God heals homosexuals, but not from homosexuality

I used to be careless with love. I don't mean that I loved others so fearlessly that I was uninhibited and reckless in my adoration for them. Rather, I was careless in the way that I received unconditional love from others--from God, from my family, and from Angela. I loved Angela, I loved my sister, I loved my parents, and I loved God, but some part of me shut down when it came to wholly accepting their love and displaying mine—unrestricted at least—in return. I grew up in a tight-knit family where love was readily available, and as I matured love became sort of an unspoken backdrop that I didn't really have to consciously think about. On some level I guess I figured it would always be there. This allowed me to become careless with it. Rather than learn how to fully appreciate something so delicate and valuable and receive it wholeheartedly, I became quick to discard it.

This nearly destroyed my relationship with Angela three years ago when I began to look for contentment and validation outside of our relationship. I began to seek unconditional love in places where primarily conditional love is found--namely in bars where so much depends upon physical appearance, material possessions, and the ability to entertain. When all of these conditions are adequately met, adoration follows. I became interested in satisfying the conditions that would produce the most immediately gratifying results (i.e. inflate my ego), and in that process I became willing to throw away huge blessings in exchange for that temporary fulfillment. This happened after Angela and I had been together for nearly four years.

When Angela offered unconditional love to me, although I loved her, I found myself thinking since this love was so readily available it must be easy to find, and that I owed it to myself to seek it in other places. Quite simply, I was selfish and spoiled. Since I had sensed so much love my entire life, from my family, from God, and in due course from Angela, I selfishly assumed that I would be able to find it in abundance at any time, nearly anywhere I looked. It is good that the love I had received gave me such optimism and confidence in the decency of the world, but unfortunately, it also gave my ego a skewed sense of reality and an inflated sense of self-worth that caused me to constantly look beyond what I had in search of more. I didn’t treat love like the precious, valuable, and rare object that it is, instead treating love as a limitless resource that I assumed I would be able to tap on a whim and that I would always have plenty of. Today, I know that love is neither guaranteed nor limitless unless it comes from God. And that is a direct result of the goodness of God, not the goodness of Jen. I don't deserve it.

The real problem in the past was the lack of unconditional love that I had for myself. Inside I was regularly hampered by self-doubt and insecurity, with, at best, a conditional appreciation for myself. I liked myself more when I was twenty pounds lighter as opposed to twenty pounds heavier. I enjoyed being me when I felt smart, but not so much when I felt like others knew more than I knew. I felt adequate when I was working hard toward a goal, but I had little respect for myself when I took time to relax on a day off. I had difficulty accepting every part of myself, strengths, weaknesses, and all.

I have no doubt this difficulty receiving unconditional love was directly related to my homosexuality. Although I am one hundred percent homosexual and could not live any other way with any degree of integrity or happiness or contentment, I had often considered my homosexuality to be a black mark against me, which led my subconscious mind to conclude that I was unlovable to some degree. When offered, unconditional love then became hard to comprehend, let alone accept and receive, and I almost instinctively shyed away from the sources that emitted it. Unconditional love may radiate from a parent, from a partner, from God, or even from a complete stranger, but no gay person will be able to immerse him or herself in it fully until he or she rejects self-doubt and self-hatred and begins to see homosexuality as a gift and not a flaw.

My relationship with Angela was bound to feel the effects at some point, given this degree of self-hatred. By self-hatred, I do not mean that I consciously despised myself, but simply that I did not fully embrace every part of myself in ways that would allow me to accept unconditional love when it was offered. Since I couldn't fully accept unconditional love, it became impossible to freely offer it to others. I suppose, to some degree, I could not figure out why I, a person with such numerous flaws, deserved to be offered a love that so fully embraced me in the first place. But then, the very nature of unconditional love is rooted in the idea that we do not deserve it, because it flows much more deeply than superficial rights and wrongs, and remains, for the most part, unaffected by thoughts and actions. Although love is a constant force, it comes from the giver voluntarily and not because it is owed. I don't believe God loves us because God has to or because God owes it to us. We don't deserve something that redemptive and wonderful. God loves us because God is good. When I finally owned that, rapid healing followed.

I'll never be a perfect giver and receiver of love. But as God has worked to heal me and teach me more about how to love unconditionally and to accept unconditional love in return, I have become a much happier, contented, and capable person. There is no constant edge that stems from the inability to love and accept myself unconditionally. Instead there is peace that has grown out of maturity. It will continue to grow as I continue to mature.

Not only has God healed me, but God has also healed and blessed my relationship with Angela. We've been together for seven years now, and today marks the third anniversary of our holy union. I still feel undeserving of this blessing at times, but now I think it's due to humility, and an unabashed appreciation of the love itself. The fullness of that first hit me during our holy union ceremony three years ago, and the tears came in a flood. I remember the pastor telling me at the end of the ceremony that I might have to fix my makeup. I was a mess. I think perhaps I came close to realizing the depth of God’s love and grace as I stood at the altar with Angela that day, but I doubt that I will ever fully comprehend it.

Angela doesn't love me because she has to, and I don't love her because I have to. It is out of the goodness of God that we are able to. That is something to be grateful for and to treat with the utmost respect and care. Our gender is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. It's our hearts, minds, and actions that contribute to success or failure of the relationship and give it worth, and as God works in us individually and in the relationship, it becomes greater than the sum of its parts. There is power and healing in that. To God be the glory.