Before you read, listen to the song “Child, I Will Not Forget You” - Listen here - https://youtu.be/AULCz8ptB3I?si=xQOnSxJB-gMdCUZ-

By the time I was nine years old, I had become sexually active...still in the realm of experimenting with other boys...but sexually active. Raised near a small town of about 400 people, same-sex attractions were simply not talked about or tolerated. Of course, there was the young man who flaunted his homosexuality. As if his mannerisms weren’t enough, the halter-tops in summer were pretty much a dead give-away. Seen as a curiosity more than something to be concerned about, this young man was ignored for the most part. “He’s not normal. My kids are fine,” was the “general attitude. This young man’s actions were so blatantly out there it made guys like me seem a little more normal.

At the age of none I had an experience that would—for quite a long time—alter not only my perception of myself, but also my perception of what others thought of it and most importantly, altered my perception of what God was like.

I grew up going to church. My dad was the song leader at our little Baptist church—the same church my grandfather had pastured when my mom (his daughter) was in high school. Because I could play the piano by ear and had grown up knowing the hymns, I began playing for the children’s worship times in Sunday School and eventually began playing for the hymn services in the regular worship times by the time I was about 10 years of age. I loved to play...but, again, my performance brought me respect from those in the generation of my parents...and this made me feel better about myself—and helped take my mind off of what the kids at school said about me.

One Sunday morning after playing the piano for Sunday School, my brothers, cousins, and I ran out of the classroom and up to the front steps of the church building. One of our favorite Sunday activities was jumping off of the wall and running back up the steps and jumping off again and again, pretending we could fly. After all, we all had PF Flyers so we could run faster and jump higher! While we, played the men would congregate next to that wall and talk before the Sunday morning worship time. By this age, I was very interested in what others thought of me so when the conversation of these men focused on homosexuals they had my attention for sure.

These men were men I had grown up admiring. They were good men whom I respected a great deal. Some of these men had taught me Sunday School through my formative years...and I thought they knew everything! As they described what they thought of homosexuals—queers, as they called them—my heart froze in shock. I could feel the heat run through my body as fear began to flood my mind. As they gave their thoughts on what should be done with people like this, I realized they were talking about me! “They didn’t know they were talking about me...but I did. As a nine year old who had just heard something like this, where would “hought they knew everything! As they described what they thought of homosexuals—queers, as they called them—my heart froze in shock. I could feel the heat run through my body as fear began to flood my mind. As they gave their thoughts on what should be done with people like this, I realized they were talking about me! They didn’t know they were talking about me...but I did. As a nine year old who had just heard something like this, where would you have gone for help? What would you have thought of yourself? What would you have thought about God?

On that day, I began to believe several lies that would become detrimental to the formation of my identity as a homosexual. My emotional sensitivity and artistic gifts were somehow good yet somehow abnormal...if these men who knew God so well thought these things about people like me, then God must hate me, too...homosexuality was so disgusting and vile that even God would have nothing to do with me. I would never be able to tell anyone of my struggles. If I did, they would surely not understand. Then it hit me. This was what hopelessness felt like...

After this most eye-opening encounter, I withdrew even more from any semblance of real relationship. Even more than before, I had to perform well in order to be accepted. I had to perform well in order to maintain the facade of normalcy. I had to perform to be loved.

Questions for Meditation

• In what areas of your life are you simply performing for the approval and acceptance and affirmation of others?

• If you were unable to perform to the standards you deem acceptable what would you have left to base your identity on?

• List the moments of your life you have felt utterly helpless. How did you deal with each one?

• How have these incidents shaped your perception of others? of yourself? Of God?

Even in Their Sleep

As you fall to sleep tonight, allow the Lord access to your thoughts. Give Him permission to dredge up old hurts that led to feelings of hopelessness and despair. When you rise in the morning, write down what you saw then set them aside for later consideration.

Listen to the song “Child, I Will Not Forget You" and hear Father’s heart for you. Listen here - https://youtu.be/AULCz8ptB3I?si=xQOnSxJB-gMdCUZ-

Excerpt From the book Victim to Victor by Dennis Jernigan

Drawing courtesy of https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2024/03/02/13/28/ai-generated-8608570_1280.png