“I think I’m gay.”

The young man said with a trembling bottom lip. He hung his head in shame for a moment and then glanced up to gauge my reaction. I could tell that he was expecting judgment — maybe even horror —but was so desperately longing for my acceptance in spite of his confession.

My heart broke for him.

I felt simultaneously honored to have been privy to such a confession and burdened with a desire to respond with compassion. So, I told him there was nothing wrong with him, that God still loves him, and that I don’t think any less of him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

It is a strange phenomenon, but often, when we share our struggles with great vulnerability to the right kind of people we are greeted with new levels of respect. That doesn’t lessen the terror that we feel when we make a confession.

The Power of Vulnerability

When the young man’s trembling voice filled the room, I was reminded of the immense power of vulnerability. Vulnerability is often seen as a weakness, a crack in the façade of our carefully constructed selves. But in reality, it is a profound strength. It takes courage to admit our fears, doubts, and struggles, especially when we fear rejection or condemnation.

As a pastor, I’ve been privileged to witness countless moments of vulnerability, where individuals opened their hearts and shared their deepest confessions.

So, today, I want to take you behind the scenes of my former life as a pastor. You see, being a church leader isn’t just about preaching from a pulpit or organizing church events. In fact, that’s a pretty small part of the job. The most important part of being a pastor is being pastoral — it’s about being there for people when they need you the most, ready to listen to struggles and secrets and offer support without judgment.

In my time as a pastor, I had the privilege of hearing countless confessions from people facing all kinds of challenges. These confessions were real, raw, and came from the hearts of individuals who just wanted to be both fully known and fully loved. No two confessions are the same, but here are the five most common things people want to get off their chest. These are the confessions that come up again and again.

Same-Sex Attraction

Since I’ve already alluded to it, let’s start with this one. In my time as a pastor, I probably had 3–4 people every year confess that they “struggle” with same-sex attraction. In evangelical circles, you had to frame it as a “struggle,” of course, because, unfortunately, it was considered a sin.

Each time someone came forward with this confession, I was reminded of the tremendous courage it took to voice such a personal and profound aspect of their identity. In the evangelical community, where traditional beliefs about relationships and sexuality often hold sway, admitting to same-sex attraction was, for many, an admission of what they believed to be a profound moral failing. They were caught between the teachings of their faith and the undeniable truth of their own hearts.

I found that to be one of the biggest tragedies.

Most of these people had begged and pleaded for God to remove their same-sex attraction, viewing it as something dirty and wrong. It was a prayer that God never seemed to answer. So, they carried a heavy burden of guilt, often compounded by the fear of rejection by their faith community and loved ones. In their quest to align with the faith teachings of their upbringing, they sometimes felt as though they were at war with their own nature.

That is why it was always my joy to tell them nothing was wrong with them. Often, the relief they expressed was bodily and tangible. It was almost as though they had been holding their breath for years, waiting for someone to acknowledge their truth and offer them a lifeline of acceptance.

Relationship on the Rocks

I don’t know how often during my time in church, the couple everyone looked up to as an example of marital faithfulness ended up splitting. You just never know what a relationship is like behind closed doors. As a pastor, I was privy to some of these stories, and they were always a stark reminder that appearances can be deceiving.

So many people are surprised to learn that all marriages have conflict. People somehow fall into the trap of believing that the highlight reels of people’s lives that appear on Instagram actually portray reality. They come to believe they are the only ones with relationship problems.

Secret Porn Addict

Perhaps it’s because the church has so demonized human sexuality that confessing to a struggle with pornography is often met with a unique sense of shame. When individuals came to me with this confession, it was often veiled in a thick cloak of guilt.

They believed they were alone in their battle, fighting against an overwhelming tide of temptation. They felt as though they were betraying their faith, their values, and their loved ones. In their minds, they were trapped in a cycle of secrecy and indulgence, unable to break free from the grip of addiction.

The reality was that pornography addiction was so stunningly common that I don’t know why everyone just didn’t own up and then start supporting one another to overcome this insidious temptation. In reality, the battle is half won simply in the act of confession itself.

The Brown Paper Bag

I remember when a fourteen-year-old in my youth group told me that he felt terrible for stealing whisky from his Dad’s liquor cabinet and drinking it — virtually on a daily basis.

He wasn’t the only one.

It was surprisingly common to learn how many people struggle with “the brown paper bag,” returning to it again and again to take the painful edge off life, if only for a few minutes at a time. Many of these people were, surprisingly, wives and mothers stuck in a repetitive and soul-destroying cycle of shouldering the heavy responsibilities of their families and households. Of course, it was shameful to admit such an addiction in church.

But, to be honest, I’m not sure why. In reality, excessive drinking is a symptom — it’s someone’s way of coping.

I’m Not Sure I Believe in God

Lastly, many people have come with confessions that shook the very foundation of their faith: “I’m not sure I believe in God.”

I have seen the Church systematically shunning and shaming people who expressed these doubts. I have had the first-hand experience of church leaders actively encouraging congregants to cut off people who had walked away, warning them of the potential negative influence they might have.

As for me, I am encouraged whenever someone comes to me to confess their doubts. Why? Because doubt is an essential part of faith. Think about it: If we never ask genuine and serious questions about our faith, how can we possibly trust it? Or, to put it another way, how can faith be proved genuine unless it is genuinely tested?

So, when someone comes to me and says, “I’m not sure whether or not I believe in God anymore,” I always reply, “Wonderful! Now, you are truly ready to find out whether or not he is.”

Confession is good for the soul

I have heard thousands of confessions. I consider it a great honor to be trusted enough by someone that they would choose to bare their soul to you.

There are a few common threads when it comes to confession. Firstly, the person who confesses is almost always terrified that they are about to be rejected because of their hidden “secret.” I mean, why do you think the Catholics do confession in a box or behind a curtain so they can keep their face hidden? This is a legitimate fear. The church ought to be a safe haven for people to share deeply from the well of their pain and struggle, but the truth is, the church, like any community, can be a mixed bag. Yet, there are safe people within every community — individuals who genuinely care and are willing to listen without judgment.

Remember, the people who matter will love you regardless.

Secondly, the person who confesses has often come to believe that their struggle is somehow unique among human beings — like they are the only ones with this particular problem. This, of course, is a lie we tell ourselves to make us continue to keep our struggle to ourselves and, thereby, avoid the prospect of potential rejection. In reality, as Kahlil Gibran says, “If we were all to sit in a circle and confess our sins, we would laugh at each other for lack of originality.”

You’re not alone.

Thirdly, when people come with their confessions, they almost invariable feel as though they have somehow failed God. Nothing could be further from the truth. Christianity, at its core, should be a refuge for sinners, a place where imperfection is embraced. In fact, it is in working with our imperfections, rather than denying their existence, that we can truly grow in our faith.

A child in a Sunday School class was asked by their teacher, “What do you have to do to be forgiven?”

They expected the child to give the usual pat response: “Put your trust in Jesus Christ.” However, the child wrestled with the question for a few seconds and then thoughtfully responded, “To be forgiven, you must first sin.”

Exactly.

God’s not angry or disappointed with you.

Imperfection is the door through which the grace of God enters. As Leonard Cohen sings in his classic song, ‘Anthem’: “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”