Now when He had said these things, He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Loose him, and let him go.” — John 11:43-44 NKJV
Living Two Identities
For the first twenty-two years of my life, I lived two identities. One was that of the good-at-everything-he-tried golden child and the other was that of a boy who struggled with same-sex attraction. The reason for my struggle was simple. I had believed a lie from the enemy of God that told me I was different than other boys…that I was more like a girl.
My emotions ruled what I thought of myself. I was highly creative, loved drawing, and loved playing the piano. My emotional awareness—sensitivity to the feelings of those around me—gave others around me the impression I was more feminine than masculine. When someone cried, I would cry. When someone hurt, I understood their pain and sympathized with them. When someone’s mood was joyful, I was joyful. You get the idea.
Another contributing factor to the thoughts I formed concerning my identity came when I was five years old and an adult male exposed himself to me in a public restroom and tried to coax me into a sexual act. Having absolutely no framework of reference from which to understand what had just happened, my first thought was to run and tell my mom of my experience. As I ran, several thoughts began to course through my mind. “Why did that man want me to touch him? What about me made him think I would want to do such a thing? What is wrong with me?” You may think a five-year-old would never think such thoughts…but that is exactly what I thought—and I have never forgotten.
With that as the foundation of my perspective of myself, the years from my days in junior high all the way through high school and beyond were fraught with recollections of the other boys calling me ‘sissy’ and ‘faggot’ and ‘queer’. It was not until my high school years that I found out what those words actually meant. All I could think about myself when I was a young boy was that the other boys do not see me as a real boy. They see something I cannot. I am something ‘other’. Different.
My only recourse was to keep to myself. Being alone was better than being mocked and beaten. The more I retreated inwardly, the stronger my skewed perception of myself became. This inward life was kept hidden the more I realized that if I performed well, others—especially the adults around me—would see me as something more than I thought I could actually be. I excelled scholastically. I excelled artistically. I excelled musically. I excelled at sports.
By the time I was ten years old, I was already a church pianist at our local church. I could not read music but could play anything I heard. By the time I was in ninth grade, I was the starting point guard on the high school basketball team, playing in three state championship tournaments by the time I was a senior. Being the only white player on my team, I was also teased for having only African American friends by most of the white guys in my school. My black friends would protect me when others threatened to bully me…but it was like having yet one more target on my back. As I look back, I see how God was using such circumstances to let me know He was there watching over me. I just did not have eyes to see or ears to hear with at that time.
My mind was clothed in fear…
In my mind, the better I performed, the more adults liked me and affirmed me and lavished praise upon me. My identity was based exclusively upon the way I performed. My mood corresponded with the level of my performance. If I performed well, I felt good. If my performance was sub-par, I felt depressed and anxious. Life was honestly like a never-ending roller coaster of emotions for me. Perform well. Up. Perform poorly. Down.
I graduated as valedictorian of my high school and headed to a Christian university to study music. Before you think the valedictorian thing was a big deal you need to know something. There were only 12 people in my graduating class! It was still a big deal to me and only served to solidify my belief that my worth was based on my performance.
My mind was clothed in the need to perform to be accepted…
When I arrived at the university, I was placed in the top theory class based solely on my ability to hear something and then play it instantly on the piano. My recollection of that first year in music theory could be likened to an American who spoke only English being plopped down in the middle of a class that spoke only Chinese! Of course, I sat on the back row and hoped to never be called on in class!
During my first month at college, I decided I would major in songwriting, so I went to the head of the Theory and Composition Department and declared my major. The response from that professor went something like this. “Mr. Jernigan, we have only a few openings in this department and we reserve those openings for those we see song-writing potential in. We do not see that potential in you.”
I was crushed, but became more determined than ever to, once again, let my performance define me. I spent literally hundreds of hours practicing piano and vocal performance and composition in the music practice hall. Putting tremendous pressure on myself to prove my worth only served to heighten my belief that I was different than other guys. That I did not measure up. That I was something less than a man.
During my senior year, my sexual identity issues only exacerbated my need for approval and affirmation through my performance. It also became very apparent to me that there were others like me…and this led to sexual sin. Sexual sin led to feelings of utter shame. Shame led to greater pressures to perform well so no one would discover the façade I had created on the outside. My senior year was full of desperation. I remember begging God to change me…to send someone to help me.
My mind was clothed in shame—that I was a mistake…
One day as I walked across campus, someone called out my name. Turning to see who it was, I was dumbfounded to see a well-respected Christian leader of the community calling to me. He simply said, “I’ve been watching you and want you to know I see so much potential in you. If there is ever anything I can do to help, let me know. I can help you with your studies. I can pray for you. I am available just to talk if you need me. Just let me know.”
I was so excited! God had actually answered my prayer! For several weeks, this man would come to campus and pick me up and take me to a local diner for a coke and a talk. I felt so valued and so ‘seen’. After only a few weeks, I told him I needed to talk about a hurtful area of my life. He took me to a private location and sat me down and said, “You can tell me anything. There is nothing you can tell me that would keep me from loving you, son.”
So, I told him of my lifelong struggle with same-sex attraction. It felt so good to finally share that burden. I recall feeling as if the entire weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. And then…he made a sexual advance on me…
I left that encounter feeling betrayed, used, and worthless. This led to a suicide attempt that I backed out of at the last second. It was after that last ‘talk’ that I surrendered to same-sex attraction as my identity and determined I would find a way to live my life in the shadows.
Long story made short, in my devastated condition, I graduated college in the spring of 1981 and found a job driving a school bus for a local school district while living with a college friend and his mother.
I felt dead inside…like Lazarus. I felt bound by the grave clothes of sin. I was in need of resurrection.
From Death to Life
That resurrection occurred on November 7, 1981 when I attended a Christian rock concert by the band 2nd Chapter of Acts. During that concert, the lead singer stopped after a few songs and said something that radically changed my life. She said, “The Holy Spirit has shown me there is someone here who has gone through things in their life they would be horrified if they thought anyone knew about…but Father wants me to tell you He sees the things you think you hide…and He loves you anyway.” Going on she said, “We’re going to sing another song. While we sing, place those hidden things—those hurts, those failures, those moments of shame—in your hands and, by faith, lift them to Jesus and place them on His shoulders.”
They began to sing. I placed my hidden sin and shame and wounds upon Jesus and sobbed like a baby. I had thought my entire life that same-sex attraction was too vile for Jesus to take upon the cross…but here He was, taking it from me. I vividly recall ‘hearing’ the voice of my heavenly Father say these words:
“Dennis Jernigan, come forth. Leave the old you in the grave. He is dead now. Leave Him buried. Walk with me and I will show you how to be free.”
People often ask me if my deliverance was instant or a process. The answer is ‘yes’ to both! In an instant, I was born again. The process looks like the process of Lazarus when Jesus called Him forth from the dead.
Since 1981, I have simply walked toward Jesus and allowed Him and others to loose the grave clothes from my mind. The grave clothes are any of the lies I had believed about myself through the years. He replaced them with the covering of His Word! I was alive to God in Christ but I was not fully free yet. Through the years, I have simply walked with Jesus while He and other faithful men and women have pointed out the grave clothes I had been wearing. He ripped away the grave clothes of anger and revealed a heart of peace He had planted in my brand new heart. He ripped away the grave clothes of shame and revealed a heart wiped clean and bathed in perfect love.
As the old grave clothes were ripped from my mind, I began to see that I was actually clothed in the righteousness of God. I no longer perform to earn acceptance or love. I perform BECAUSE I am accepted and because I am loved.
Redeeming love looks good on me.
