**Update from Robin: I am working on my next book which really deals with freedom from homosexual behavior and desire. People seem so reluctant to believe this is possible and all I can say to my Catholic friends- do we really believe in the power of the Eucharist?
[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text]Excerpt from I Just Came for Ashes, Chapter 6 “Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go”
Robin Beck had been active in the gay community for over 30 years. One February afternoon she innocently walked into a Catholic Church to “do ashes”. Having no intentions of ever leaving gay life and not an ounce of desire to become Roman Catholic, I Just Came For Ashes is the amazing story of God’s alternate plans for His daughter’s life. Following is an excerpt from her story.
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Jesus Christ our Lord. — ROMANS 8: 38-39
Let me begin this chapter by saying that I am really sorry I have to write it. I was actually hoping for two paragraphs about “gay life” before going on to something else. Well, God is making me own the whole gory story, so allow me to continue (much to my chagrin).
My Third Gay Relationship
It would be relationship number three that led me to the dreadful conclusion that I was gay. I met Margaret at the Baptist church that I began attending while still living with Lynn. I had been roped into working with the children, which was something I had vowed I would never do again after my last church experience, but somehow my gifts always led me down that road. Margaret helped me with the children’s choir, and believe me, those kids needed a whole lot of help. Most of them were all from single-parent households that were as dysfunctional as the one I was raised in, so how could I possibly say “No” to this assignment? Anyway, Margaret and I became fast friends, and after Lynn left me, I grew quite dependent on her.
Emotional Turmoil
On the surface, I was vivacious, high- energy, and upbeat, but internally I was whacked out. A couple of years before Lynn and I parted, I developed an eating disorder and it would escalate out of control after I got together with Margaret. Food had been my drug of choice for years, even as a child, but it wasn’t until my 20s that I became bulimic. I’m not up to speed on the psychological causes of eating disorders, but mine may have stemmed from self-loathing, guilt, emotional turmoil, a desire to die… take your pick – I had all of these issues, and at least one of them showed up every single day. Food was my way of numbing the pain.
My attraction to women was always emotional, and I think this is true for the majority of gay women. Unfortunately, I continually chose partners who were, like me, psychologically challenged (although I admit that I was the most disturbed one of all). I kept hoping to find a stable, loving, nurturing woman to heal my heart (in other words, I was looking for the mom I never had), but it was never going to happen in a relationship that was on the “sin list” and not sanctioned by God. I have come to agree with the catechism of the Catholic Church that homosexuality is a sexual disorder (which may explain why I had one “out of order” relationship after another).
Gay and a Christian
So I have now decided that I am “gay” but I also believe myself to be a “Christian”. The night I “came out” to myself my exact words were “Lord, I’m gay, and Lord, I am a Christian”. I would struggle for years, trying to find peace in my life, with those two realities warring against each other. It would involve trying to reinterpret Scripture and convince Bible- believing Christians that they were the ones who were wrong concerning their understanding of certain biblical texts.
There was no internet back in the day when I entered gay life, but I somehow discovered a group of “evangelical gay Christians”. I was elated and embraced them with all my heart, while Margaret was more guarded. The whole “gay thing” was more of a struggle for Margaret, as she feared total rejection by her family. As previously stated, my family was so broken and dysfunctional that when they rejected me, it was just par for the course. I had learned long before I came out not to count on my kin for much of anything.
We decided to deal with Margaret’s dilemma by not dealing with it at all. We ran away and moved to the other side of the country! We left our church, our friends, and our new support system and headed east, where absolutely nothing changed except our address (and our rent tripled).
You may be wondering why I did the same stupid thing again (running away) when it didn’t work the first time I did it (running to Bible college). Because that’s what crazy people do – the same thing over and over again, each time expecting different results. In some circles, it’s known as the definition of “insanity”!
Anger and Frustration
Life out east was not fun, even though we lived six blocks from the ocean. Margaret still could not deal with being gay, and I lived in constant fear that she, like my first partner and then Lynn, would one day leave me. My anxiety manifested itself in anger and a worsening of my eating disorder. If I screamed and ranted, Margaret would retreat into a world of silence (which made me scream louder and rant all the more).
I got so frustrated that one night, I took a bottle of Tylenol in hopes of provoking some interaction between us. It didn’t work. She never reacted to my stunt, so I went to bed, figuring I wouldn’t have a headache for a couple of months. I ended up with a toxic liver, a four-day stay in the hospital, and a bunch of people angry at me for being such a moron.
Margaret and I never talked about what I had done. She came to the hospital every day and sat by my bedside knitting, acting as if I were there to have my tonsils removed. Since we never addressed what was wrong or how to fix it, things never improved.
A Cycle of Abandonment and Remorse
After four years of her never being able to deal with our relationship, I departed. I left for another woman, believing that this new person was secure and comfortable with being gay. Turns out, she suffered with mental illness, so the fact that she was willing to march in a parade didn’t seem all that important in light of the bigger issues bombarding our life together. I ended up breaking Margaret’s heart, and to this day, I feel terrible remorse for doing that.
From this point on, my life totally went to the dark side. I moved back to Michigan, the place I grew up, for this new woman and moved out four months later. I bounced from relationship to relationship, often overlapping them, moving in with most of my partners. (The post office hated me, as they never knew where to deliver my mail.) Things would start out great, and I was always sure that this time, I had finally found the right partner. But in less than a year, I’d be miserable, wonder what in the heck I was doing, and leave. There were periods where I’d take a time out and actually live alone, hoping and even praying that I’d get my life together. I would ask God (and sometimes even beg) to send along a nice guy I could love and start a family with. But before long, I’d get involved with another woman and repeat the cycle all over again. In all, I had 11 partners.
Caving In…Again
Relationship number 11 was a doozy (the grand finale to this horror story known as my life). I had recommitted my life to the Lord in the winter of 2000. I was attending a Christian college, finishing up my bachelor’s degree. Perhaps you’re wondering what I was doing at a Christian college. Well, it was a weekend program that allowed me to keep working, so I told them I was gay and asked them if that would be a problem, to which they replied “No”. I had wonderful teachers who loved the Lord, and in the midst of their shining lights, I realized that I also loved Jesus and still belonged to Him. But as in the past, Satan, that roaring hungry lion who prowls around looking for someone to devour, was just smirking at my rediscovered love for Christ, and he was about to tear me up once more.
I started a graduate program in psychology at a seminary in the fall of 2001. On September 5 (my 46th birthday) I met a woman at a retirement home where I sang every week. She was the most charming, brilliant, and intriguing person I had ever encountered, and, oh, by the way – she happened to be married (with children, no less). We had an immediate connection. She shared with me that her marriage had been over for two years (funny thing – she forgot to tell her husband). I should have run for the hills, but pitiful, weak-willed, foolish me caved in to my emotional neediness and got involved with her.
Serious Illness
God was extremely displeased with my behavior. This time, I had really done it, and in due season, I would be severely chastised by Him.
In August of 2004, after she had divorced her husband and we had been living together for a while, I was struck down by a serious illness that sent me to the ICU for 13 days – completely bedbound and hooked up to all kinds of monitors, with tubes coming out of my arms and legs. I would not regain my health until December (although I went back to work four days after I was discharged from the hospital out of necessity).
I didn’t know it at the time, but Heidi had planned on leaving me before I got sick. She stayed until I had regained my health then moved back across town to be with her kids. I had no idea that she was moving out until the day she picked up the keys to the condo she had purchased. It was one of the most painful and heart-breaking days of my life, but deep down, I knew she was doing the right thing. I did very little complaining to God over being abandoned and betrayed, as I knew in my heart I deserved every bit of pain I was experiencing for what I had done.
Repentance
In the months that followed, I put on sackcloth and began some serious repenting. I looked at this 11-car train wreck and knew that God wanted me to sort through the wreckage, but most days, I just couldn’t deal with it. I would lie face down on the floor and cry out, “Oh God, please tell me this isn’t my life!” I kept hoping I would wake up and find it was all just a really, really bad dream. But it was my life, and I had to own it – every last bit of it.
His Mercies Never Ceased
God would have been totally justified in taking me out back in 2004. He had every right to wipe me off the planet, but He didn’t. His love never let go of me; His mercies never ceased. I absolutely marvel at the depths of His grace and His ceaseless loving kindness, especially as I would mess up one more time. But in the end, I would surrender to Jesus, and that surrender would be total and complete!
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