Out of Homosexuality: A Pastor’s Story Out of Homosexuality: A Pastor’s Story
By John Howard as told to Bob Davies
“God, please help me,” was my frequent prayer. It felt like agiant magnet pulled me into the wrong places. I felt angry and guiltybut I couldn’t stop.
Growing up, I was always the smallest kid in my class, and wasvery self-conscious about it. Mom made it worse by always begging meto eat bigger meals.
“John, look at all these people staring at me,” she whispered tome one day on the bus. “They’re wondering why I don’t feed you more.”
When I was 13, my father got a job transfer from Calgary, Albertato Thunder Bay, Ontario. That was a rough transition for me. I wasjust starting high school, and it was frightening.
The first day in my new school, a guy named Bill invited me to hischurch. I’d gone to Sunday School sporadically, and knew it would bea good place to find some new friends. So I started going every weekwith him to the United Church just down the hill from our school.
Later, in our Grade 10 Sunday School class, we were invited to aspecial six-week series of classes, to be followed by a specialconfirmation service for those who wanted to join the church.
I’ll never forget the sermon that Sunday morning, as I sat in thefront pew with my class. “You’re not joining a club,” the ministertold us. “What you’re really doing is giving your lives to JesusChrist, asking Him to come in and take control.” I’d never heard thatbefore.
“God,” I prayed, “if You’re really there, I invite You to comeinto my life. Please forgive me for my sins, and help me become theperson You want me to be.”
As I prayed, something happened. Deep inside came an assurancethat God was real, and I was overwhelmed with the feeling of beingloved. I knew for sure that God loved me, little John Howard. It wasan amazing experience. After that service in April, 1963, I went toevery possible church activity. I had a new hunger to read the Bibleand pray. Church was suddenly a very important part of my life.
But at the same time, something else was happening, somethinghidden and troubling. As a young teen, I discovered a pile of oldsporting magazines down in the basement. Flipping the pages, I wasdrawn to the Charles Atlas ads. Looking at the muscularbody-builders, I thought: Now that’s what a real man looks like. Iwish I could look like that.
I found those photos sexually arousing, and started masturbatingwhile looking at them. Later, I accidentally discovered anothermagazine in a corner store, filled with handsome men in swim suitsand jock straps in seductive poses. I felt fascinated and turned on.Somehow I knew these feelings were wrong and I felt guilty forlooking, and yet the sexual excitement was strong and powerful.
Thus, an inner conflict began that would continue for almost 20years. On the one hand I prayed that God would take away thesefeelings, while on the other I continued to find them enjoyable. Iwas too ashamed to tell anyone else what was happening inside me.
I had a lot of girlfriends during high school and felt verycomfortable around them. Despite the increasing sexual desire forother guys, I assumed I’d eventually get married.
Then through school and church I met a girl named Vicki and westarted dating. We married when we were both 21, but the conflictinside of me only increased. Often I’d have homosexual fantasieswhile I was being intimate with my wife, and secretly sought outmagazines and books to feed my homosexual desires.
By this time, I was in seminary, training for the ministry. Vickiand I had our first daughter in 1972, then adopted a son. Later wehad another girl. I deeply loved my wife and children, but thelustful thoughts were out of control. Although I didn’t want to losemy family, I felt an increasing desire to act out my homosexualfeelings, to see if reality was the same as fantasy.
In the summer of 1974 on my way home from a conference, I wasdelayed in Winnipeg. Instead of staying with friends, I went to ahostel which had the reputation for homosexual activity.
Another man approached me that night. After he left my room, Iheaded for the showers. I felt so guilty and dirty and also afraidthat I might have caught some kind of venereal disease.
Later that night, I knelt beside the bed and prayed. “God, I’m sosorry. Please forgive me for this awful sin. I promise I’ll never doit again. And please take away these wrong feelings.”
By this time, I was on staff at Collier Street United Church inBarrie, Ontario. I had to travel quite often to Toronto, runningerrands and doing hospital visitation. On these trips I had troublestaying out of the adult bookstores.
“God, please help me,” was my frequent prayer on the drive intoToronto. But once I got there, it felt like a giant magnet pulled meinto the wrong places. I’d browse through the gay magazines andmemorize the pictures, later fantasizing about what I’d seen. I feltangry and guilty but I couldn’t stop.
Then I started driving past cruising areas and reading graffiti onbathroom walls. I knew if this behavior continued, I’d get drawn intohomosexual activity again. Eventually, I’d get caught and lose my joband family.
Meanwhile at church, I was meeting regularly with ten small groupleaders. Discussing problems in their groups as well as any personalissues, we got to know one another really well.
After one of these meetings, two of the women approached me.”John, we can sense you’re really struggling with something,” theysaid. “If you ever want to talk, we want you to know we’re here foryou.”
I brushed them off. “Oh, no, everything’s fine. Thanks a lot.”Inside, I was scared. Other people can tell I have a problem, Ithought.
During the next trip to Toronto, I ended up in an adult bookstoreagain. On the drive home, God spoke to me: “John, I’ve provided thesepeople for you to talk with.” I called one of the ladies that nightand said I needed to meet with them.
The following Friday, I talked to them all afternoon, pouring outmy soul. They loved and accepted me, often crying with me as weshared together. We committed ourselves to meeting every two weeks.During the next year, the Lord worked in my life in a beautiful way.
At each meeting, we asked God to reveal what needed to bediscussed, then waited for Him to reveal an incident or feeling totalk and pray about. Gradually we uncovered the roots of my behaviorand God began the process of restoration in my life.
These women became my support group. When I was going to Toronto,I could call them up and ask for prayer. That accountability made areal difference. The addiction to pornography and masturbation beganto wane.
God showed me these sinful habits were unhealthy ways I dealt withnegative emotions: stress, loneliness, anger, hurt feelings. He alsohelped me accept my body, to realize that it was His gift to me, notsomething to be ashamed of.
After a few months, I knew my wife had to know what was going on.One night before we went to bed, I finally confessed to her mystruggles with homosexuality.
Vicki was hurt that I’d kept this part of me from her for so manyyears, but she supported my search for healing. And, although she wasdedicated to our marriage, she knew any overt homosexual activity wasadultery. If I chose that behavior, she’d leave me. Knowing herlimits was added motivation for me to never fall again.
The healing process continued over the months. I gradually toldmore people what I was dealing with, and they were very supportive.My senior pastor discovered a book with Love In Action’s address inthe back. I wrote for materials and gobbled up the information.
In the spring of 1985, I attended a conference in Vancouver,Canada on the healing of homosexuality. It was so encouraging to meetand share with other ex-gays. “God,” I prayed that week, “if you wantme to start a ministry to homosexuals, I’m willing.”
Then one morning on the news, I heard about the arrest of a manwho’d been a Sunday School teacher in a United Church in anothercity. He had been caught in homosexual activity. After sayinggood-bye to his wife and children, he’d gone out and killed himself.
I wept, knowing that, except for God’s grace, that could have beenme. I also knew there were so many people struggling withhomosexuality who had never heard there was hope for change.
“God,” I prayed, “if going public with my story can help preventthat kind of tragedy in one person’s life, I’m willing to do it.”
So, in January 1986, I started an ex-gay support group that isstill going strong. It’s been exciting to see the changes that Godhas brought about in the lives of the people who have come.
God has continued to work in my marriage. Now I really enjoy thephysical part of my relationship with Vicki, no longer needinghomosexual fantasies for stimulation.
Compared to five years ago, my struggles with homosexual lust arevirtually gone. I’m not afraid of temptation when it comes; I’velearned how to successfully deal with it.
For so many years I struggled to deal with my homosexualitybetween just me and the Lord. Then I discovered that all along He hadwanted to bring me healing by means of His people. I praise God thatHe led me to two loving Christians who were willing to be Hisinstruments of healing and change. And so it is true, as James wrote:”Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that youmay be healed.” (James 5:16) Praise God!
Copyright 1988 by Bob Davies. Distributed by Love In Action,PO Box 753307 Memphis, TN 38175-3307; 901/542-0250