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LGBTQ NationI spent sixteen years as a fundamental evangelical Christian, trying to get God to fix me. I studied theology and Biblical counseling for three years in the hopes of discovering what I was doing wrong that was keeping God from answering my prayers to make me straight. I struggled with the guilt of same-sex attraction every day, and had no way of turning it off.
I was so despondent over my situation that I felt suicidal. I knew what was in store for me if I came out, but I was really at the point where I was either going to be a gay woman, or a dead woman. Thinking about my two beautiful children, I knew that they would prefer a gay mom. So I did what I had to do. I just had no idea how bad it would get before it started to get better.
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The elders came to meet with me at my dad’s house to confirm that I was a lesbian, although I had not been unfaithful to my husband, or had any lesbian relationships during our marriage. They called me an apostate: one who knows the truth, but who then chooses to turn away from God and reject Him.
I told them that I loved God, and did not reject Him. They believe in predestination, so I argued that if I was chosen by God, then being a lesbian wouldn’t keep me from heaven—and that if God didn’t choose me I was going to hell anyway, so I might as well be happy in this life. They told me that I was going to hell, and left. Before exiting, they asked my husband to be sure that our two children were in worship service on the Sunday a few weeks later when they were having the Lord’s Supper.
In that public worship service, they announced my “sin” to the congregation, and invited everyone to contact me to let me know how they felt about my sin. The congregation was told they were not allowed to speak to me about anything other than my sin.
I praise God that my children did not make it to that service, as my dad took my kids up to his cabin for the day (where my ex was not able to locate them). After the service I received angry letters telling me that I was hell-bound–including one from a twelve-year-old friend of my daughter. I got a visit from one woman who came by my house to speak to me about how I was grieving Jesus. She became emotional and lashed out, punching me in the face and bloodying my nose. I also praise God for sparing my daughter that sight.
My ex’s church helped him to hire a “Christian” lawyer to help him hide our assets. I had to borrow $2,000 from my father to hire my own lawyer. This man took my case, then never met with me until the day before my hearing. I didn’t even know that I was allowed to have witnesses. The judge of our case was appointed by the governor of Georgia, who happened to be a Sunday School teacher at the same mega-church my ex’s lawyer attended—where Johnny Hunt, then President of the Southern Baptist Convention, was pastor.
And it was an election year.
I didn’t have a prayer in my rural Georgia county.
I lost my home, rental properties, custody of my kids, my dog, and everything else I had ever worked for. The judge ordered me to leave with only my eight-year-old car and my clothes, until such time as the ex and I worked out an agreement.
For the next two years my ex continued to argue with me over everything, so that I would go broke just negotiating, and give up everything to him.
http://www.lgbtqnation.com/2011/11/they-publicly-prayed-for-my-death/">Click Here To Read More
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