I shed tears the night I
told him about my SSA. Back in 05/06 telling people hadn’t gone so well for me
and there was some pain and betrayal in all that, which I’ve blogged on
previously. He was/is my best mate; we are similar in good ways (passionate,
driven, thinkers, questioners) and bad ways (head strong, critical, insular).
He’s probably the person I’d most want to spend time with and have the best
flowing conversations with. We’d gone to the same school since Year 7 and had
been almost instant friends.

I told him via email or
instant messenger in the middle of 06 about my SSA. He was s.h.o.c.k.e.d as I
expected he would be.
In the days that followed I got like 10 emails from him about his thoughts and
what I could be doing. Ouch. In the two years since we haven’t talked about it
that much. Sometimes he’ll ask me how that part of my life is going, but it
doesn’t get too deep. Though it’s obvious he’s aware when I talk about my
struggles of porn and masturbation it’s not ’cause I’m thinking about the

Anyway on the weekend we
went deep on this stuff. It was probably one of the most honest conversations,
voice to voice, I’ve ever had with anyone. Praise God. I talked about my
temptations, my thinking patterns when tempted and how my SSA works out in
being attracted to specific individual or types of men. And he listened and
didn’t say anything weird in response. I guess God’s been working in both of us
since August 06 when tears were shed and emails were sent. What a gift that I
have someone in my life, real life, I can tell anything to.

it is more valuable because of the two years it took to reach this point and
the awkwardness and pain as well that came about when SSA came into our friendship.



Earlier this year my family (dad, mum, my younger sister and I) were going to a family friend’s 21st party none of us were that keen about. It was a dark, coldish night and the party was out the back and we were enterting via the front door where it was basically silent. Except none of us wanted to be the first person to enter who would have to lead the polite ‘hellos’ and so forth as we made our way to the action.

It’s always the little things…’cause about this time I noticed that the reason I always hang back in groups of people going somewhere or let someone else be the first step ahead if we’re walking to a destination, wasn’t neccesarily because I was polite. In fact I realised there was some nervousness about making a decision of direction, not wanting to be out in front and responsible in some way etc.

My dad always hangs back and lets my mum be the one ahead, and i’m sure sometimes he’s being polite and so forth. But at that party it struck me as weakness; similar to a limp handshake or something.

I was reminded of this when I was going to lunch with a mate on Thursday. I knew where we were going and he didn’t; yet I was still doing my one step behind thing. It was kind of awkward and then I remembered about my lesson on leading and put my front foot forward.


I don’t take criticism well. It’s like a character flaw or something.

Yesterday I did something mildly wrong when trying to get a comment about something off a government media advisor and then she rings up and has a go at me for two minutes. The thing is I felt justified in my assumptions, which led me to ask for information and only give her two hours to do it, which I knew she wouldn’t be able to do. But I doubted very much she would do it even if she had enough time, because it’s not the sort of thing they comment on.

It really got to me and it made me think no one has really criticised me in a while. I don’t necessarily think this is a good thing as I think because I don’t take criticism well people don’t give me slightly negative advice and eventually when they do have to criticise me it all comes out at once. But that has only happened a few times.

People sometimes say i’m defensive, but i’m a thinker so probably when I do something questionable I’ve usually justified it to myself before hand.

In the end it’s about pride. Pride is bad. Chris needs to kill pride.


Do I trust God? Do I trust Him?


I’m a minority (Australians), of a minority (Christians) of a minority (dealing with same sex attraction). But wow; an exclamation of astonishment, and maybe praise, but definitely not delight. Wow. That this (SSA) is the way God would choose for me to know that He is enough. That Christ crucified took my sins. That such were some of you. That this (my sinful nature and my sin) is why the wrath of God was upon me.


Do I trust God? Do I trust Him?


I’m not one to suggest that God takes risks or is ever surprised. If he is Sovereign and in control then somewhere along the way he allowed everything. Somewhere along the way God allowed SSA to come my way.


“…you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good…” (Gen 50:20) Josesph says to his brothers in Egypt years after they sold him as a slave and pretended he was dead.


Do I trust God? Do I trust Him?


If it wasn’t for SSA I’d probably be a Pharisee. But this battle comes up and knocks out my pride and self-sufficiency. If it wasn’t for SSA would I ‘really’ be a Christian. Maybe I’d just be a cultural Christian. It wasn’t for SSA would I know the depth of my sinfulness and brokenness. Sometimes it surprises me with how very bent my sinful self is.

Do I trust God? Do I trust Him?


Sometimes my mantra is a line out of Nine Day’s song, Bitter: “If I could change anything; I would change everything.” But these were the thoughts I had this morning. Are they crazy?