“Castle”

By Castledoll

“Fag!” they screamed at me. “Fag! Fag!” An innocent, confused seventh-grade boy, I ran to Mom as soon as I got home from school that day.

“Mom, what’s a ‘fag’?” I asked her.

“I don’t know, Frank,” she said, in throes of denial. After a long moment of silent recovery, she walked over to the bookcase and, with great ceremony, handed a dictionary to me, then sat on the sofa beside me.

My sweaty childish hands turned the pages awkwardly. What would I find in here? “F- fa- fag”—there it was. I read aloud, “A bundle of sticks to be burned.”

Mom nodded, in relieved agreement. “Well, then, I guess that’s what they were calling you.” She shrugged, then rushed back to the kitchen to tend to the pot of potatoes cooking on the stove.

Slowly I closed the dictionary, put it back into the bookcase, and headed for my room. I felt more confused than ever. The only “definition” of “fag” that was clear to me was that it was something not to be talked about.

I had been born the first child in my family, the first boy in our extended family. My grandparents were especially thrilled, since they had only two girls, my mother and my aunt. My stepfather, who raised me since I was five, was an only child and seemed delighted to have me for his son.

During my childhood, I had wanted to go to church and learn about God, but my family was not interested. All I knew about God was from watching Charlton Heston as Moses in the movie, “The Ten Commandments.” Then, when I was twelve, we moved next door to a Seventh-day Adventist family. They, of course, responded to my eagerness to learn. And I soaked it up!

I learned about the Sabbath, The Second Coming, and about pork and soybeans. I loved it! I was such a student of Daniel two and all the great Bible prophecies. At my church, I felt accepted and loved. Adults would crowd around me after they learned that this 13-year-old boy was the only Adventist in his entire family!

But something else was happening inside me. I realized other boys were drooling over girls. I wasn’t. I was dreaming of men. And now, at the tender age of 13, my classmates were calling me a fag.

In California where I was growing up, I heard about “it” constantly. Anita Bryant talked about it. Society hated gays. There was the Briggs Initiative (firing teachers because they were gay).

I read Bible verses about homosexuals. A Christian woman whom I looked up to told me that gays are reprobates, too far from God, and “He can’t save them.” I saw newscasts of gay pride parades and saw Christian holding up signs that said, “God hates fags.”

I tried with all my heart to “be straight.” I tried to drool over TV’s “Charlie’s Angels.” I cried to God in my prayers, begging to become straight. Although my prayers to God took many forms over the years, the plea was always the same: “Make me straight like everyone else!” I felt so alone, and gradually my heart grew cold toward my Maker. How dare He make me gay!

At age 15, I left the church. I didn’t give God any more time in my life. I didn’t know Jesus; all I knew were the rules. Once I even attempted suicide; I had no hope. I felt damned just for being me. My teen years were hell. I didn’t fit in anywhere. My home became terribly abusive. My once-beloved church wanted bright and shiny, straight people. Society treated gays like some sick joke. Where was I to go?

The Christian people didn’t want me. Even the misfits of society think you’re more of misfit if you’re gay. There were no others like me. Where do I go to belong? Easy! The stoners! If you had a pipe and a bag you were friends with them automatically. I needed desperately to “belong,” so I belonged with a vengeance. I hung out with losers and became a loser. I did stupid things and got into trouble.

By the time I was twenty-one, I was addicted to gay porn but still very much in the closet in order to fit in with my stoner friends. They all had girlfriends, and I had to get one. I must not be found out! I tried to have a straight relationship, pretending I was straight, when what I wanted most was to be held and loved by a man! It was so unfair to my fiancée Chloe, and to our son Chip who was born outside of marriage.

One morning I was in a city bus accident in which one woman died. The rest of us who survived were not hurt. A lady sitting near me kept saying, “You never know when you might die. I’m so glad I’m saved. Better get saved!”

I knew very well what she meant, but I still thought God didn’t—or couldn’t—save me. I asked God, “Do You really want me?” A few months later, I heard His answer.

I had just come home from work when there was a knock at the door. An old man was giving out free books, so I took one, just because I love to read. I didn’t look at the book until he had gone. Then I saw it was The Great Controversy! I knew it was an Adventist book, but I had never read it. In my amazement, I ran outside and caught up with the man.

“This is an Adventist book!” I exclaimed, breathless with excitement. “Are you an Adventist?”

The old man shook his head. He didn’t seem to want to talk to me.

I turned back to my home and went inside. I opened the book to the last chapter. I read about the Judgment and how I would see my life as I had lived it and then see Jesus’ life in a panoramic scene. I had to watch Jesus die for me, and it was too late because I was outside His kingdom. Oh, God, my Father, Lord, save me!

Right then, I knew He had saved me. Such a peace filled my whole being!

After that, I became a colporteur. I became a Sabbath school teacher for little kids. God blessed me. And then—I tried to have a girlfriend—again. (Oh, no, not again!) But, deep inside, I knew I was still gay. I couldn’t share this shame with my lovely and faithful Body of Christ.

I became involved with ex-gay ministries, subscribing to “Love in Action” newsletters and “How to Be Straight” tapes from Colin Cook. This time I am a real Christian, and this time God will make me straight!

There is nothing like waking up in the morning believing by faith that God made you straight, and then finding you aren’t. This went on for months and then years. It wore me out. My lust for men became stronger, and my faith in God became weaker.

I started going out to gay bars and getting into situations that I would have never dreamed possible. I became quite popular! I was the new attractive fresh face in town. The bar became a new family for me. Forget the church—I’ve found heaven on earth! But inside, I was empty, worse than ever before. I couldn’t go back to God. I was gay, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t change.

After several years, I began reading pro-gay Christian literature. Say what?! My mind couldn’t wrap itself around this idea. I didn’t know yet that I had godly people praying for me.

One night, after watching a video about God’s love and awesome wisdom, and His control of universal events in this “great controversy,” I sensed God was begging me to come back to Him. God wouldn’t leave me alone! How can I come back? I loved sin. I loved my lover. I loved my Barbies. I loved my gayness. I had been out and proud for many years by now. I also had been in a serious, monogamous relationship with Bill for many years. Will all this perish when Jesus comes back?

Finally, I told God that I will choose to serve Him, but He will have to will that choice for me, because I cannot. I pray He will help me surrender all. I don’t trust myself, but I’m still learning to trust Him and to believe that He really loves me and accepts me as I am.

I don’t ask God to make me straight anymore. I can’t fixate on that tired old concept! Many Christians still believe that God will make you straight when you turn to Him. I have found that not to be true in my case. Still, I will trust Him; He is so good to me. It’s important to look at Jesus—not at others or at myself. There are so many things I don’t understand, but I know God’s promises are true. He is faithful!

The Psalms and Proverbs mean so much to me, especially reading in my favorite modern paraphrase, The Clear Word. Some of my favorite passages are: Psalm 24:3, 4; Psalm 139; Proverbs 3:5-7; and Proverbs 24:16. I praise Him every day; if I don’t, I will be overwhelmed by life’s circumstances. But, when I fall, I get back up again. One of my heartfelt prayers to Him is for clean hands and a pure heart. Celibacy is a gift I’m learning to embrace.

Castledoll is a pseudonym.