God's Tears 

André Rocheleau

I began having homosexual encounters a bit before I was 13 and was healed of my addiction to it a few weeks shy of my 21 birthday. My story is different from most in that I was not same sex attracted. It is not all that uncommon for young boys to experiment with homosexual behaviour; unfortunately I became addicted, trapped in web of my own making.

This is how I got out: When studying in CEGEP I was confronted with many teachers who ridiculed the Christian faith. Though I was less than fully committed in my faith, I had none the less grown up in a very devout home. I made a decision in my third semester to find out whether or not the Christian faith was the biggest joke running, or if Jesus was indeed “The way, The truth and The life.” I estimate that I did about 240 hours of reading. I examined the main objections people raise against the Christian faith. This was my discovery. There is every reason to believe that the Bible is the Word of God; that Jesus Christ arose from the grave, just as the Bible says. Having reached this conclusion, I had to face the issue of my lifestyle.

One night, I took a concordance and my Bible. I looked up every reference to homosexuality. Having read all that I could find in the bible about it, I sat on the edge of my bed and began talking to God. “I know what it says, I said “and I don’t care, I’m not sorry.” It was true. Intellectually I was prepared to accept what the bible had to say; that a righteous Holy God MUST judge sin. The bible said homosexuality was sin, and the just sentence of a just God was death. I also knew from years of attendance at church that there was a way out. Jesus died to save us from our sins. If anyone turned to him in faith and repentance, then he would forgive them their sins and cleanse them from all unrighteousness. For those who would receive Him, His death on the cross was the payment for sins.

This fact was what prompted what I said next. “I know what you require of me, I’m supposed to repent; how can I repent if I don’t even feel sorry.” I hesitated, considering.  Emotionally I felt empty. My heart was as hard as stone. I had committed over 600 homosexual acts; my conscience was completely seared. I couldn’t have turned if I had wanted to, and I didn’t want to.

Humanly speaking, I was beyond help. I hesitated over how I felt, emotionally, and what I knew intellectually. I chose. I sent this last thought out to God. “Help me to feel sorry” I sat there in silence, would God answer? I really didn’t know. I had spit in his face, again and again by choosing to do what felt good rather than what was right. Silence. Nothing was happening. “I’m wasting my time”, I thought, “I should just lie down and go to sleep,” but then something DID happen. I felt grief entering me, I could feel it flowing in through the top of my head. The grief went from a trickle, to gushing like a faucet wide open, to the roar of a fire hydrant, in a matter of seconds. I fell to my knees from off of the edge of my bed. The grief was at this point almost overwhelming. Leaning on my arms I managed to choke out 5 simple words. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” And at that moment I was completely overwhelmed with grief. My arms gave out and I fell forward, my face smashing to the floor. I lay there and howled in emotional pain. Tears of remorse streamed from my eyes, my body was wracked with huge sobs of anguish unlike any I had ever felt before or since. 

My father had died suddenly in a car accident when I was 14; even that terrible pain was as nothing compared to this pain. It grew until I became afraid. It was so overpowering that I couldn’t take it. “I’m going to die, I’m going to die!” I thought. But God is merciful. When He poured His own tears into me it wasn’t his plan to kill me, but to heal me. When I rose up from the floor of my room, I was healed of my addiction.