"If it Makes You Happy"

Read more about Ken’s Life with the Lord in his book The Journey Out: How I followed Jesus Away From Gay

Recently, I found myself singing along to legendary musician Sheryl Crow’s hit song: “If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad.” And, it got me to thinking…

Today, in our plights to fulfill ourselves, find ourselves, or make ourselves happy, we do all kinds of things. Because we can. We turn to cat videos, the all-you-can-eat buffet, TikTok, online games, life coaches, self-help programs, YouTube and podcasts, music-on-demand, and TV and movies any place, any time. We can even filter out the commercials.  

We have our favorite meal order queued up in our phone. Our Instagram page shows our friends and family how happy and beautiful we are. In all appearances, we’ve really got it made! But, as, with all our opportunities to make ourselves happy, maybe we should ask ourselves, as even Sheryl Crow did: ”If it makes you happy, why the h*** are you so sad?”

In 1989, I was 17 years old. I was the “good boy,” the straight A student. The teacher’s pet. The Eagle Scout who served his community, and I was at church four times a week. But I’d begun skipping school, roaming about, trying to quiet the unstoppable chaos in my mind. I’d begun planning a way to kill myself that wouldn’t appear to be a suicide, so as to not destroy my family. There was no acceptable place in society for someone to be grappling with homosexuality in 1989. Not inside the church or out. 

The gays were “gross” or reprehensible. “Rejects.” The people even God hated. At least, that’s the message I’d received from culture. I’d also heard that perspective from many in the church, as well. So, as a teenager, I’d made sure that nobody knew me. That nobody ever would. Not even my parents. 

I was raised in church and got saved at eight years old. But later that same year, I was exposed to hardcore gay pornography. On the pages of that magazine, I wasn’t merely observing a new-to-me approach to intimacy, I saw men degrading other men in grotesque, dehumanizing ways. You likely have no awareness of the acts I’m referring to. I won’t elaborate.

Then the boys who showed me this porn exposed themselves to me and more. So, my first sexual experiences, as an uninformed, naive little boy, were at the hands of other males. The shame was soul-crushing. I wished I could undo all of it.

In those days, I was the scrawniest, shortest boy in every class. Which meant I was mocked and bullied. Not by girls, but by the boys. Also, my dad had a hard time connecting with me, though he really tried. My relationships with men had wounded me. 

Being a young Christian, I reasoned that Jesus wouldn’t treat people the way I’d been treated by men or in the ways I’d observed men behave. Neither would women. I determined that women were superior. They were godly. Men weren’t. I developed strong judgments against rough-and-tumble masculinity. As a self-protection, I canceled masculinity—long before the Barbie movie did. I will not be “manly.” I’d be better than men. Strong women became my role models.

By the time I was about 13, I’d begun to crave externally the masculinity I had disavowed within myself. Femininity seemed familiar. Masculinity felt exotic. The aspects of stereotypical masculinity I’d judged and pushed away, I’d begun to desire sexually. I couldn’t accept masculinity for myself, so it became attractive externally.

Age 14 is when I had the realization that I wasn’t like the other boys. I wasn’t girl-crazy. I’d begun to “notice” a few of the other boys. My own body indicated that I had feelings toward the boys. Realizing this, I was horrified. Devastated. Humiliated. Surely God hated me.

So as a 17 year old, when I sneaked into the Christian bookstore, looking for any hope to leave my “gayness” behind, and finding none, I walked out of the Christian bookstore suicidal. Not knowing what to do with myself or who would be safe to turn to, I went into my basement and began writing out nine pages. I wrote anger, self-hatred, profanity. I vented my feelings of intense loneliness and of not being truly known by any person. I shared all my fears, with descriptions of how horribly broken I felt I was. It all just poured out onto those nine pages. Could I ever be seen as valuable, I wondered. I recounted all the embarrassing, mean-spirited names I’d been called by the bullies for having some effeminate mannerisms. I wrote about my desperate cries to not be gay. I asked questions of whether God could love me—because I had engaged in some moments of sexual sin. 

The next day, I cut school again and handed the pages to my youth pastor. I was basically saying to him: “You might know me as the guy who leads the other young men in your youth group and carries his Bible to high school each day. But you don’t know the real me. This is who I really am.” (Handing over the pages.) “I’m dirty. Detestable. Guilty of the worst kind of sin. How do you like me now?” 

Contrary to our politically correct, make-myself-happy, modern culture, I want Christians worldwide to know this. In my vulnerability to my youth pastor, there are several things I did and did not need from him in that moment. I didn’t need to be told to just live my best life and that maybe I really was gay. I didn’t need to be made comfortable in the ways I had partnered with temptation. On the other hand, I also did not need my pastor to begin a lecture on morality or appear appalled. What I needed was to feel heard and valued by another human. I needed to know that my youth pastor was an imperfect child of God, too. I needed to be reminded that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” I didn’t need to be pacified by culturally-accepted misinformation about having been “born that way,” be made a poster-boy for “courage,” or be propped up as an authority of some new brand of Christian sexual liberation. I didn’t need any flags waving or people cheering about the joys of homosexual living. I needed a hug. I needed sustained eye contact from someone who cared about me. I needed another sinner to confess to “that I might be healed.” I needed a savior who would let me “come boldly before His throne of grace to receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” I needed that savior to make me clean. By His doing, not by mine!

Matthew 16:24-25 (TPT) says:  Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If you truly want to follow me, you should at once completely reject and disown your own life. And you must be willing to share my cross and experience it as your own, as you continually surrender to my ways. For if you choose self-sacrifice and lose your lives for my glory, you will continually discover true life. But if you choose to keep your lives for yourselves, you will forfeit what you try to keep.” 

Would you like to know how Jesus initiates the journey of healing for those with the LGBTQ experience or most anyone else? It’s surrender. Total surrender. For my tribe of people (those walking away from LGBTQ toward Christ), many ministry tools haven’t worked. The American Psychological and Psychiatric Associations have utterly abandoned us, caving to activist pressure and turning a deaf ear to the pain or trauma frequently underneath LGBTQ feelings. The church at-large hasn’t known exactly what to do to help. But as Matthew invites us, if we’ll “choose self-sacrifice…we will continually discover true life.”

In 2001, I was in ministry school. I had a new mentor who had come out of a homosexual life and who now had a wife and two kids. He ministered to me and two others on Tuesday nights at a prayer chapel across town. On this one night, my mentor was leading me in prayer. He would say a phrase and invite me to repeat after him. I was praying along like the good boy I’d tried so hard to be until he invited me to pray: “And Father, I give up all my rights to be gratified by a man sexually ever again.” In that moment, there was a disturbance in the force. I couldn’t pray it. I just froze. He said: “What’s the matter?” I said: “I think I need the weekend.” He said: “Ken you’re so messed up,” with a loving grin. I said: “I know! I know.” My mentor said, “Well, you can spend the weekend in bondage if you want to.” 

How rude, right? We’re supposed to be nice to each other today. Only ever encourage each other, right?  1 Corinthians 13 says, “love rejoices with the truth.” Proverbs 27:6 says, “Faithful are the wounds of a friend.” Those were words of love from a true friend. I even felt that in the moment. I’d asked my mentor for help with finding a way out, and he loved me enough to direct me down that less-traveled pathway, even if it was costly. Even if it caused me momentary pain. I’m so grateful he did.

Why did I think I needed the weekend? Because this prayer scenario had brought me face-to-face with a shocking realization. I wanted God to take away my same-sex desires, but I, apparently, wasn’t willing to let them go!

This blew my mind. Stopped me in my tracks. Because at that point, I’d been through two different nine-month programs for healing of sexual brokenness. I’d had five years of weekly Christian psychotherapy (starting when I was a minor). I’d benefitted from many prayer sessions for deliverance and inner healing. I’d read dozens of books and dived deep into the things of God. I was halfway through a three-year ministry school. I’d prayed countless times for God to take away the desires. For a total of 14 years, I’d been hard at trying to get rid of same-sex attraction (SSA). How is it that I’m not willing to let go of this?” I thought.

As I spent the weekend in reflection, I felt the full weight of the reality that I’d never experienced any significant sexual attraction to a female. I admitted I had no practical reason to believe that, if I gave up my “rights to be gratified by a man sexually ever again,” I’d ever have any kind of sexual fulfillment. I understood I’d become weary and disheartened by the unanswered prayers. This was a hard-hitting surrender that my mentor was asking me to make. For years, and without realizing it, I’d kept the notion of men-being-erotic in my back pocket. In the recesses of my mind, I’d held onto an escape plan in case the sexual desires never changed. For 14 years, I’d been asking Jesus to “take this away,” but I wasn’t willing to surrender that part of myself. The SSA was pleasurable. Unknown even to myself, I wanted to keep it.

How much of today’s mess inside the church can be attributed to this kind of living? We want Jesus in addition to our other wants and preferences. We want Jesus to bless our self-gratification efforts.

My mentor answered my request to have “the weekend” with: “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you get back.”

So, I spent the weekend considering whether I was truly following Jesus, or whether I was following Him when it was convenient. Was Jesus lord of my life? Or was I? I reflected on all that the Lord had done for me. All that He had promised. All the times He’d shown up for me and for my loved ones. The payment He’d made on the cross for my eternal joy and peace. His goodness and kindness. So, I decided that there was no real decision to make. My only logical option was to surrender. 

The next week, I returned to the group and surrendered my sexual future to the Lord—come what may. I’d be following Jesus regardless of what happened with my sexual desires. I surrendered to Him my escape plan. I hoped He’d resolve the SSA and give me feelings for a wife, but I released my control there. If Jesus eventually gave me desire for a woman and we got married, then I’d have sexual fulfillment in my future. But if He didn’t, I’d keep my focus on serving Him. 

Today, the world and half the church are yelling: “self-empowerment, more rights, love is love, focus on yourself, make yourself happy!” “Treat yourself, you deserve it! Live your best life!” “If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad.”

In stark contrast, James 4:1-4 (NKJV) says:  Where do wars and fights come from among you? Do they not come from your desires for pleasure that war in your members? You lust and do not have. You murder and covet and cannot obtain. You fight and war. Yet you do not have because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask amiss, that you may spend it on your pleasures. Adulterers and adulteresses! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Whoever therefore wants to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God. 

Self-gratification never worked for me. It doesn’t work for those with broken identity. We don’t know who we are, and we don’t know what we need. Jeremiah 9 says: The heart is deceitful above all things, And desperately wicked; Who can know it?

Our way forward into fulfillment doesn't come from compromise, from rewriting scripture to make it more palatable or culturally relevant, by deconstructing our faith, or by “becoming God” ourselves. Joy and freedom come from total surrender to Jesus Christ as Lord. They come by my being the son, the servant boy, the disciple. By appreciating Him as the brilliant one. My King. 

James 4 (NKJV) continues in verses 5-10:  Or do you think that the Scripture says in vain, “The Spirit who dwells in us yearns jealously”? But He gives more grace. Therefore He says: “God resists the proud, But gives grace to the humble.” Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Lament and mourn and weep! Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.

This is my story. It’s how the Lord led me. The journey has been messy, clunky. Unpolished, imperfect. Really desperate many times. There were very few role models for me along my journey and very few books had been written on the topic. But, the Lord led me, tended to me, and eventually lifted me up. It just didn’t come through prowess or brilliance. It has come through deep surrender.

I have spoken with hundreds of people on a journey out of the painful pit of LGBTQ identity and activity. Their stories are the same as mine; living a life surrendered to Jesus’ lordship is what brought a new life. James 4 tells us: “You ask and do not receive because you ask amiss, that you may spend it on your pleasures.” As discouraging as it may sound, God rarely answers the Take away my same-sex attraction prayer in the moment it’s prayed. Probably because He’s too good. He wants more for us than that. He knows that SSA is not the problem. It’s deeper. Underneath those sexual desires are trauma, rejection, abandonment, relational brokenness, and emotional pain. I know now in hindsight that God didn’t want to just grant my wish, He wanted to grant me a new life—wholeness, freedom, resolution of the trauma, comfort for the rejection, and on and on. As such, a more effectual prayer sounds something like the song: “Have thine own way, Lord. Have thine own way. [You are] the potter. I am the clay. Mold me and make me after [Your] will. While I am waiting, yielded and still.” That prayer opens a big door.

Joy and freedom don’t come, for any of us, from relaxing the standards or by compromise. They come from following His leadership, day after day. We surrender all of our preferences, ungodly passions, and unscriptural identities until we are stripped down to merely a man or woman standing before his/her God. Jesus loves it! He draws near and lifts us up! He moves in and starts directing—Righteousness, peace, and joy are dead ahead.

My sexual brokenness journey was decades-long. The Lord has led, and still leads, me to do so many things in my discipleship journey. It hasn’t been easy. But, the payoff has been immeasurable. I got married to my incredible wife in 2006 because I fell in love with her and wanted to be with her forever. I wanted to intimately know her. It was no longer about me and how I quantified sexual identity or feelings. It was about loving and serving her. Today, we have four very cute children together. They are beautiful gifts to the world. I go to bed each night with peace. Something I never had before. I no longer have to do mental gymnastics to navigate the day’s guilt and shame. God is with me, and I know He is pleased with me, just as I am.

The 18th century theologian and evangelist, John Wesley, asked his mother to define “sin.” She replied:  “Take this rule. Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes off your relish of spiritual things ... that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.”

Sheryl Crow told us that anything that makes us happy can’t be bad while also wondering why those who follow that counsel are “so sad.” Jesus offers something more potent than self-gratification. He offers that we be known by Him. Redeemed by His blood. Freed from bondage to sin. That we become joint heirs with Him. Seated with Him. New creations in Him.  Transformed by the renewing of our minds. Raised to walk in newness of life. Free today, joyful for eternity!

Jesus is the One who “makes us happy,” and, in Him, we don’t have to be “so sad.” 

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Ken Williams is an author, lecturer, and licensed pastor who journeyed out of homosexuality. He is co-founder of CHANGED Movement, which protects biblical family values, responds to LGBTQ with understanding and action, and equips churches and government leaders to do the same. Ken lives in California with his wife and their four incredible children.
CHANGEDmovement.com