If the gospel costs us something, we would do well to consider the price tag.
I considered it on a recent silent retreat. The contemplation began with a simple question: What do you want?It caused me to take a total spiritual and marital audit.
I had never been on a silent retreat, and I was looking forward to going. I needed a fresh encounter with God—specifically concerning marriage.
It’s been … a very hard year.
There has been no infidelity (outside of lusting). Not even any porn use.
Matt and I are better friends than ever.
But there is pain. I am a human who doesn’t like pain. I want to avoid it if at all possible.
What do I want? Do I want to continue in this pursuit of Jesus and Matt—even though it includes pain? I knew the question was selfish, but I needed to answer it. I couldn’t let it simply dance on my brain. It would only grow in my avoidance of it.
I needed to look this question full in the face to see if what I believed—this marriage, this God-following—was still worth it.
“Unless we can look the darkest, blackest fact full in the face without damaging God’s character, we do not yet know Him,”Oswald Chambers said (Utmost for his Highest, July 29, pg, 806).
I hadn’t done a total audit of my spiritual life in nearly a decade, and I was due.
This is where I sat, arguing with God.
In the afternoon of the first day on the retreat, I sat in a sunbathed chair for three hours, going back and forth with the lingering question, “What do you want?” The bartering, haggling, and arguing with God kicked up an internal storm while I sat in the sunshine.
I told God what I wanted in that moment. What I wanted looked like what the world wants for me: Be who you are. Be free.
I developed a pro-con list of pursuing such wants.
It was just me and God. I envisioned him standing in front of me, face serious. While I looked at his face (the face my limited brain could imagine), His Spirit reminded me of what I had read in the Word just that morning.
The book of Jude. I never read Jude. But I did that day, and four verses stood out to me like they were radioactive:
“[I]n the last times there would be scoffers whose purpose in life is to satisfy their ungodly desires. These people are the ones who are creating divisions among you. They follow their natural instincts because they do not have God’s Spirit in them.
“But you, dear friends, must build each other up in your most holy faith, pray in the power of the Holy Spirit, and await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will bring you eternal life. In this way, you will keep yourselves safe in God’s love” (Jude 1:18-21).
The part about God’s Spirit caught on my brain. Those who “follow their natural instincts … do not have God’s Spirit in them.”
If I follow what I want … even if it is natural to me … will I lose connection to the Spirit of God?
The woods where I walked while considering all of this.
The Father seemed to echo the question as I stood before him.
Laurie, do you want to silence the Holy Spirit’s presence in you?
I considered it. I thought about what it might feel like. What does the Holy Spirit’s presence in my life offer?Comfort, hope, direction … He completes me, inspires me, convicts me. He is God.
Do I want God in my life? That’s the real question: Do I want God or not?
As I considered, I experienced for a half-of-a-second how the absence of his presence might feel. The only word I have been able to choose to articulate it accurately is terrifying. It was as close to hell as I ever hope to ever be.
“No, God. I don’t want to silence the Holy Spirit in me.”
This is the cost, and it is expensive. Death to self and life in Christ is not a nice Christian catchphrase. It is our job description.
“This isn’t upper-level, extra credit, AP Christianity,” Francis Chan said. “It’s what we sign up for—to die to ourselves and become like Christ” (You and Me Forever, 70).
I may not want to do it … but I do. The Spirit in me wants to. The Spirit in me is able to do it. “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him” (Phil. 2:13).
I returned home raw from the experience. I felt like I did not only go through an audit, but open-heart surgery.
I was scared to relay my God-encounter with Matt. Would he feel rejected? Shut me out?
He reacted like he always does with patience, kindness, understanding, and humility.
“I’m not shocked,” he said. “And I’m surprisingly comforted by what you heard from God. I know that in the battle between me and a woman, a woman would win. But in the battle between women and God, God would win.”
He’s right. Because I want God, I choose His wants over mine.
Because I want God, I choose to accept the payment for my life–His death.
Because I want God, I choose to receive the blessings that come with my own death: character, hope, joy, peace, the Holy Spirit, my incredible husband, my sweet kids, and dear friends.
If the gospel costs us something we would do well to consider the price tag.
And when we do, we will see the price we pay is a bargain.
Do The Next Thing:
Read: If you follow us for any length of time you know I think Tim Keller, Ann Voskamp, and Francis Chan all drink tea (or water-wine?) with Jesus every day. After drinking that tea, my boy Francis and his wife Lisa wrote an incredible marriage book called You and Me Forever.If you are married, want to be, or just know married people, please read it. It’s all focused on God, and that’s why it’s incredible. It gives a God-picture of marriage. Here is one of my favorite excerpts:“In an effort to gain ‘converts,’ Christians often refrain from telling the full story. We want people to follow, so like cheap salesmen, we share the benefits without explaining the cost. We tell them about Jesus’ promises of life and forgiveness, but we don’t mention His calls for repentance and obedience. We avoid His promise that we will experience persecution. When we do this, we cheapen the gospel. The beauty of the gospel is that Christ is of such supreme worth that we would gladly sacrifice all to have Him. He is so beautiful that we would be fools to resist becoming like Him” (70-71).
Consider: While wrestling through posting this blog, I read John 17 again. The part about oneness stuck with me: “I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one—as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me” (17:21). If we are married, I do not think we can have true community in the Church (oneness) if we are not wholly pursuing oneness in our marriage relationship.
Share: I mentioned how none of us have to be alone in this journey. Since this experience, I have shared it with close friends and family. As painful as it is, it has helped me to see how broken all of us are, and know I am not alone. Do you believe that? Do you feel one with the crew of the church with your own brokenness? Are you experiencing this oneness in your marriages, small groups, with your neighbors, church? If not, why not? I’m not asking rhetorically, I am sincerely asking this question: How can we do a better job of leaning into the John 17 oneness as we follow Christ—no matter our story or struggle? What can we do?
I cheated on Matt when we were dating.
I remember saying in the moment, “I don’t want to hurt Matt.” It sobered me that time, but not enough to prevent me from a repeat scenario.
Later, I felt the pinprick of conviction. Later, I felt terrible for him. Later, I confessed to his face, and watched his heart rip apart.
But it wasn’t Matt’s sorrow that led to my repentance.
If adultery is “looking at a woman with lustful intent in his heart,” Matt cheated on me with pornography for several years while we were married (Matt. 5:28).
He remembers how I repeatedly said, “Matt, you’re so honorable. I am so glad I can trust you.” I didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes. Each time I said it he secretly promised, I’m going to be better. I am going to live up to the image Laurie sees.
The vows encouraged a few days of abstaining, but they were never enough to change his pattern for very long.
Later, he felt the conviction. Later, he felt terrible for me. Later, he confessed to my face, and watched my heart rip apart.
But it wasn’t my agony that led to his repentance.
We can often live out of a paradigm of, “If it hurts someone, don’t do it,” and, “If it does not hurt someone, do it.” The pain (or lack thereof) on a human’s face is the primary indicator of what is right and wrong.
The problem with this is we end up in a “I’m in pain!” “No, I’m in MORE pain!” battle. There are no winners in that fight. We all end up bloodied and on the floor, gasping for what we believe is limited love oxygen.
We need someone to breatheunlimited life and love into us, and teach us how to share it with others. We need a loving, living, holy Judge. We need someone impartial and yet completely biased favorably toward each of us equally.
We have Someone.
When David committed adultery with Bathsheba and had her husband, Uriah, murdered, how did David process his sin? “Against you [God], and you alone, have I sinned” (Ps. 51:4, Italics mine).
His primary focus is not on Uriah—the one he had murdered. David’s eyes were on God’s heart.
While Saul made his way to Tarsus to persecute the Christians, Jesus halted him in his tracks saying, “Saul! Saul! Why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4, Italics mine)
Jesus did not highlight Stephen—the Christian that Saul persecuted until death—or bring up the others he had killed. Jesus pointed to himself.
When God spoke through the prophet Isaiah to his people Israel about their worship of other gods and sacrifice of their children to these gods, the One True God said, “You have committed adultery on every high mountain… You have left me” (Is. 57:7-8).
God didn’t focus on the sacrificed children. He made a bigger deal about their cheating on Him.
Why? Seeing people in pain is not enough to instigate long-lasting change. It can be a great start, but the only way we can truly love our neighbor for any length of time is when we love the Creator of our neighbor with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.
I cheated on Matt when we were dating, and he cheated me while we were married. But we both cheated on God. We both said (and can still say), “God, you’re not enough; we will look elsewhere. We know what is best for us.” And in so doing, we spit on his sacrifice: Jesus Christ.
This is conviction. This is what leads to repentance. Matt’s pain or my pain alone cannot change a heart. It is only the kindness, tolerance, and patience of a holy God that led (and leads) us to repentance.
1. Reflect: Sin is not a popular topic, but I find the more I get to know the love God has for me, the more I don’t want to fail him. I don’t want to sin. It doesn’t feel legalistic and like my identity or value is based on if I sin or not…I just don’t want to spit on Jesus. I want to please God. What about you? Does serving and obeying (another unpopular word) the Father give you joy or feel legalistic?
2. Reflect Again: If you answer “legalistic,” I would encourage you to pray for people who can help display the loving heart of the Father. I am not naturally great at making friends, but I have prayed for friends, mentors, counselors, and God brings people at the right time to show me this love. Pray for that. Pursue that. Risk for that.
3. Read: If you’re wresting with the love piece, read Ephesians 3 on repeat until you begin to better understand the “height, depth, breadth…” of the love of Christ. I have been wrestling with the love of Christ lately, and have had read that chapter on the daily for weeks. I need more of God’s love every day.
4. Listen: When I’m feeling like, “Meh, God doesn’t care about sin. Also, I don’t really feel like he’s in control,” I listen to Isaiah 40-60 on the Bible app. It reinvigorates my love and respect of our sovereign, loving God.
5. Watch: I love Francis Chan’s response to the question about same-sex behavior. The point of what he says is not even about same-sex behavior, but about our failure to submit ourselves to the Father and the Word. So convicting and right on.
One highlight from the clip: “Whatever sin issue you’re dealing with today, I say to people, ‘Are you willing to surrender to God? No matter what he says?’ What if he said in this book, ‘Chinese people have to stand on their heads?’ I’ll try to stand on my head. He’s God. What if he said, ‘Chinese people don’t get to marry?’ He’s God. I don’t like that, but I’m going to surrender to that because I understand the difference between a Creator and a created being.”
I recently wrote about how Matt and my mixed-orientation marriage works.
Several of you reached out to say nice things. I sincerely thank you for that. But I need to be honest: we cannot take the credit.
No, this isn’t a humble-brag moment to point to “Jesus” while really patting ourselves on the back. I actually want to thank the critical characters—our Pillar People—who keep pushing us to look more like Jesus.
Before I describe them, I must say that I am a big introvert. Matt is, too. If left to myself, I would like to be by myself. Like, the type of “by myself” where I live alone in a hobbit hole, emerging only for the occasional birthday party for Bilbo Baggins.
I love people, but I am learning how to need people in a healthy way.
So, who are those Pillar People we allow into our introverted lives to keep us on a trajectory of Jesus-like-ness? Here we go:
1. Intimate Few
Matt and I each have two-to-three people in our lives who know the nitty gritty. It is incredibly encouraging to have same-gendered, mutually supportive friends who know our story and exhort us to more wholeness in Jesus.
Those pieces are key: mutuality and exhortation. One-way relationships are not real friendships. And real friendships are not where you stare at each other, saying how amazing the other is. That’s idolatry. The focus needs to be on not-us.
“The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends,” C.S. Lewis writes in The Four Loves (The Inspirational Writings of CS Lewis, p. 249). “Those who have nothing can share nothing; those who are going nowhere can have no fellow-travelers.”
2. Accountability Cardiologist
I mentioned in that last post how my husband is someone to whom I am accountable. I also have a female friend who intentionally, regularly asks me tough questions. But like I mentioned last time regarding effective accountability, she isn’t a police officer; she is a cardiologist who cares more about why I do things than the actual things I do.
3. Prayer People
We have an incredible crew of people faithfully praying over our ministry and marriage. I have seen miracles because of their love for us (and care for you reading this).
I also try to regularly pray with people one-on-one. I do not pray because I am so holy, but because I am not so holy (but want to be).
4. Marriage Promoters
I am a big advocate of single people, and am grateful the Church has begun to celebrate singleness more. That being said, marriage ain’t easy—no matter your orientation. So, in addition to same-gendered peers who support us, we have one couple with whom we meet regularly to ask the tough, marriage-focused questions. We are also committed to praying specifically for one another’s marriage.
5. People to Follow
[This includes past and current mentors, counselors, parents, etc.]
Matt and I recently had someone we both respect offer to take us under his wing and mentor us. Even writing that sentence brings tears to my eyes. It means so much to have older people look at the pair of us Millennials trying our best to make an impact on the Kingdom, and instead of berate us for our Millennial-ness say, “How can I come alongside you?”
I think there is an extra measure of emotionality added to this offer because of my same-sex attractions. We have hadmany people reject us—or at least give us the distrustful stink eye until we prove our value and validity of marriage.
To have someone look at our young age and our “odd” marriage and say, “I see those as gifts” is inexplicably healing.
6. People to Serve
God has given us the joy to be able to pass along the cups of cold water he gives to us in this desert we call life. We don’t always feel like we have much to offer, but does anyone feel as if they do? “Here’s a great little message to learn,” Pastor Chip Ingram said. “Everyone on the earth is desperately insecure.”
The good news is that within insecurity we see Jesus work the best. “All we need is need,” Pastor Rod VanSolkema recently said. Serving others keeps us in a place of need and expectation for God to move.
7. Fun Folk
My spirit animal is “Sadness” from the Pixar film Inside Out. Jk. (Kinda…) My ability to talk deeply and grieve quickly is a tad bit abnormal.
Plus, our ministry and work can be so sad and hard. We need people who will pull us out of our mourning-with-those-who-mourn lives and encourage us to have fun. (You know if you are those people for us. Bless you and your Enneagram 7-ness.)
8. Challengers
We appreciate those of you who do not hold to the same perspective as us. We do not have all the answers, and your kind, constructive criticism helps us know how to hold theology better.
We are always willing to be wrong in how we hold theological convictions. You teach us how to adjust our posture.
9. Significant Small Pillars
There are some people in our lives who we do not see or talk to very often (or even know in real life #TimKeller), but they maintain an important position. Actual time spent with us is not an indicator of the significant role you play.
10. People Who “Get It”
“The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, ‘What? You too?’” Lewis said (248). “‘I thought I was the only one.’” I sigh in my soul when I feel understood.
It can be about mixed-orientation marriage, big families, staying up late with babies, or navigating a truth/love/grace conversation….When I feel like another person “gets it,” I am more okay in my own skin.
Do you know what I mean?
***
All of these friends are reflections of God. No one person encapsulates him totally. No one person (or group of people) are worthy of worship. But they image him uniquely and significantly, causing us to worship God even more.
Thank you, Pillar People, for showing these introverted hobbits more of what Jesus looks like.
Do the Next Thing:
1. Reflect: If you read through this and thought, “Whelp. I’m zero for ten. I don’t have any of these people in my life (except Challengers, perhaps). Thanks for rubbing it in, Laur!”
This is when I want to use my mourn-with-those-who-mourn gift, and say, I’m so sorry. There is a loneliness epidemic going on in our world right now–especially with us Millennials. [Check out that link.] I have been there. I can still hang out there. (Remember me? The solo hobbit?) I have no quick fix, but two suggestions: A. Pray. I prayed for some of these roles to be filled for years. Literal years. You are not a freak for not having all ten of these–or even more than one. Perhaps you don’t need them all. But if there was a stirring in your heart as you read, ask the Lord if that was him, and pray into that people need. B. Pursue. Almost none of these relationships justhappened. I watched for emotional/spiritual health and fruit of the spirit in someone for a while, and then I pursued them (or they, me/us). Some of those conversations were super awkward. Sometimes, I was rejected. But all the good/bad/awkward has been worth it. You are worth it.
2. Respond: What Pillar People did I miss? What books, sermons, blogs, podcasts have impacted you in learning how to love people (and let them love you) well?
3. Listen: This Tim Keller sermon from 1997 talks briefly about friendship (yes…I still have a tiny TK obsession). The friendship portion is short, but impacted me. One quote from it: “If you come [to church] and you don’t have a friend with you, you might get inspired by my preaching, but your life isn’t going to be changed. If you don’t have a friend to think about this with, you’re never going to learn.” !!
4. Read: I was inspired to write this blog based on a podcast I heard years ago featuring a champion of the faith, Gordon MacDonald. The link will lead you to an article he wrote for CT Today with a similar thesis as that podcast. One quote: “I suspect that we had to work harder to maintain our secrecy than most people outside the faith do because we often claimed a kind of spiritual union which was rarely the reality.”
[Photos used with permission from unsplash.com.]
Tomorrow, Matt and I will have been married eight years.
Some days it feels like one year; some days it feels like twenty. What’s interesting to me is how other people feel about the duration of our marriage.
Whenever I read books or blogs about mixed-orientation marriages (where one of the spouses experiences a same-sex attraction and the other does not), I say, “Oh, look, honey. Here are the three paragraphs about our marriage. And, surprise, surprise: they are depressing.”
Most of the tiny bit that is written about our type of marriage is pessimistic at best, predicting doomsday failure at worst.
We have been asked directly and indirectly by bold friends how our marriage does work. Is Matt constantly feeling dissed by me—especially because I am so “out” in this ministry? Am I simply wandering about alone—tolerating him and feeling unfulfilled?
Let me explain by sharing two things I have learned over the last years together:
1. Our marriage is about a covenant commitment.
The world says, “If you’re not happy, get out.” People say this to super straight couples, how much more so to us! Happiness and fulfillment are what matters. “I deserve…” “I have rights…” “I, I, I….”
Especially when it comes to sex and sexuality. I mean, if one of you is not fulfilled in marriage, it is your prerogative to find it somewhere. Sex is everything. (Well, we may not say that, but we act like it in the way many of us prioritize food, water, air, sex…)
I don’t see this in the Bible. I see mutual submission, not stealing. I see denial of self, not demands. I see a giving up of “rights,” not a list of requirements to receive love. What rights do we have besides a life of death—even in, and perhaps especially so in marriage (an example of Jesus’ relationship to the church)?
The world has fooled us, friends. It has said, “Laurie, you are your sexuality. You don’t just experience that type of brokenness, you are your sexuality.” Why? Why can’t I be like most other married women and men I know (super straight people) who have times where they are not attracted to their spouses? They struggle with a different form of sexual brokenness. Why do I get a right to run?
No. I am committed. And like Jesus, even on the hardest days, I stay. So does Matt.
When Jesus looked down from the cross, he didn’t think, ‘I am giving myself to you because you are so attractive to me.’ No, he was in agony, and he looked down at us–denying him, abandoning him, and betraying him–and in the greatest act of love in history, he STAYED.
“He said, ‘Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing.’ He loved us, not because we were lovely to him, but to make us lovely. That is why I am going to love my spouse. Speak to your heart like that, and then fulfill the promises you made on your wedding day.”
The very place where Matt and I can shake our heads while praying, “Jesus? How?” is the very place where we grow the most. That growth process is called sanctification, and it is a difficult journey if you experience same-sex attractions or not. If you are married or not.
If you have worked with us at a counseling level, heard us speak, or read many of these blogs, you know we believe that my same-sex attractions—although may be inborn, permanent, etc.—can feel stronger when I am lacking a Core Need. The barking Core Need may be extra loud because I am not feeling loved, cared for, or seen. Ideally, those Core Needs, which live in that metaphorical hole in our hearts, are met in perfect relationship to God and supported by other people.
Such perfect interactions rarely happen. (Surprise! People aren’t perfect.) If we are not on our seeking-first-the-Kingdom game, we subconsciously go searching to meet our Core Needs in other ways: with food, sexual activity, working too much, people “liking” us and our posts, etc.
When Matt and I stop this wandering, confess, refocus, and hold hands while staring at Jesus (not at each other), our weakest places personally become glue for our marriage.
“Matt, I am really struggling. I am so sorry. I let my mind wander…” And I share.
One-hundred percent of the time I don’t want to be honest with him. One-hundred percent of the time I am glad I was because of the immediate freedom it offers me, and the way it punches Satan in the teeth. Satan hates when things come into the light. That’s why I do it. Satan is a jerk.
“I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me?” I ask Matt.
“Yes, I will.” Matt may look and feel hurt. He isn’t superhuman. But sometimes that face of pain flashes in my mind when I am tempted to let my mind drift again. Sin hurts me and those around me. Sin bleeds. I need to remember this when my heart wants to wander.
But the conversation isn’t over. We are not one another’s police officers, enforcing the law. We are cardiologists.
“Laurie, what do you really need?” Matt asks. He asks this because we know sexual sin is not actually about sexual sin. It begins at the heart.
What do I need? “I am really feeling unseen. Uncared for. I feel like God hates me right now.” Matt listens, sincerely empathizes. Then we come up with a game plan to get that real need met with journaling, reading, hanging out with healthy female peers, or going on a fun date together. We plan something that will help lift me up to receive from the Real Jesus who does see me. I’m just not feeling it.
Then Matt may share where he has been. He may confess how he has let his mind meander. The immediate gut-punch reaction I want to throw at him is softened because he literally just showed me God’s love and grace. Instead of rebuke, I return the gifts he gave me. Then I ask him what he really needs, and we come up with a plan.
Do you know what I am actually describing here? Intimacy. Not just mixed-orientation marriage intimacy, but true, godly, I-see-you-and-you-see-me lasting intimacy that can take place in any godly marriage or in any godly friendship.
This is why when people ask me how our marriage works I often cry. Not out of sorrow, but out of this tender, precious, grace/love/mercy place in my heart that loves Matt so, so deeply. From a place that has received grace and offers grace. From a place that has been seen and loved. Our marriage may not begin with eros love, but it lives off of our-souls-see-each-other-and-connect love.
We are not a “normal” couple, and yet we very much are. We are two broken people committed to each other and the sanctification process—both of which produce greater intimacy than the world can offer or sometimes believe.
Here’s to another eight-y years, hon.
Take the Next Right Step:
Respond: After reading this, does our marriage seem so different from other marriages?
Reflect: If you are reading this thinking, “Well, good for you. There’s no way I could have that type of honesty with my spouse.” I want to encourage two things: 1. Alter your thinking from “Are we going to make it?” to “How are we going to make it?” and start gathering your tools to help you succeed. That subtle shift has helped when marriage has seemed hopeless. 2. Reach out. Now. Tell someone. Tell many someones. “We need help.” Satan wants to make your marriage health seem like an impossible, immovable mountain. But guess what? God is in the mountain-moving business. Not just for the mixed-orientation marriage folk, but for every flipping marriage. Get wise people around you who have faith when you don’t have it.
Read: No matter what “type” of marriage you have, you may not always connect at some level. Check out “My Husband Isn’t My Best Friend” by Juli Slattery for some practical ideas.
Read: If you are wondering how to turn your spouse or friend relationship into one that holds you to effective accountability, read “Taking Account of Accountability in the Lust Battle” by John Michael Cusick.
Listen: This song, “The Gravity of Love” by The Brilliance is just…brilliant. (Ha ha.) It nods to one of my favorite verses, Psalm 121:1.
(I asked my husband, Matt, to write a bit about what it was like to be married to me. I didn’t expect to nearly start convulse-sobbing when I read what he wrote! Here it is…)
Hello!
My name is Matt–also known as Laurie’s husband. 😉
Laurie has asked me to share some of my perspective on being married to her while she experiences ongoing attractions to the same sex.
As her husband I have the unique position of not only seeing her daily walk but also walking with her.
I’ll be honest, sometimes it is a difficult burden to bear. I have never experienced attractions to the same sex. So, even though I try and listen and empathize, it’s something I cannot fully understand.
That can be hard for her and hard for me–this not truly understanding.
When I wrestled with fear, depression, and heterosexual pornography, I always felt safe talking with my pastor, youth pastor, and small group leader. I have never had to work through them with a sense of complete isolation.
Laurie has. I am deeply proud of her standing up to fight against isolation for others like her. Laurie has a painful but wonderful story to tell of how God has become the Need Meeter of her soul.
Even though there are times that she’s scared to speak out, she knows that by sharing her own journey she is doing something to dispel that sense of isolation that leaves so many people feeling trapped. Laurie is stepping out in courage to talk about an issue that far too many Christians are comfortable leaving behind.
But enough of that tangent. 🙂 Laurie wanted me to talk about what it is like to be married to someone who is attracted to the same sex. Frankly, I don’t think of it any differently than being married to someone who doesn’t experience this.
I married my best friend, and I love her no matter what.
Laurie’s experience doesn’t effect me on a daily basis. I’m aware of it, but it’s not something that is consuming me with worry. I don’t care that she’s not attracted to other guys. (Sometimes I find that quite reassuring.)
But what if she leaves me for a woman?
Honestly, that possibility that lingers in my head, but I think that would be easier to cope with than if she left me for another man. If she left for another man, I would always wonder what I did wrong as a man to drive her away. But short of transitioning to female, I cannot make myself a woman. The only thing I need to worry about is being the best husband I possibly can, God empowering me.
I love Laurie. I love her unique walk because that is part of who she is. I can’t cut that part out of her and still keep her the same woman with whom I fell in love.
So, the experience doesn’t really matter. Yes, it makes things hard at times, but it’s strange how challenges can grow us even closer, isn’t it? Through it all, and often because of it all, Laurie unquestionably remains the women for whom I would give up everything.
As much as I love Laurie, I know that our relationship does not “fix” her. In my opinion there is nothing to fix. Laurie may wrestle with this for the rest of her life, but I know that her experience causes her to lean on God.
Why would you want to fix that? It is her reliance on God that gives Laurie the strength to do what she does. It’s only because of her experience that she has been given a heart to speak out for all of you who may feel silenced. That’s amazing.
However, the fact that she is speaking out has put a target on her back. Satan hates my wife—just as he hates all of us. But she’s not listening to him when he tells her that she’s broken and worthless: that her wrestling with this version of sexual brokenness makes her less than a child of God should be. She’s not listening when a bunch of “christians” say that God hates her for her experience. She hears them, but she chooses to reject those lies.
Each and every one of us is deeply flawed from the second we took our first breath. We are people living in a fallen world. My flaws are no better or worse than anyone else’s. ALL have fallen short of God’s glorious standard.
But even though we are all sinful and depraved people, God chose to give up everything for us. He gave up everything for me, he gave everything for Laurie, and he gave everything for you.
It doesn’t matter what you have done, are doing, or have yet to do. GOD LOVES YOU with everything that he has.
I’m sorry. I’m rambling a bit. But I can when it comes to how great my Laurie is. She’s the best person I’ve ever known. She’s my best friend. She’s about to bring our baby girl into this crazy world and I would be happy if my daughter turned out like her—struggles and all.
God bless you all. Know that you are loved.
Matt
(This was written in July 2014. In the succeeding years, God allowed more bumps in our journey that almost led to ending our marriage for good. These bumps tested Matt’s words above, but praise God, he would still same the same–and more–today. I would, too. To read read all about it, check out our book with InterVarsity Press on it at ImpossibleMarriage.com)
