I have deep compassion for LGBTQ+ men and women, because I have "been there." I was aware of being "different" from around age 13, and by my early 20s I had decided to live life as an "out" gay male. I dove head-first into the gay community in the city where I lived and explored it all: the nightlife, the culture, the pride marches, the drag shows, and of course the sex. ​During that time, I often wondered whether what I was doing was right, whether who I'd become was the person God wanted me to be. But I just couldn't believe God actually cared who I did what with, or who I became in the process. After all, it was just sex, right? And don't we live in a more enlightened age than all those prudish ancients? ​So… my party went on for almost two decades. God kept His distance, but He never let me forget Him. Then, in the early 2000s, He called me out with a single verse from the prophet Jeremiah: ​This is what the Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest…" —Jeremiah 6: 16 Out of nowhere, the Holy Spirit (who had so far been quiet about my years-long same-sex relationship to a man) suddenly started speaking. The message was simple. I had a choice: I could either walk with my same-sex partner, or I could walk with God; I couldn't do both. I chose God. It was the right choice, but a difficult one, since I did not have much support in the beginning. Fast-forward. Two episodes in the Bible began to stick with me. The first is the one about the Good Samaritan. I couldn't get my mind off what the Good Samaritan did after bandaging the poor guy up: Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ —Luke 10: 34–35 I knew Jesus was teaching about more than being a good neighbor. He was also teaching about Himself. He was the Good Samaritan. I saw myself in the beaten-up guy, and imagined myself recuperating in that inn, off the street, safe from harm, my room and board paid for by someone who would one day return. I began to wonder whether some small part of my choice to repent had to do with Jesus Himself. And if some small part of it had to do with Jesus, didn't that really mean that all of it had to do with Him? Around the same time, a scene in the book of Acts took my breath away. Paul and Luke are sailing for Rome on a crowded Roman ship. Near the island of Crete, the ship encounters a storm that rages for fourteen days. By the end of the two weeks, the ship has only made it as far as Malta. In the midst of all the tossing and turning, Paul has a vision, which he reports to his traveling companions: But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed. Last night an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I serve stood beside me and said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.’ So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as he told me. Nevertheless, we must run aground on some island.” —Acts 27: 24–26 That sounds like good news, but Paul's ordeal was hardly over. In fact, "running aground on some island" turned out to be the worst part so far: When daylight came, they did not recognize the land, but they saw a bay with a sandy beach, where they decided to run the ship aground if they could. Cutting loose the anchors, they left them in the sea and at the same time untied the ropes that held the rudders. Then they hoisted the foresail to the wind and made for the beach. But the ship struck a sandbar and ran aground. The bow stuck fast and would not move, and the stern was broken to pieces by the pounding of the surf. The soldiers planned to kill the prisoners to prevent any of them from swimming away and escaping. But the centurion wanted to spare Paul’s life and kept them from carrying out their plan. He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and get to land. The rest were to get there on planks or on other pieces of the ship. In this way everyone reached land safely. —Acts 27: 39–44 Again, I imagined myself into the scene. Tired and exhausted on an endlessly rocking ship, but God says I won't be lost. And then it hit me: God plans trips to work out ahead of time, but He doesn't necessarily make the trip free of trial or tribulation. That was pretty much the scene I was living in my own life, wasn't it? An endlessly churning sea, death possibly moments away, and yet—the promise of safety. Could it be that God had already worked my safety into the story of my life? As these two very different Bible scenes converged in my my mind, I gradually realized that God works even in my choices. They're my choices, but with Christ in me, in some unfathomable way they must also be His choices. Maybe my life didn't hang by a thread from the choice I'd made. Perhaps my choice mattered, but perhaps God also had the big picture of my life already in view. And maybe—just maybe—He was determined to make sure it got painted beautifully, just as He imagined it for me. With that realization, some of the harder scriptures in the Bible began to make sense: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. —Romans 8: 28 Since that day many years ago, I've learned that my identity in Christ—in Christ alone—is worth infinitely more than everything I gave up. Jesus declared: ​Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. —John 15: 4 ​I'm not "cured" from SSA, but God's power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). Furthermore, God has used my struggle and my heart for Him to draw me closer and to make me stronger. I can only agree with the psalmist when he proclaims: ​Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. —Psalm 34: 8