I want to begin by saying thank you to all the prayer warriors, parents, and friends who have kept your struggling loved ones in your prayers. I testify to the power of prayer. God still performs miracles, and He’s sitting on His throne!

Although I grew up living with my mother and stepfather, I vaguely remember the presence of my father, and the few memories I have are pleasant. My parents divorced when I was about five years old, and I had to learn to live with the man my mom chose as her new husband.

When I was about the age of ten, my life became dark, lonely, and cold. My mother was a busy woman—owning her own business and working hard for all she had—so I guess that made it easier for my stepfather to sexually abuse me. As a father figure, he was supposed to show me how to trust. He was supposed to be there for me. Although he could never take the place of my father, he was supposed to at least try to be the father figure I needed. I remember clearly the nights I slept in my closet to hide from him, the monster who sneaked into my room. While I was taking a shower, he even disguised his voice to sound like Mom so I’d open the door.

Protecting myself became a constant struggle. Day in and day out, I had to push him away and prevent him from doing more to me than many others have endured. I had to become strong and defend myself, which led to a lot of emotions and feelings I had to suppress. I was so confused, and I didn’t know why this awful thing was happening to me. At the age of twelve, I was already kissing older men, but I never allowed anything further to happen. As I think back, I realize I was allowing them to molest me.

My mother was a strong woman, domineering and never affectionate. My relationship with her was never what it should have been. She wasn’t someone whom I could trust, let alone someone I could tell what was going on, because I wondered, as many victims do, what she would think: Would she believe me? Would she blame me? Is this all my fault? So I kept quiet and grew up alone and isolated.

Usually, I stayed in my room and listened to music. That was my escape. Trying to go downstairs for something to eat or drink was like mission impossible because the enemy was in his dungeon, and I dared not go down there. Instead, I waited for an opportune time to go. If I heard my mom downstairs, I joined her. They say a mother always knows and, in my heart, I felt she knew something was not right. After school, I went to her place of business and sat in her office and did my homework. Unfortunately, my stepfather could also go there since they worked together. It seemed as if I could never escape him. During one of those times, my mother opened the door, and, although I looked right at her while I tried to push him off me, she just quickly closed the door. Like a tattoo, that incident has stained my memory of her.

In sixth grade, I had crushes on some of the boys, but in seventh grade that came to a screeching halt. I started to notice girls. I had a crush on my teacher and also on another girl. I didn’t really understand why I had those feelings since I still liked boys and had many boyfriends. However, those boyfriends were only at school, and there was never any mention of them at home. I tried to escape my home life as much as possible and stayed over at a relative’s house as often as I could.

In high school, still wondering what in the world was going on with me, I dated a guy who lived around the corner from our house. The day that guy came to the door and asked for me, my stepfather gave me a nasty look and told me to never allow him to come around the house again. So I started meeting him away from the house. When he called at my house, he was told that I wasn’t home.

At sixteen years of age, I had my first encounter with a woman. The only thing I knew was that I felt safe—that it was okay to have girlfriends since I was forbidden to have boyfriends. I was with this person for a couple of years, and after that, it seemed as if this was to be my life. I never questioned it. God was never mentioned in my home, so I didn’t know who Jesus was. I got involved with one girl after another after another, and soon was fully engaged in the gay lifestyle. I didn’t claim to be born that way, but I felt safe in those relationships. That continued for nineteen years with some fifteen partners.

In the midst of all that, I met Jesus. When I was about twelve years old, my dad accepted the Lord, and he and my stepmom occasionally took my sister and me to Bible study. Although I received Christ at the age of twelve, I never really knew Him. I strayed and got caught up in a life of sin.

During my last relationship, I felt empty and alone; nothing was going well anymore. And then, at the age of thirty-five, I received an email from the person I was seeing. The email contained part of an article about how President Obama was going to require everyone to have a chip placed in them. Whoever rejected it would be placed in a camp, then left to starve and die. The article made the book of Revelation become real to me, and I felt very afraid because I knew that I wasn’t living a righteous life. The Holy Spirit kept tugging at me for weeks; I was no longer at peace or comfortable with the life I was living.

In my heart, I knew what I had to do, so on Friday, October 1, 2010, I met with the person I was dating and broke up with her. Two days later, on Sunday, as Pastor Greg Laurie made the altar call, he looked right at me and said these words, “It doesn’t matter what you have done. The Lord just wants you to come back!” I then rededicated my life to Jesus Christ.

Has it been easy? No, not at all. Will my same-sex attraction ever go away? No, probably not, but if we truly allow Jesus to transform us, there is victory. But only with Christ can we get through the tough, tempting times. The thorn is there to remind us from whence we came, because where we’re going is so much greater!

God’s plan for our lives is so much better than selling out to what the world says is an acceptable lifestyle. We all know that God meant for sexual relations to occur between a man and a woman, not a man and a man or a woman and a woman. I pray you will be encouraged and that you continue to seek Christ and believe in the deliverance for either yourself or your child. Remember, timing is in the Almighty hands, not in ours. May you be strengthened by this hope and just keep believing.