My church has accepted me for who I am and who God is making me into. And they are willing to walk with me down this road, whatever it looks like.
I was glad I had not abandoned my friend when he strayed, and I was determined to keep being the right kind of friend for him.
I lost my sexual sobriety because I went in search of shortcuts to intimacy with other men. I knew it wouldn't satisfy. Just like all the other times.
I did my best not to break down, but I could feel the tears falling down my face. I sucked it up, took a deep breath, and walked out of the church.
I was told I couldn't serve in various areas of ministry, including the youth ministry and being around the younger children at the church.
I don't get wet dreams when I masturbate regularly; they only happen when I don't. Like when it happened last week.
So, as it turns out, I still don't know who I am. And with two decades now under my belt, I have come to the conclusion that I don't know who I want to be.
I didn't belong here. An odd realization to make. YOB is for the outcast. A place for those who feel they don't belong. It's a community for the outcasts.
If it weren't for Jesus, it would just be some hangout weekend with a bunch of gay guys. I think of the term #SquadGoals for our group.
Today marks the 100th post in the life of Your Other Brothers! And what a ride through the blogosphere it's been these last five months.