Church that Heals

‘I’m ‘gay’ and I want to be healed.’ These were the words I pronounced when I went for prayer after my first service at my Vineyard Church in Palo Alto, CA, a charismatic evangelical church. I was full of faith and hope. I was also desperate, drowning in my longings to be in the arms of a woman, unable to imagine a world where these feelings didn’t define me, but also knowing they bound me. It was as if they were destroying me from the inside. I had nothing to lose.

Now, with many years of hindsight, I would nuance my desperate prayer request.  ‘My rejection of my femininity, the wounds of betrayal, abuse, and abandonment, my inability to accept intimacy with a man, all need the healing touch of Jesus to transform me into the woman God created me to be.’ But back then, all I knew was that I was ‘gay’ and something needed to change.

It was the Church, Jesus at work through the faith of dozens of prayerful men and women over many years, that revealed the broken roots of my desires and restored the wounded heart behind them. Restoration was in my local church’s DNA.  We were all broken together: any one of us could have asked for prayer the same way that I did.  ‘I’m drug addicted, sex addicted, bulimic, relationally paralyzed…. and I want to be healed.’ Our culture was a mixture of reckless faith and desperation.

Women, wounded but willing, prayed with me through my pain and my distorted beliefs. They spoke to and revealed the woman I was created to be. These members ushered me into the presence of Jesus where I could receive His healing touch.  These women accepted me but also called me higher. At times, their faith was stronger than mine.  When I confessed my failures (and there were plenty), they prayed with me through repentance and held onto the hope of victory over sin. When I wanted to give up, they refused to deny the power of Jesus to free the oppressed. They saw the re-ordering of my desires as a process that each shared in their various struggles. Why should our church have faith for them but not for me?

There were also men who imperfectly yet faithfully modeled fatherhood, brotherhood and friendship. These men defended my dignity and honored me as the woman I was, even if I insisted on hiding it. They chose to see past the defenses I was using to protect my wounded heart. It is impossible to count the number of flawed godly men who loved me well before I came to understand that the men who perpetrated my abuse did not represent the truth of masculinity; they were simply broken humans.  Through these men, I have come to embrace the truth that men bear the image of God in amazing and wondrous ways.

The journey towards wholeness will go on for the rest of my life, as it does for everyone who lives in the light of the cross. Today, as a friend, sister, wife and mother, I continue to discover the beautiful gift that God created in me. When I hit snags of self-rejection, I approach the cross with confidence, flanked by my brothers and sisters. Thanks to the Church, I have had years of training, modeling and practice. I know the freedom of Christ is real.

I thank God for that church… but where are these men and women now? Why are there so few who extend hope to those reeling in sexual confusion? I daily thank Jesus that I was introduced to a church that was full of faith and committed to truth, but I’m not sure my testimony of freedom and healing would be welcome in most churches today. That makes me sad.

Brothers and sisters, I beg you: have vision, hope and patience for messy, wounded people like me.  Have hope, even if some are offended.  Jesus has called the Church, your church, to partner with Him to restore lives. If we don't heed the call, many will suffer. If we do, we will see miracles.

Christie May Jessee is a longtime friend of DSM and a Living Waters leader in Kansas City.