Abandoned
Loneliness hits at the strangest time.
Yesterday, I got to hang out with Amber Isborn because our kids had a playdate during the day, then in the evening, I went to the Blazer’s opening game with Cindy Payne. The night before, I got to have a spa date with Angela Lawton. I actually don’t ever go out two nights in a row like this and rarely even go out twice in a week.
You see, I prayed for girlfriends. I have mourned the loss of many friends so now I’m not only investing in the girlfriends I already have, but I’m making new ones. God is blessing me. It’s like I have girlfriends coming out of the woodworks.
So, why do I feel so lonely?
This is what I discovered: I’m mourning the loss of friends from my past 8 years.
Some of my closest friends I bonded with most were from my old church. We worked together, we spent every day together, we shared life together… FRIENDS. But, when I left that church, it felt as if I was ex-communicated immediately by many. It was almost as if I was no longer someone they needed to invest time in because I no longer had anything to offer them. I could no longer help meet their need, so the “friendship” was over too. I’m not saying this is what REALLY happened… I’m just saying this is how it FELT to me.
Then, I came out with my secret. I know “they” know. ”They”… the one’s I didn’t actually tell face-to-face because the rumor mill beat me to it… but save TWO friends, “they” never called.
Don’t get me wrong. I am certain I still have many friends from that church. In fact, some have walked me through the last eight months and prayed us through our hardest times. I will FOREVER be grateful for them. What I am merely saying is this: I am overwhelmingly sad to have spent so many years serving with people who no longer nod at my existence. Sad.
So… here are my thoughts:
I am someone who most recognize.
I was on the platform.
I was on staff… oversaw a ministry.
I was usually surrounded by people, friends, acquaintances.
I’m outgoing and PLUGGED into the church.
I’m pretty foundationally secure in my faith.
However… when my world fell apart, I felt abandoned… outcasted… gossiped about… forgotten by the church I spent 8 years at.
WHAT ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE?
What about the unrecognized?
The quiet church-goer?
The silent servant volunteer?
The lonely “un-friendable”?
The reserved and unplugged?
The foundationally insecure… the roamer?
What about them?
This is not about me. This isn’t about “that” church. This is about the UNchurched… the hurting… the alone… the SINNER… like you and me. This is about them. This is about what WE are doing for THEM.
40“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ 41“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’ 44“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ 45“He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’
~ Matthew 25:40-45
Come on, Church… it’s time to step up when the times get tough.
David Goodwin: Stereotyped?
Today’s post was written by my friend, David Goodwin.
David and his wife, Diane, are a part of my LifeGroup Online group. We’ve been meeting for over a year now and I can honestly say that David & Diane are a couple we have not only come to love deeply, but trust fully.
Just like me, David is the Worship Director at his church in Australia and better yet, sang in a barbershop quartet in high school. For those of you who don’t know… I did too.
David and Diane are not fair-weathered friends. They are faithful, constant, loving, merciful, strong, brave, gracious and forgiving. All the things I work towards being more of.
They have stood firmly in God’s word, encouraging and supporting me often but have also called me out in truth when needed. These two are my prayer warriors. I believe they are this way because they THEMSELVES have weathered the storm… many times.
Read these wise, grace-filled words… and take it to heart.
Without further adieu, please welcome… DAVID GOODWIN.
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I don’t talk about it. With anyone. Ever.
That’s mainly because I don’t think I want the consequences I think will come from talking about it. But I don’t know if those consequences are real or imagined. It’s not as though no-one knows, and a large percentage of people I meet assume what I’m about to say anyway, despite the factual evidence to the contrary.
However…
For most of my life, I was gay.
Or rather, I believed the lie that I was gay and nothing could be done about it.
That’s the first time I’ve ever written those words.
And I’m not making a song and dance about it (maybe I should…using “Single Ladies“ and the cast of Glee), but it’s a large part of my life testimony that’s essentially been torn out of the story book.
Until now.
Don’t misunderstand me, this is my past, not my future. My former self, not my current self. Who I was, not who I am.
While I was gay…
- I didn’t fully embrace the lifestyle, though I had opportunity…and wanted to.
- I didn’t cut off from my Christian family, though I moved far from them, partly for fear of rejection.
- I didn’t leave church physically, though I did emotionally and spiritually.
- I didn’t stop being a Christian. Sin doesn’t revoke salvation.
What I did do was allow spiritual oppression to come upon me. That’s OK. We all do that from time to time.
It’s not right, but it’s OK. (thanks Whitney…)
Wait. Isn’t homosexuality genetic? Well, despite this video clearly explaining from 1m40s onward that the Greeks invented gayness (ironic comedy people), the consensus on homosexuality is as clear as the science on evolution, but I’m not here to debate.
I’m just filling in some lifestory gaps.
I’ve always been camp. It’s who I was, who I still am, there’s nothing wrong with that. But for years, I let the lifestyle the world stereotypically associates with male sensitivity/creativity/propensity-to-break-out-in-Broadway-musicals-in-supermarkets override my God-given destiny.
And I knew something was wrong. That’s why I never went all in. The Holy Spirit within me kept nudging. Only I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t have the knowledge I needed to understand this condition wasn’t “just the way it is”.
So I accepted a lie. A miserable, debauched lie. satan was having his way with me.
But God, in His grace and mercy, set people across my path who opened my eyes to battles taking place in the spiritual realm affecting our physical lives. All gleaned from Scripture, but I’d never seen it before. It all made sense.
How could I have been so blind?
(Yeah, dumb question in hindsight. satan’s aim is to find ways of blindfolding us from the Light. he’s good at it)
Armed with new knowledge (and fresh revelation of past experiences…like the time I was protected by a visible angel…another story…), I went into battle. With help from friends new and old, satan lost yet another fight. He didn’t go down quietly – he never does – but that’s why the weapons God gives us for warfare are strong and mighty for breaking down strongholds.
The mind-games satan played on me involved stereotypes. he uses these seemingly innocuous casts to convince us that you can’t break the mold.
So he tries all sorts of crap…
- you can’t be a straight man and understand the difference between stilettos and pumps.
- you can’t desire a woman and be interested in why she prefers Napoleon Perdis over M.A.C.
- and you can’t be a heterosexual male and not only understand what these books are saying, but also how to implement the advice therein for the greater good.
Except you can, and even though society is more accepting of the concept that being metrosexual and heterosexual can be mutually inclusive, what society accepts doesn’t matter.
It’s all about God. And I don’t want it any other way. He’s jealous, He loves me, and I love Him. I’m choosing the destiny He’s mapped out for me, often against the will of my flesh. Even though I don’t have the same battles as my former self, life presents new conflicts of will. In every instance, I want to be sure I choose Life over life.
After this battle was won He was able to set me on an entirely unexpected path. One where I’d meet my wife. Via the internet. And travel the world. And emigrate. And break into song in supermarkets together.
But much of that part of the story has been documented. With video. And fluorescent swirls on my shirt. I look hawt.
My Pool (Part Four)
After almost two years, the affair ended… as all do in one way or another. And there I was: alone with my thoughts.. I had been treading for almost 30 years in very murky, polluted waters.
All I ever wanted was to matter.
I wanted to be LOVED by someone…
I wanted to be GREAT at something…
I wanted to be REMEMBERED when I was gone…
And the truth was… I had MADE it. By the age of 30 I had attained everything I ever set out to acquire. So why did I feel like such a nobody?
My relationship with God was starting to pick up again. This was good except He wanted to heal me. The NERVE, right? He was starting to reveal root issues I had buried so deeply, I wasn’t even aware they existed. These were things I wasn’t ready to face.
My life was a swimming pool FULL of trash. God was helping me bring all of my rubbish to the surface, but it was up to me whether I wanted to use my net to fish it out. I knew if I were to grab the net, I would have to really look at the trash before I could destroy it once and for all. It was much easier to just push everything back down and just never swim in the pool.
On the outside, my life still looked fine. I accepted a new position at Church at Bethany as the Worship Pastor. Brian and I got pregnant and birthed another healthy little boy, Paxton. Chance started his first year of preschool. I was happy… but I should have been ecstatic about my life. My secrets were eating me alive. I was missing out on my OWN life and couldn’t recognize it.
You see… my pool wasn’t only for me. Brian, Chance, Paxton, our family, and all our friends were gathered around it… just waiting for me to give them the “ok” to jump in and play. And man, did they want to play… it’s always a hot day around here. But my pool was polluted and not safe for anyone to swim in.
It was time to clean my pool.
I told Brian about my affair, and the following 5 months were beyond painful. My pool had been stirred and now the waters looked murkier. I didn’t know if we were going to make it. By the looks of it, this mess was getting worse. This was NOT what I had signed up for.
As I was “fishing”, I began to get really angry. I noticed that though most of the trash was tossed in by ME, a LOT of it was from other people. However, I had a choice: to place blame and wait for “them” to come clean up their litter, or just take ownership and clean the parts that affected me. I was mourning some deep, deep issues for the first time. It hurt… but it was good..
While God was re-surfacing all my trash, and I was obediently fishing each and every item out one-by-one… my friends and loved ones had put a brand new filter in my pool. I didn’t know it at the time, but the friends and family we had told were intercessing on our behalf. They were helping me clean my pool without me even asking.
** Thank you, my dear friends. Even now, as I write this, I sit… tearfully and humbly thankful to each and every one of you. Thank you. **
My focus was tightly wrapped up in the rubbish I was taking out. I mourned each and every re-surfaced piece of trash I once treasured. I was permanently destroying the remnants of my garbage in a huge bonfire… when one day, Brian and I looked in and noticed the most amazing sight. Not only were the waters clean, but the once cluttered pool bottom was now cleared of ALL debris. And there stood Jesus, inviting us in with some floaty recliners and margaritas, complete with those cute little drink umbrellas made by underaged and underpaid third world children (you still there? just checkin’ to see if you’re still reading).
Friends… all of us have a pool. And if we don’t tend to it, it will become polluted and dirty, rendering it completely useless. I also want to reiterate that I didn’t do this alone. Christ was there, Brian was there, and friends were there.
This can’t happen overnight. It’s really grueling work that seems hopeless and never-ending at times. You don’t have to do it alone… but to get help, you need to be willing to show others how dirty your pool really is. I, for one, promise to help get you a filter for your pool if you tell me you need one.
I’m not saying my pool will be clean forever. Occasionally, trash will drift in and the water will get stagnant. I know Brian and I will need to drain the pool at times in our next 70+ years together and put fresh water in… but it sure is a lot easier to upkeep when we don’t let it build up.
What’s in your pool?
Isn’t it time to go swimming with all your loved ones?
I think so, friends… I think so.
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To read the whole series:
Part One: In My Daddy’s Lap
Part Two: Floater
Part Three: My Empire
In My Daddy’s Lap (Part One)
My parents divorced when I was seven.
Wait… actually… I have no idea WHEN they divorced. The accurate statement would be… the announcement of the divorce happened when I was seven.
My childhood before seven was somewhat innocently happy. I remember Dad teaching me how to play “cat’s cradle“ and Mom bringing home the most amazing birthday cakes. But what’s interesting is, I don’t remember much of anything about my family life between the ages of seven and twelve. I have NO MEMORIES of home life in that 5 year life span.
Uh… therapy anyone? Yeah… don’t worry… I’m on that like a fat kid on a box of ding-dongs.
Let’s back up a bit: The day my mother told us they were divorcing, I remember feeling EXTREMELY confused.
I was old enough to know what “divorce” meant, but I never heard OR saw my parents fight. Heck… I barely remembered ever seeing them talk. I never thought the divorce was my fault, but I didn’t know WHY they needed a divorce since everything seemed “fine”. What confused me even more was why my Mom pulled us three girls into my bedroom to tell us ALONE when my Dad was sitting right in the living room watching football. ”Isn’t this something they should be doing together?” I kept asking myself.
It felt like an hour had passed in that room. I didn’t hear a thing that was said. I remember my sister, Renee, crying and my baby sister, Helen, crawling all over the place. That baby had no clue our world was about to drastically change. All I wanted to do was get OUT of that room and jump into my Dad’s lap.
Once the “meeting” was over… I did just that.
My sister, Renee, and I ran and jumped into my Dad’s lap. I remember Renee asking him,
“Why, Daddy?… WHY? Why are you leaving us?”
Then I heard the words I would never forget:
“Because this is what your Mom wants.”
Then, the unimaginable happened. My Dad broke down and cried…
I had NEVER seen my Dad cry. NEVER…
in the center of the couch of our family room…
with football television as a faint background noise…
we sat…
weeping…
in my father’s lap for the very last time.
Something inside me died that day.
At age seven, sitting there for the last time ever in my Daddy’s lap, I made my first lifetime decision:
I was NEVER going to let anyone make decisions like this for me.
NO ONE would ever make me cry again.
And this ONE single decision ruled my life for the next 23 years…
Cabbage Patch Doll
I was 5 years old, in Kindergarten, when I really started to notice how different I was. I guess it didn’t help that I was JUST starting to get the hang of the English language, but I noticed how quickly and easily everyone befriended each other.
Everyone, but me…
As a child, I didn’t understand that it was because it was hard to communicate with me… I just thought it was because I didn’t have the same stuff they had.
Everyone had blonde hair, blue eyes… maybe even a sprinkle here and there of a gorgeous brunette or a cutie patootie freckled red-head. Everyone was unmistakably “normal”. Me? I had a homemade Asian bowl-cut hairstyle.
I was HONG-KONG-A-FIDE! (I don’t know what that means… just go with it)
It was about this time that “Show and Tell” was popular. Every little girl seemed to have a new Cabbage Patch Dolls.
Since I was already overly aware I didn’t fit in, my 5 year-old mind told me, “If you have a Cabbage Patch Doll, you’ll be like everyone else.”
I begged my parents. I mean BEGGED!!! But the same answer came out of their mouths as usual.
“We just don’t have the extra money.”
I was devastated. I hated being me.
Fast forward to first grade. It’s my birthday. HUGE package. ”I bet it’s more clothes.” I opened the package.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! It’s a Cabbage Patch Doll!!!” No… really… I screamed. I remember this.
I was FINALLY going to be “normal”. I was finally going to fit in and not feel so alone. I was finally like EVERYONE ELSE!!!
Imagine my devastation when I brought my little “ticket-to-normalcy” to school and discovered I was still the same me as the many days before. The one thing I was certain would make me somebody, only made me feel more like an absolute NOBODY. I was STILL the kid with the Hong Kong bowl-cut. I was still “not-the-norm”.
How often do I try harder than I need, to be “the norm” when what God’s desire is for me is to be genuinely, authentically ME?
Today… I’m grateful I am different. Today… I’m thankful my story is not like everyone else’s. I’m ecstatic that Brian & My Story isn’t going to be like everyone else’s. God didn’t create us to be “normal”… He created us to be UNIQUE and completely pleasing to Him.
Nothing I own defines me.
Nothing I know defines me.
No one I know defines me.
Only GOD defines me.
My Cabbage Patch Doll was a lie. A lie I believed would make me important, when what it really was… was an idol.
What’s YOUR Cabbage Patch Doll?
Are you ready to get rid of it with me?
Worship Confessional – 09.20.09 – “SIN”
Today was a BIG day for us.
We had been asking for prayer because we, Brian and I, were sharing our story.
The Sunday Setlist today was:
- Not To Us – Chris Tomlin
- O Praise Him – David Crowder
- O Worship The King – Chris Tomlin Version
- Mighty To Save – Reuben Morgan (Response)
As you can see, we only had three songs (the 4th was in video form at the very end of the service)… because the sermon and our story took the majority of the service. I usually write about our sets and how the musical/technical portion of our services went in these Worship Confessionals, but today, it’s just MY CONFESSIONAL.
I want to encourage you guys to listen to the complete podcast of the sermon HERE on the Church at Bethany website , but we thought we would post JUST our portion here. It’s about 20 minutes, so get a drink and get comfortable:
Click here to listen to Our Story.
Though the majority of our support encouraged us and helped propel us forward to share our story, a couple of people tried to talk us out of it. We know that they were mostly worried for us and were trying to protect us, but in hindsight, we can see that it was Satan using them to try to keep us from sharing what he would have rather kept trapped in the dark. We say “in hindsight” because today was INCREDIBLY powerful. In fact, barely any of it was about us.
Yes, we shared OUR story of sin, forgiveness, hope and redemption… but what it really did, was allow people to realize the freedom they had in releasing their demons.
We discovered OUR story was not only OUR story, but so many others. We had a few couples tell us we basically just told THEIR story. I never thought God would use OUR story to help release others into the light… into HIS Truth.
Brian and I are SO glad we obeyed. We put our fear to the side, ignoring Satan’s whispers to hide. This morning was about SO much more than us.
God is in the business of restoration and healing.
Please continue to pray for our healing… and all those who stepped out of the darkness today. This is our “Once upon a time…”
Humbly in the Process of Restoration,
P.S. Yes… I still have my job as the Worship Pastor at Church at Bethany. They have graciously been walking Brian and me through our healing process.
The Day Before
Sunday’s a comin’…
Tomorrow is when we will have no more secrets.
I’m not stepping into this lightly. Brian and I have been praying almost non-stop for a week about this. Tomorrow is going to be one of the scariest days of my life. I also know it’s going to be one of the most freeing as well. We’re hearing God clearly. We’re obeying him.. but it doesn’t make it any less scary for us.
We know we’ve been blanketed with prayer. We’re asking you crank it up a notch for us. I can’t go into details, but we’ve been hit a bit emotionally… so the more prayers, the better.
Thank you SO much!
The Healer Hoax
By now, you have probably heard about “The Healer – by Michael Guglielmucci hoax, ARTICLE HERE.
Tyler Braun, Carlos Whittaker and Rich Kirkpatrick have written about it in their blogs along with many others.
This song is still incredibly powerful to my heart. I’ve seen God work miracles through people even though they are sinful and less than. I’ve seen Him work in and through me (amazingly, He still IS working in/thru me).
It’s apparent, Michael Guglielmucci has been struggling with something bigger than himself. And with all this publicity, this must be one of the most embarrassing things he and his family has ever gone through. Right now, Michael Guglielmucci and his family needs our prayers… not our judgment.
For one thing – I know I am NOT any better. I struggle on a daily basis with sin I want to hide. We should celebrate that he has brought this to the light and is now dealing with this issue face-to-face. As a church, we must lift him up in prayer and show him grace beyond our understanding. This is where his healing can really begin.
Here are the lyrics to the song:
You hold my every moment
You calm my raging seas
You walk with me through fire
And heal all my diseaseI trust in you
I trust in youI believe
You’re my healer
I believe
You are all i need
I believe
You’re my portion
I believe
You’re more than enough for me
Jesus, you’re all i needNothing is impossible for you
Nothing is impossible
Nothing is impossible for you
You hold my world in your hands
The words still ring true though the story behind it may not be.
Jenni on Skype: jclayville 
