From Paganism to Christ

I was born in Shrewsbury and raised in the somewhat odd border town of Oswestry, where I think it is fair to say I retain some rather fond memories of my early years. In my primary school years I, of course, had not developed any real identity or serious interests that would define who I was. Perhaps maybe apart from being sucked into playing music, where I was once a brass band member for a good ten years. Once I entered adolescence, apart from the usual teenage rebellion, I started experiencing hugely challenging situations, which rocked the stability I had been used to as a child. I now praise God that I had a lovingly supportive, albeit rather strange family.

When I moved to secondary school, I was blissfully ignorant of a hostile outside world. I didn’t have any major personal responsibilities and felt quite indifferent about this next stage in my education. I did lose friends from my previous school, as I moved to an entirely different school to my peers, but on reflection, my lack of emotion was most likely caused by autism. Even today I struggle to experience emotion. For people with autism, emotion is disordered and experienced in extremes - either far too much or, like me, far too little. 

Not knowing anything about autism at the time, I only now understand that it defined the relationships I had with others in my new school. I spent the majority of my first year quite alone and cut off from everyone else, like there was some great barrier between us. I was bullied mercilessly. I did eventually make a rather good friend by the end of that year. To my ignorance, it never crossed my mind that that person would unknowingly reveal to me my same-sex attraction. I was twelve years old at the time.

Over the next year, my feelings and attraction for my then best friend grew, but I did not think anything of it. As far as I was concerned, it was normal. Though I did know that the word ‘gay’ was often associated with feelings for the same sex, it was such a secretive and insulting word. I did have an interest in girls, but I had become so infatuated with my best friend, I never thought about girls. My strong feelings for my best friend were becoming a problem. I was lonely and what was worse, from my perspective, the boy I was so infatuated with was with a girl. My jealousy was like a raging furnace, fuelled by my selfish desires and loneliness. It reached a point where I confessed my feelings towards him, which was the worst thing I could have done.

I felt I was often singled out during my adolescence, which resulted in some rather unpleasant encounters. Not long after my great confession to my best friend, I started to hear talk of my, as people put it, “perversion.”  My school experience got increasingly worse, until I fell into a gaping pit of darkness, depression, anxiety and pure, intangible anger. My sister became incredibly ill due to the amount of bullying she was also subjected to. She became the focal point in my family. It was the start of seven years of what I thought was hell. I felt unable to address my problems and started exploring alternative ways of coping.

I discovered the world of Celtic polytheism and the occult. The practice of this interest didn’t get too entrenched, but it was the one thing that made me feel secure. Previously, I had bumped into Christians who came across as being very disturbed or angry about my same-sex attraction. I didn’t like Christians; I didn’t want anything to do with them and had crossed Christianity off my list of possible religions I would be interested in. 

Jumping forward a few years, I left school and flitted between jobs in a pharmacy, in retail, gardening and as a carer. I had no clear purpose or drive and felt like a sojourner who was anchor and rudderless. By this time, I had already had two relationships with men. I was with a man for the best part of three and a half years, but all was not well. 

Because of my now strong beliefs rooted in the Celtic polytheistic faith and my fascination with the occult, and due to how myself and my sister were treated by others, my heart was swelling with anger. I’m not even sure I could say I had a heart. Anger became the only emotion I could feel and I basked in its manifestation. I hated people with a passion I could not even imagine now. I was lost in that gaping pit of darkness, with only evil desires occupying my thoughts. 

Looking back, I am not able to recognise myself; I feel exceedingly grateful for the amount of grace I receive today. I was 22. In the Autumn of 2020, after celebrating Samhain, or Halloween, as it’s more widely known, I started experiencing a series of “nightmares”. Now I call them dreams. You shall see why momentarily. 

My only experience of Christianity and encounters with Christians were, in the majority, rather negative. But I was nevertheless acquainted with people, whom I would refer to, as my “favourite Christian friends”. I was never made aware of the Gospel or the meaning of Christianity by them or by anyone else. All I knew was that they proclaimed they were Christian and that they went to a church building every Sunday. All in all, I had no knowledge or understanding of the message that Christ had brought to the world.

These “nightmares” were set in the dark and I would envision many crosses dotted around the place. I would follow familiar people, who wore crosses, up a hill to this rather fancy, but quite impractical building, full of gaping holes. Bright sunlight shone through the holes in the walls. Even I was wearing a cross! The building had a classic church building shape, with its tower and long grand hall, but the walls resembled that of vine-like roots, which were made of stone. 

These dreams continued for about a week or so until I had an overpowering urge to pray, to fall to my knees and call out to God. 
He was saying to me, “Follow me, follow me” and I said, “Yes Lord. Here I am”. This now very much reminds me of the relationship between Samuel and the Lord in 1 Samuel 3. It was personal, so powerful and so overwhelmingly beautiful. I gave my heart to Him, my soul to Him. I wept tears of relief, but also with sorrow, as I knew in my heart what it meant for my same-sex attraction and my relationship with the man I was with. Six months later, after a very rocky start to my relationship with God, I joined a church where I am now, delightfully happy.

God had delivered me into the hands of a church family, who would guide my desires and my heart in living more for Him and that of course came with a great cost. After Halloween, this time, I had decided to make that sacrifice for Christ. Scripture was so clear, yet so empowering and soul-nurturing, giving me the strength to take up my cross and follow Christ. I had to end my same-sex relationship, which only deepened mine with Christ. I could not live without Christ or His word. But if I can assure you of anything, it would be that Christ is worthy of it all. God’s Word and His holy Scriptures are the foundation of my life. My identity is in Him. “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8 

I was asked this question by my fellow brothers in Christ, “If you could press a button that removed your same-sex attraction (SSA), would you?” In response to this question, I can assuredly answer “no”. The struggles and sufferings I experience with my SSA have only deepened my relationship with God. If I did not have that as my struggle, what would my relationship with God look like? “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive in the Spirit” – 1 Peter 3:18.
 

This article was originally published in the Spring 2023 edition of the TFT magazine, Ascend. Click the button below to download your copy.