Coming Clean (Present Progressive)*

After the incident overseas, I had a domestic encounter: strike number two. So it was with real dread that I approached Bryan about my most recent transgression.

Actually, confessing this third strike to Bryan wasn't the true source of my anxiety. At the same time that I was planning and arranging my meet-and-greet-and-beat-the-meat, Bryan coincidentally stepped up his accountability regimen.

"How are things going with your struggle? How can I pray for you? Have you hooked up with anyone lately? Are you planning on hooking up?"

Lying to Bryan via email was much easier than lying to his face, but the net effect on my conscience and on our relationship was the same. These weren't just regular lies, which are corrosive enough in a friend or ministry relationship; I had an explicit understanding that I would always be forthcoming with Bryan, especially because he had defended me to our congregation as an upright, trustworthy brother. So much for that.

Knowing the confession would be difficult, I had composed a basic script in my head several days before, and stuck to it fairly closely.

Rather than looking Bryan directly in the face, I traced shapes on my place mat with my index finger. "Bryan, I have to ask your forgiveness. I had been truthful to you about things before, but I lied to you recently..." This was followed by a general account of my indiscretion, then an explanation of what I had learned from the whole ordeal.

"Since this happened, I realized I was trying to resist temptation on my own strength, instead of submitting to the Lord and allowing Him to help me. Ironically I feel much closer to Him since the hook up, because it's teaching me to be more dependent, and trust less in myself. So even though I know what I did was a sin, I see how God is using it, and I understand why He allowed it to happen."

Bryan listened respectfully, then began with the his usual questions, and started talking about consequences. I interrupted him.

"You didn't respond to what I said in the beginning."

"Oh. I didn't? What did you say?"

Why did he always make me repeat the hardest things? And this one, more difficult than just about anything else. "I lied to you. I don't deserve it, but...do you forgive me?"

His smile said "how ridiculous" before his lips said, "of course. Of course I do." Hearing Bryan's response was like falling into a bed with a downy comforter after an exhausting day. Relief. Yet it was a relief not unmixed with an echo of guilt: forgiving comes as naturally to Bryan as abusing trust did to me.

But there would be world and time enough later for remorse, for dealing with the consequences. Sometimes it's enough just to be forgiven.

------------------------
^*Unfortunately, I don't feel like I'm making much "progress" at present in ending the struggle between faith and sexuality. Then again, I don't feel like my past is very perfect, either. If only life could be categorized and parsed as neatly as verb tenses.