So I was gay. I had been pulled out of the fires of hell that was the gay lifestyle. I (mostly)lived apart from my desires. I wasn’t going to hell (although I thought I might) because I was still attracted to guys (still am) even though I had been promised God would make me straight. Had I done something to anger Him?
I was too bitter about not being delivered from being gay and too angry from the perception that all Christians thought I was going to hell (Fred Phelps didn’t help any), so I wouldn’t go back to church. As a believer though, I still hungered after God and tried to appease Him. Maybe then He would make me straight.
I learned Hebrew and could read it quite well; the speaking part not so much, as there aren’t many Jews here (this is Baptist country). I learned Biblical history and knew the history of Noah and how they repopulated the Earth (I don’t buy into all that evolution nonsense). I studied all the kings of Israel and Judah, even as I continued to bed down with Jason.
I identified a lot with Mary Magdalene because I had almost become a prostitute myself. I studied a lot of eschatology (study of prophecy) and was very informed on many theories of who the Antichrist was (Bill Clinton was a popular candidate and was Saddam Hussein). I read every conspiracy theory about the Illuminati, the Rothschilds, the New World Order, the Prophecy Club.
For a while I was a good little republican (not anything anymore). I opposed higher taxes and more government control, hated abortion (still do). I went to church on the obligatory holidays like Easter and Christmas. So why was I still gay? I assumed (wrongly) that I was God’s bastard child. Yeah, He acknowledged me from a distance, but since I was the only gay Christian he was keeping Himself distant from me. I mean, how could God love a faggot like me? I certainly wouldn’t. I couldn’t even keep from being with Jason, even though by this time I was married.
I was in for one rude awakening on September 24, 2012…