support group through a local ministry in San Diego called Alternatives. I began sharing with others what I was learning of God's healing. Slowly my relationship with Judy developed. The next year I took over as the director of the ministry, worked as an intern at church, went to seminary, and married Judy--what a year! Then, after several more years, Judy and I moved to Maryland when I was hired as director of Regeneration, an Exodus ministry in Baltimore.

We are excited to see how God has provided and to see the new opportunities opening up for us. Now I look back on the irony of my wish for a "testimony" to share. Coming out of homosexuality and sexual addiction was not what I had in mind. But I know that my story, and stories of many like me, can bring hope to those struggling with any life-dominating sin.