As an only child, I grew up in a small village called Livingston, just outside Edinburgh, with my mum and dad. It wasn’t a Christian home or with any Christian family members. Religion or God was never spoken about unless in the form of blasphemy. Family life was very complicated growing up. My dad was an alcoholic, so he wasn't really around much. I remember the many times he would come home drunk and start shouting abuse, setting fire alarms off early in the morning, windows being smashed and the police coming regularly to our door.

Much of the narrative rhythm of the Old Testament seems be along the lines of this: God’s people receive His abundant favour; they promise their allegiance to him; but then each time their basest desires trump their love of God. This pattern recurs at Eden, Babel, the Flood, with the Golden Calf, and even in the lives of their judges and kings. 

Happiness begins and ends in Jesus Christ. That’s it. Full stop. Surely it can’t be as simple as that? We all have friends and family who will encourage us to think something quite different. The argument is often that happiness can only truly be found in the arms of another person, in a sexual union of some sort. We hear voices saying that having Jesus is all well and good, but in this life, you can’t just rely on Him. You need something or someone else that is more tangible and immediate.

As a woman with same-sex attraction, I have a history of running away from God and suppressing the conviction of adhering to biblical holiness that He graciously placed on my heart. In my country, same-sex attractions are neither generally spoken about, nor properly addressed in churches,. Therefore, it’s quite easy to not only to compromise belief, but to avoid accountability for ungodly living and keep under the radar.

There are many superficial indicators of faith in my life:

I thought I might start by laying my cards on the table. I am someone who experiences same-sex attraction and has done since childhood. I am not only attracted to people of the same sex; I am married, and my wife graciously supports me. My desires are rather carnal than romantic. By which I mean, I have never desired a long-term romantic relationship with a man. 

In my late teens, I adopted a stray budgie that had flown in through my next door neighbour’s window and landed on his head whilst he was asleep. After trying unsuccessfully to locate the owner of the bird, I kept the budgie, naming it Wally (after the neighbour), not knowing that it was actually a female! Uneasy with keeping birds in cages, I left Wally’s cage door open for her to come and go as she pleased. She loved to have a fly around the room, but always returned to her cage after her excursions.

The boy was looking at me like I was crazy. I can still see his face, bemused and laced with disdain.
“Why are you answering? You’re a girl!” It was a primary school assembly and the teacher had just asked a question, specifically directed at the boys, to which I had responded effusively. The boy’s words doused me like a bucket of icy water.
“Oh yes,” I remembered with a start, “I’m a girl.”
That was the first time I realised that despite being female, I’d assumed I was male. And it was not to be the last.

“I want to talk about sex and relationships” said Dr Helen Roseveare as we interviewed her at the Keswick Convention as part of the 19-24s stream back in 2011. She continued. “Being single is a gift from God and we can use it to serve Him. We don’t need to go chasing a life of romance and sex”. I found that deeply challenging in a world that was telling me otherwise. I’ll come back to Dr Roseveare.