Stonewall Revisted

As I faced my 36th birthday, I dreaded the future. My current homosexual relationship was crumbling, and even the drink in my hand couldn't numb the ache inside.

I turned from their dismal stares and sipped my vodka. The next day, Saturday, marked my 36th birthday, yet I felt no joy-only deep depression. I wanted the alcohol to wash away the pain of a homosexual relationship now decaying into emotional trauma.

As the vodka began its numbing effect, I remembered an incident three years earlier that took place while I stood in a bank line waiting to make a deposit. A friend I met there said, "Bernard, your homosexual lifestyle is sin in God's eyes." Her statement staggered me, and I quickly defended myself. "Why? I'm not hurting anyone."

"You're hurting yourself," she promptly answered. "Read Romans 1:27. God says your sin will destroy your body." Her voice echoed throughout the lobby, and many eyes turned to us. My face flushed.

"Janice," I said quietly, "if I ever read that in the Bible, I'll consider accepting Jesus Christ." I aimed my response to appease her. But the quotation of Romans 1:27 seared itself into my mind.

The tinkling of glasses interrupted my recollection. I realized on that night before my birthday that homosexuality had caused the dark, smothering depression and loneliness in my life. Janice was right; I was hurting myself.

I pondered the past, hoping an answer would surface. Why had I become a homosexual? Was it the lack of a father image, as some psychologists suggested? My mother, strapped financially, struggled to care for five children without the help of my father who one day left, never to return. Only my grandmother's generosity relieved mother's burden. Grandma offered to have me come and live with her. So, at the age of three, I left the family.

Grandma, a staunch Baptist, took me to the Lord's house every Sunday. In Sunday School I first learned about Jesus; many of those early lessons were never forgotten. As a teenager I drifted away from the church's influence and decided to follow a desire beginning to stir within me-a sexual desire for men.

I could establish friendships with women, but I never developed a normal attraction to them. At 19 I experienced my first sexual encounter with a man. Even in my distorted identity, I longed for a relationship. Although this was normal, my choice of gender wasn't.

Throughout the next 16 years, I floundered in attempts to find the ideal relationship. Until that night in the bar, I failed to realize that the floundering resulted from being outside God's will. I remembered twirling my drink that night and thinking my life twirled much the same-spinning without purpose.

I stood up and threw some change onto the bar. Then taking one last look around the smoke-filled room, I walked out into the cold night air. It was the last time I ever patronized a gay bar.

Later that night, in my tiny studio apartment in Yonkers, New York, thoughts from my sinful past continued to torture me. I tried to sleep, but the thoughts were relentless. I tossed, turned, then finally arose. I poured myself a drink, hoping to anesthetize my anxiety with gin. Soon I fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning I awoke with a pounding head and an aching heart. It was my birthday, but I expected no presents, no cake with candles, and no joy; only more of last night's depression. Suddenly an urge to take the Bible off the bookshelf overwhelmed me. It had been years since I'd last read it. But on that morning I wanted to read Romans 1:27. Thumbing through the New Testament, I found the text. The promise I'd made to Janice reverberated through my mind. I began to weep uncontrollably.

I cried for more than an hour, pouring my sorrow out to God. "Jesus," I said, "I have sinned against You. I'm tired of this life...please forgive me...help me to live for You." A sweeping wave of gentle peace settled over me. The deep depression of the past months lifted. It was as though I'd emerged from a dark tunnel into the brilliant light of day as Jesus Christ became real to me.

I arose from the floor and saw a pack of cigarettes and the bottle of gin I'd drunk from the previous night. Grabbing them both from the night table, I rushed into the bathroom and dumped them down the toilet. The transforming power of Christ was so potent that I have never drunk or smoked since that day.

Moments later, I felt an urgent need to tell someone what had happened, so I called a friend who had recently accepted Christ as her Savior. She rejoiced with me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but the Holy Spirit had me confess with my mouth what I'd already believed in my heart. As the Bible says, "If you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved." (Romans 10:9-10)

A few weeks later I began attending Yonkers Christian Assembly, and the second greatest miracle in my life took place. One Sunday after service, I was invited to dinner at the home of James Credle, evangelism director at Yonkers Christian Assembly. While there I met another guest, Iris Wright, from Sierra Leone, Africa. For the first time I felt a stirring attraction for a female.

Over the following months God drew Iris and myself together. Soon we fell in love. But as the days passed and our love deepened, I became troubled. Should I tell her of my past? I didn't want someone else to tell her.

One night, anxious and trembling, I called Iris, determined to tell her everything. When the moment came I spoke with trepidation, "Iris, I have something important to tell you. God has delivered me from homosexuality."

Once the words were out, I felt relieved-for a moment. Then I waited for her response. She remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, then she finally replied, "Bernard, I love you as you are now". My tension dissolved and I shouted, "Hallelujah!"

On June 15, 1985, Iris and I were married at Yonkers Christian Assembly by Pastor Harold Richardson. Soon afterward God brought us a joy I never thought possible for me-the birth of a son. Akin gave added fulfillment to our marriage, once again testifying to the life-changing power of Jesus Christ. Two years later we were blessed with a daughter, Berniris.

Does being a husband and father mean that all my problems with the past are over? No, during these past ten years that I've been saved, there have been numerous battles with temptation. Just as heterosexuals struggle with lust, so does a former homosexual.

Initially I battled with a feeling of not actually being saved because there was still affection for my last lover. My pastor helped me to understand that feeling had nothing to do with salvation. One doesn't always feel saved, but I had to learn to accept what the Word says about salvation. "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved," God's Word says simply (Acts 16:31).

Over the years, my church has been my main support in staying free of homosexuality. I'm part of one of their small groups, which has been a great help. Soon after I was saved, for example, our group discussed the verse, "Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed" (James 5:16). I confessed the strong feelings I still had for my former lover. The group prayed with me, and members of the group continued to encourage me in the following weeks. "Bernard", they would tell me, "these feelings will pass. Persevere in your Christian walk!". They were right. After several months with God's help the feelings went away.

Through being part of a small group, I saw that all Christians have battles of some sort. When I realized this, it helped move the focus away from myself and actually helped in my healing process. Knowing about the deep struggles of other Christians helped diminish the tendency to think my battle was the most difficult.

My church has a multi-racial membership. When I started there, everyone accepted me quite readily, except for one black brother. "I don't believe you're really saved," he told me after one service. "I've never met a homosexual who was saved and I can't accept you." I was shaken by that encounter, but I prayed about it and left the whole matter in the Lord's hands.

A year later, the same man came up to me after a service, pulled me aside, and said quietly, "I want to ask your forgiveness. The Lord has been dealing with me about my attitude toward you. I've seen your walk for the last year and I've changed my mind. I accept your testimony."

My heart warmed with the understanding that God has been working on him for the past year. since that time, this brother has become a staunch supporter of God's work among homosexuals.

Naturally, my wife, Iris, didn't fully understand homosexuality although she has become compassionate toward homosexuals. She no longer sees me as a former homosexual, but as Bernard-her husband.

I've also found help in my struggles by going deeper into God's Word. I'm taking a course on Christian maturity that week by week encourages me as I grow in the knowledge of Christ. Gaining strength as a believer has been the key to my growth. My homosexual temptations haven't entirely disappeared, but it becomes easier to crush them when you've been diligently studying God's Word.

I have come to a better understanding of myself through the study of the Bible. I can sum up this understanding of myself with the Scripture in 2 Corinthians 12:10, "For when I am weak, then am I strong." Rather than my own willpower it is God's power working in me which keeps me strong and pressing forward in victory.

Since my conversion I have witnessed with our evangelism team on the streets of Yonkers, telling of Jesus' mercy. I want other homosexuals and lesbians to know there is a way out of their despair. Like me, they can have hope for the future. My peace is found through knowing and obeying Jesus Christ.

Distributed by Love in Action P.O. Box 753307, Memphis, TN 38175-3307; 901/542-0250.

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