Today’s post was written by the talented TMZ—Thomas Mark Zuniga, I mean, not the celebrity tabloid—as a response to my thoughts on homosexuality. For more wise words and wanderings from Tom, check out his blog and his book, Struggle Central.

When my blogging friend, Adam (or as I’ve long regarded him, “That Monkey Guy”), asked me to contribute a post on homosexuality to his blog, I knew I wanted to write something. I just didn’t know where to start. Homosexuality is, after all, a Pandora’s Box of an issue lined with nettles and littered with landmines.

I really latched onto something Adam wrote recently. He talked about how his convictions and sympathies often seem to oppose each other. Oddly enough, I often find myself in a similar stance regarding homosexuality—though from a more unique, complicating perspective.

You see, it’s been almost a year that I’ve been publicly “out” as a “gay Christian”—or whatever you’d label me. First, I wrote a book, and then I wrote a blog post.

When I initially “came out” on my blog, I wrote that despite my male attractions, I cannot mentally reconcile a homosexual relationship and my walk with Jesus. Given the choice of one or the other, I’ve staked everything on Christ; without Him, I am nothing.

What about other gay people though? What about other gay Christians who don’t do what I do and believe what I believe?

Honestly, I used to feel angry toward other gay people. But I used to feel really angry toward other gay Christians who claimed to pursue Jesus and same-sex partnerships.

Not sad. Not disappointed. Angry. I hated that these particular gay Christians had somehow found this theological “loophole” and were able to reconcile the two while I remained “holy” in my struggles through singleness.

In recent years, however, I’ve been learning the process of not letting my beliefs necessarily dictate my reactions. I know, I’m a horrible Christian, right?

Whether we like it or not, there exist gay people and gay Christians in homosexual relationships. While homosexuals certainly experience discrimination, homosexuality and gay marriage are gradually becoming more normalized, both inside Christianity and out.

Our evolving culture has often left me wondering in this question mark-sized boat:

How do you believe one thing yet still show love and grace toward others—human and spiritual siblings alike—who live quite the opposite?

I suppose my answer hearkens back to something else That Monkey Guy mentioned. Where is the outrage over poverty, homelessness, sex trafficking, child abuse, the failed foster system, and the disheartening list trails on?

Are we naive to think that homosexuality and gay marriage is the biggest “threat” facing America? The world? Is our time really best invested in endless vociferous debates?

As a non-confrontational person, I’ve long been “over” the debate. I’ve already stated what I believe on my blog, and I’m going to leave it at that. Moving forward, I just want to tell my story—my messy, miraculous story.

Contrary to what many naysayers have “advised” me, God has indeed used my conviction on homosexuality for good. He’s introduced me to some of the most solid brothers I could ever know, both online and off. He’s moved me across an entire continent for a fresh new life. He’s given me a voice to speak for the voiceless among whom I lived for over two decades.

I’d have never gained so many of my current blessings were I not attracted to the same sex.

I’m not saying my entire road has been paved with peace, but God has certainly used the apparent “bad” of this conviction for His good. I’m convinced He’s in the business of writing similar redemptive stories for homosexuals and heterosexuals alike.

Since my book’s release, I’ve exchanged numerous conversations with people of all ages on all sides of this contentious issue: young and old and gay and straight and religious and nonreligious. It’s becoming more of a “normal” thing for total strangers to confide in me their sacred sexual secrets. I am touched that people would entrust me with their problems and pain.

I love them all.

And so while my convictions may reside on one side of the homosexuality hotbed, I’m learning to plant my sympathies across both sides. I figure if God wants to convict somebody about his or her sexual proclivities, heterosexual or homosexual, His Spirit is capable. God doesn’t need my blog or my Twitter account to draw people into His arms.

My advice to others struggling at the crossroads of their convictions and sympathies is actually quite simple. Regardless the complicating “issue” at hand, just love people. Open up your phone; open up your home. Treat someone to breakfast, or let them cry into your chest.

Hear their stories. Uncover your similarities and differences alike. Connect. We were wired for love, I’m convinced.

God can handle the homosexuality issue. He is big enough; He can do it.

Let us only handle love.