Countless times I had thrown myself onto my therapist’s coach and proclaimed in utter frustration, “I just want normal problems!”  To which my patient therapist would reply, “What is normal?”  “Anything but this!” (meaning of course my same-sex attraction issues).  While I engaged in this silent debate with myself, the speaker went on to explain how homosexuality really isn’t about sex; it’s about legitimate unmet needs that are desperately trying to be satisfied.

That revelation occurred more than six years ago while I was attending a Pastoral Care Ministries school led by Leanne Payne.  Mario Bergner was the speaker who’d so captivated me.  I’ve learned a lot about myself and about the healing process since then.  I went back to school to become a therapist so that I could help others on their healing journeys.  In my new role I’ve had the pleasure and privilege of talking about my experiences with other therapists so that they may better understand and assist their clients.  I would like to share some of those points with you.

Many of us (especially Christians) with SSA issues live under a heavy burden of shame and guilt.  It isn’t foundationally about something we’ve done, although we may have plenty of actions we feel shameful/guilty about; it’s ultimately shame about who we are.  No matter how I appeared on the outside, I felt hollow inside.  Like a chocolate Easter bunny that can be crushed with very little effort, I too was fragile, easily broken and fragmented.  I had no sense of being.  I didn’t know who I was and what I did know about myself I despised.  With acts of sin I could ask for forgiveness and be restored to a right relationship with God -- but how could I ask forgiveness for who I was when that seemed so unchangeable?

That insatiable emptiness could never be filled by human relationships no matter how much I tried.  It was like attempting to fill a well with a leak.  Until the hole is found and plugged, the mission is a futile one.  In her writings Leanne Payne describes prayer for a sense of being and well-being, and as I received that prayer I gradually gained an awareness of who I was in Christ.  I began to feel solid for the first time in my life!

I grew up in a dysfunctional family (who hasn’t?), and my relationship skills were hindered by co-dependent and emotionally dependent pitfalls.  I needed healthy, non-erotic same-sex friendships, but I was terrified of becoming close to other women for fear I’d be sexually attracted to them.  I still believed that even the attraction to women was sinful.

I proceeded very slowly in this area and with the help of my therapist began exploring how to have healthy same-sex friendships.  I learned not to obsess when I met an interesting new person but instead I allowed the friendship to develop naturally and refused to get sucked in and consumed, as is typical of emotionally dependent relationships.  I pursued friendships with “safe” women; for me, this meant women who didn’t struggle as I did so I wouldn’t be as tempted to cross boundaries.  When another attraction arose, my therapist helped me evaluate what it was about the woman that appealed to me.  As I described her, my therapist exclaimed, “It sounds as if you’re describing yourself!”

Another epiphany: since I couldn’t accept myself, I was seeking out others who were like me in order to find myself somehow acceptable.  Once I understood this, it wasn’t as scary to experience feelings of attraction.  As I stayed with the friendship, the feelings would lessen as the initial infatuation wore off.  It was also helpful to maintain several good friendships at the same time in order to stay balanced and not focus too much on one person and thus become emotionally dependent, as was the case in most of my past relationships. 

When I talk to therapists, I remind them that their job is not to make decisions for their clients – it’s to help them explore options and to make decisions for themselves.  This may seem like strange advice in light of the Bible’s teaching on homosexual behavior; however, we cannot control another person’s decisions or behavior.  This is best left in God’s hands, for He is more than capable of speaking to those who are truly seeking Him.  

One of the most freeing events in my life was when my Christian therapist encouraged me to consider all my options seriously, including living as a lesbian.  She assigned a journaling exercise and asked me to write out several life scenarios based on my situation at the time.  I was actually quite shocked that a Christian therapist would counsel me even to think about the possibility of making that choice.  I’d never considered the gay lifestyle an option, so by not making a conscious choice I kept it as an option subconsciously for whenever I became lonely, stressed or felt rejected.

When I allowed myself to contemplate the possibility, I found that in spite of the lifestyle’s appealing aspects I would eventually be extremely unhappy living contrary to my spiritual and moral convictions.  With this realization I had a stronger sense of the person I was called to be and the double-mindedness that I’d unknowingly been harboring began to fade.  I can’t say that it was all smooth sailing from there or that my struggles became a “piece of cake,” but I can say that it became easier to face those struggles with the convictions that helped me go through the process.

It can be difficult to know how to share our struggles or whom to share them with.  The fear of rejection is often a reality as we seek to be transparent to those who may not be ready to hear our story.  The dilemma for us is that in order to walk in the light and continue our healing, we must be open with others.  Proverbs 28:13 (NLT) says: “People who cover over their sins will not prosper.  But if they confess and forsake them, they will receive mercy.”  Ongoing accountability is key, but we must have safe and trustworthy people in our lives in order to achieve it.

During one particularly challenging period, I was able to confide in my pastors.  They showed unconditional love and yet held me to a high standard without thinking less of me for having struggles.  They weren’t experts at this, but they supported me through them and turned to more knowledgeable people when necessary.  They proved to me that they were reliable, but it was up to me to approach them and ask for help.  I had to humble myself more than once and confess my sin and in that process I received a lot of healing.  It was one of the hardest times in my life and there were days when my constant prayer was, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.”

This brings me to my last and most significant point.  It is the concept of redemptive suffering.  As a therapist I’m often called to sit with my clients in their pain.  This may be in silence, it may be sharing tears or it may simply be by my presence with them.  It can be a daunting task because it’s so difficult to see another person in pain or discomfort.  We want to fix it, to make the pain go away.  Human instinct is toward comfort and we want to do everything we can to relieve discomfort.

There’s no question that we will suffer in this life, but we do have the choice of how we will suffer.  Even though it goes against our natural inclinations, we can choose to experience suffering in the presence of Christ.  The Apostle Paul reminds us: “But if we are to share His glory, we must also share His suffering.” (Romans 8:17)  Suffering is redemptive when we offer it up to Christ and entrust our anguish to the healing power of the cross.

When I’m dealing with a lot of pain, I’ll often carry a crucifix in my pocket as a token that Christ shares in my suffering. Growing up Protestant I couldn’t understand why anyone would want a cross with Jesus still on it.  After all, He was risen and victorious, no longer hanging there.  It’s because of my own suffering that I can so closely identify with the suffering Christ who “bears our grief and carries our sorrow.”   In the last decade I’ve come to appreciate greatly the reminder of the suffering that the crucifix represents and sometimes actually prefer it to an “empty” cross.

One thing I know for certain is that even though I would never have chosen the struggles I’ve had (I wanted normal problems, remember?), the experience of God’s grace and mercy in my life has created a depth of faith and relationship with Him that I wouldn’t have attained in any other way.  And I wouldn’t trade those results for anything.