“I used to be a lesbian.” In Gay Girl, Good God, author Jackie Hill Perry shares her own story, offering practical tools that helped her in the process of finding wholeness. Jackie grew up fatherless and experienced gender confusion. She embraced masculinity and homosexuality with every fiber of her being. She knew that Christians had a lot to say about all of the above. But was she supposed to change herself? How was she supposed to stop loving women, when homosexuality felt more natural to her than heterosexuality ever could? At age nineteen, Jackie came face-to-face with what it meant to be made new. And not in a church, or through contact with Christians. God broke in and turned her heart toward Him right in her own bedroom in light of His gospel. Read in order to understand. Read in order to hope. Or read in order, like Jackie, to be made new.
|Publisher:||B&H Publishing Group|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.60(d)|
|Age Range:||3 Months to 18 Years|
About the Author
Jackie Hill Perry is a writer, poet, and artist whose work has been featured on the Washington Times, The 700 Club, Desiring God, The Gospel Coalition, and other publications. Since becoming a Christian in 2008, she has been compelled to use her speaking and teaching gifts to share the light of the gospel of God as authentically as she can. At home she is a wife to Preston and Mommy to Eden and Autumn.
Read an Excerpt
JACKIE, YOU WANNA BE my girlfriend?" she asked me, squinting like she knew her question might be offensive.
I'd seen her before. Back in middle school, she was one of the few who didn't hide their lesbianism in hallways, classrooms, or wherever else conversations were held. If you knew anything about her family, you knew those hips belonged to her mama. She wore her identity with a smile, a smile that sat on top of her skin, skin that looked like bronze that had sat in the sun too long. I noticed it and the body she constantly called attention to.
It was the high school dance, and we were both standing in the middle of the gym floor turned dance hall. On one side, near the entrance, you could see a group of girls too popular for kindness. They laughed like everything was an inside joke and watched all who walked past for the sole purpose of making fun of what they saw. Across from them, underneath the glare of swirling party lights were last year's homecoming king, and all the other boys whom girls flocked to dance in front of. They were hoping that one of the boys would detach himself from his clique and ask one of them for their phone number. If she was pretty enough, he might even remember her name when he called. But for now, the boys loved the feeling of having their ego lifted on a Saturday night.
We stood in the middle of the room. I could tell she was growing impatient. I hadn't answered her question yet or even let my body tell her what my mouth wanted to say. All I could think about was Monday, and what it would have in store for me if I said "yes" to her invitation. The news wouldn't walk but run toward every ear and fly out of every mouth that heard it — until the school no longer saw me as the girl that had a smart mouth and a timid frame but as, "The gay girl."
They'd say my name like it was contagious. Like what I was would rub off on their skin, crawl inside of their little heterosexual hearts, and meddle with it until they ended up just as "sick" as I was.
I thought about the violent ones the most. They came from the same breed as the popular girls in the corner. It was a gift of theirs to use words as weapons and never discard them even if it killed everyone they spoke to. Gay slurs were their favorites. They concealed and carried them everywhere they went. Unloading one wouldn't be a challenge. I saw her face and Iheard the sound of a pistol being loaded. She was still waiting, intrigued by my silence. I thought I could hear bullets ricochet off the floor and tell me to be quiet.
"Girl, don't play with me like that! I ain't gay." I sounded so straight. On purpose. I'd come to the homecoming dance to take part in the traditional teenage revelry that these nights were made for. My clothes, purchased with twenty hours of weekend work, were put on to draw attention to me, but she was after more than I was willing to pay. She wanted me, and probably expected me, to take her up on her offer. But to me, that would've been no different than unclothing in front of a crowd. I was not willing to undress my secrets in front of her or anybody else for that matter. For now, I was okay with the fantasy of being honest. At least I knew it would keep me warm.CHAPTER 2
6,000 BC–AD 1995
I WAS ATTRACTED TO women before I knew how to spell my name. My mama had given it to me. She thought it sounded dignified. Like a spine unwilling to bend. She'd heard it often in her younger days every time John F. Kennedy's wife was mentioned in the news. As for me, in second grade, I didn't know who the 35th president had been or what wife he'd let stand beside him as he waved to the world. All I knew was that our name had too many letters in it, and that my teeth had a small gap in it, reasons for which my ancestors were to blame, and that — according to my teacher — I asked too many questions.
When I looked at the sky, I didn't understand why it wasn't the color of my hands, instead of looking like my teacher's eyes. And why that one girl, who sat two desks over, made me feel weird. Or why my heart moved whenever she did. Or how, during recess, we'd end up in the corner of a Fisher-Price cabin, doing things we'd never seen, making sure our doing so remained as such.
The roof reminded me of a crayon — the green kind that you brought out of the box only when you needed to draw grass. The cabin itself was a boring version of brown, with the only excitement being the bright mustard yellow shutters that framed the plastic window cutouts we kept closed while inside. Without being taught to, we hid ourselves. Somehow, our minds carried rules that our hearts knew we were breaking. My mama was at work and when she thought about me, she probably envisioned my not-yet-guarded eyes, full of glee as it ran across the jungle gym like a brand-new lion dressed in a red shirt and blue jean shorts. With hair, dark and thick as my father's pride, swinging in the wind, until it was time to go back to class and learn how to write. She didn't know I was learning other things. And how what I was feeling hadn't told me its name yet. All I knew was, I had to keep it to myself. Parents can't help but pass down things to their children. Every time I stood next to my mama, some joke we could both catch on to got ahold of our mouths — it would crack open and let a laugh out. Behind it, you'd see that gap and know we were related. That she'd given me, what had been hers all of her life, only because I was born wearing her genes.
Way before my mama had a mouth to smile with, or her mama had hands to clean collard greens (hands that came from a woman who had a slave's eyes, a stolen African's cheekbones, and a European's last name) — there were the two people to see God's face first. Adam and Eve looked much different back then. I'm sure they stood as tall and as strong as God had intended, with almost glorious skin, just like the baby they never had to be. But how they looked had more to do with whom they reflected than how attractive they might've been. When made, their bodies and their souls were unblemished — clean, almost glass-like through which to see their Creator. He couldn't be compared to anything other than Himself, nor easily described by the things He'd made. Words like gorgeous, amazing, wonderful, or breathtaking are easy, borderline lazy when used to describe the Holy One.
If, over coffee, we could ask Adam what word came to his mind the moment after he exhaled and saw God for the first time, he'd probably say, "Good. I saw Him and knew He was good." Somebody who'd been born after Adam would most likely say under their breath, as not to seem irreverent, "Good? That's the best word he could come up with to describe God? Heck, even I'm good." The doubt whispered was the familiar smile, the identical eyes, the matching cheekbones, and the busy hands. And it was Adam, and not God, that had passed that down to us all.
It all started after Adam's wife, Eve, who had been made from a rib in his side, started having conversations with one of the animals her husband had named. The serpent, as Adam determined it should be called, was slick. He had the kind of character that an elderly woman, who'd been burned twice and never again, would sniff out as soon as it walked in the room. It's not mentioned if, when the serpent approached Eve, he had the decency to introduce himself. Telling her his name might've confused her or worse, given her the chance to ask him where he'd come from. Adam named it serpent, but the one speaking was known by every demon in hell as Satan. Being smarter than that, he stuck to asking only questions first. They could save the "getting to know you" portion for later.
Not being one for small talk, he went straight to questioning her about something God told her husband a little after He made him. God, after making the heavens, the earth, and everything in it, put Adam in Eden's garden. What surrounded Adam were trees, and lots of them — all pleasant to look at and good to eat from. In the middle, there was one that wasn't any more spectacular than the rest, but just as beautiful as them all, named "The tree of the knowledge of good and evil." Adam was told that all of the trees were his to enjoy. Seeing that God Himself planted them for his delight, they would produce the best fruit he'd ever taste. Every bite would remind him of the goodness he'd seen the day he came alive. However, to bite from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil would kill him. God told him that would be the case and as holiness would have it, He wasn't lying when He said it.
As a child, I might've needed to learn how to write. Or how to put nine letters together and spin them into my first name, but nobody had to teach me about joy. I came out of the womb already built to take it in. The first sip of milk clashed against my newborn taste buds before it fell into my brand-new belly. As it did, I was not only satisfied by being full but by experiencing the taste of food. A small smile grew from within because of it. Growing older, I found other joys such as friends, cartoons, sleepovers, carnivals, hugs, toys, Snickers, Christmas morning, and laughter. God's goodness spread out through all that He'd made, including me, giving me the capacity to enjoy image-bearers and what their hands created. Joy has never been the problem. It was our hearts that bent us away from finding our ultimate enjoyment in Who'd made us, which crippled how, what, and who we got joy from.
Back in the garden with Eve, the serpent starting speaking:
"Did God actually say, 'You shall not eat of any tree in the garden'?" And the woman said to the serpent, "We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, 'You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.'" But the serpent said to the woman, "You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths. (Genesis 3:1–7)
What the devil had in mind when he picked Eve's brain was not necessarily a matter of wondering what answer she'd give. It wasn't even the question itself that she should've been weary of, it was the way in which it began. "Did God actually say ..." Or to be said another way "Was God telling the truth?" The question was a subtle indictment on the character of God in which, if believed, would draw Eve away from seeing Him rightly. A lying God couldn't be trusted, let alone worshiped. He'd only say things He didn't really mean or make claims He'd never be able to fulfill.
Satan then tells her, after she fails to rebuke, that God is more like the devil than she might've known. By promising her immortality even after disobedience (though God had warned death), Satan was framing God as a liar, and himself as the bearer of truth — that God's Word was as fickle as a promise in the mouth of a con artist. He promised that she'd be able to sin and still remain alive. That God's holiness, and goodness, and glory, were all a sham. Only to be fully discovered by doing what He commanded she shouldn't.
Eve looked. The tree still stood. Before, it might've only been a part of the garden that caught her eye on rare occasions. Only to be overshadowed by all the glory God turned loose around it. It had always been forbidden to eat from, but never to touch. But, there were always better things to do, and eat, and touch, and sit on, and delight in, and live with. One tree being off limits was the least of their worries when they could see God every day. Until doubt came.
I imagine the tree looked different then. The fruit hung beneath their own branch, loose enough for the wind to move through each one. She noticed them and thought of her next meal. How they'd taste good on her plate, even if it meant she might not live to see the next chew. One blink later, her eyes saw how gorgeous the tree was. How it looked like God, only better, she thought. She remembered what the serpent had said about God, and how the tree would make her like Him. She figured fruit and not faith, sin and not obedience, would give her the wisdom she needed to be more perfect than she already was. Interestingly enough, some of what she saw was true. The tree was indeed good for food and pleasant to the sight; God had made it that way (Genesis 2:9). The deception was in believing that the tree was more satisfying to the body and more pleasurable to the sight than God. All of the wisdom she thought the tree could provide left her body the moment she did something foolish: Believe the devil.
To me, the devil made more sense than God sometimes. Both he and God spoke. God, through His Scriptures; Satan, through doubt. I'd learned of the Ten Commandments in Sunday school in between eating a handful of homemade popcorn and picking at my stockings. The "Thou shall nots" didn't complement the sweet buttered chew I found myself distracted by. They were a noise I didn't care to welcome. "You can't. You shouldn't. Do not," didn't sound like a song worth listening to, only a terrible noise to drown out by resistance. Satan, on the other hand, only told me to do what felt good, or what made sense to me. If lying allowed me to keep the belt in my mama's hand from tearing my behind in two, then lying was a good thing. I defined goodness on my own terms. It wore whatever definition I decided it should have on for the day. God had indeed been the original one to introduce the concept of goodness into the earth but for me to live in His kind of goodness, faith was required. All that He said was good was good because He was. Including all that He'd commanded me not to do, for He knew that the cruelest thing He could ever do was to not tell me and everyone alive to avoid what would keep us from Him.
Yet, unbelief doesn't see God as the ultimate good. So it can't see sin as the ultimate evil. It instead sees sin as a good thing and thus God's commands as a stumbling block to joy. In believing the devil, I didn't need a pentagram pendant to wear, neither did I need to memorize a hex or two. All I had to do was trust myself more than God's Word. I had to believe that my thoughts, my affections, my rights, my wishes, were worthy of absolute obedience and that in laying prostrate before the flimsy throne I'd made for myself, that I'd be doing a good thing.
After Adam (who'd been standing there with the wife he failed to protect from the serpent) ate from the tree, they died. Their bodies still stood, warm blood still pumped through their veins, eyes still let the light in. But what God said would come from disobedience, happened. Their refusal to trust Him over and above their inordinate affections, their distorted logic, and their desire for autonomy rendered them no longer friends of God but enemies. His holiness was actual. His judgment was real. And their knowledge of sin was now not just intellectual, but experiential.
Sin, when in the body, cannot not stay put. It's not a guest that stays in one room, making sure not to disturb the others. It is a tenant that lives in everything and goes everywhere. It can bleed into every part, choking out anything holy. The glass shattered and broke when it moved in. Adam and Eve, God's first image-bearers, made to love and reflect God in creation, had now become the world's first sinners.
Everyone born after Adam inherited it. And, just like Eve, I from birth, would experience the remnants of her dealings with the serpent. Being born human meant that I had the capacity for affection and logic. Being born sinful meant both were inherently broken. The unnamed attraction I felt at an elemental level only highlighted how greedy sin can be. Desires exist because God gave them to us. But homosexual desires exist because sin does. Loving Him, as we were created to do, involves both the will and the affections, but sin steals this love God placed in us for Himself and tells it to go elsewhere. Sin had taken ahold of the heart and turned it toward something lesser. Same-sex desires are actual. Though born of sin, they aren't an imaginary feeling one conjures up for the sake of being different. But the actuality of the affection doesn't make them morally justifiable. It is the mind, when conformed to the image of sin, that moves us to call evil good simply because it feels good to us.
Just as Eve let her body tell her what she should do with it, instead of God's Word, which would've reminded her of what it was made for, I was inevitably prone to the same kind of unbelief. The one in which sin seemed better than submission. Or where women, who are beautifully and wonderfully made, just as the tree had been, would be more beautiful and more wonderful than I considered God to be.(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Gay Girl, Good God"
Copyright © 2018 Jackie Hill Perry.
Excerpted by permission of B&H Publishing Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
PART 1 — Who I Was,
Chapter 1: 2006,
Chapter 2: 6,000 BC–AD 1995,
Chapter 3: 1988,
Chapter 4: 1989–2007,
Chapter 5: 2006,
Chapter 6: 2007,
Chapter 7: 2007,
Chapter 8: 2008,
PART 2 — Who I Became,
Chapter 9: 2008,
Chapter 10: 2008,
Chapter 11: 2008–2014,
Chapter 12: 2009–2014,
Chapter 13: 2013–2014,
PART 3 — Same-Sex Attraction AND ...,
Chapter 15: Same-Sex Attraction and Identity,
Chapter 16: Same-Sex Attraction and Endurance,
Chapter 17: Same-Sex Attraction and the Heterosexual Gospel,
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
“I used to be a lesbian.” This book is life-changing. You can’t read it and not see the power of God. Author Jackie Hill Perry shares her personal story of the transformative power of the Gospel and how it impacted her life. She grew up without a father, and throughout life felt more comfortable in the homosexual community than anywhere else. She completely accepted her life of more masculinity than femininity, and identified herself as a lesbian. But then God got a hold of her heart. She wasn’t in a church, she wasn’t being beat over the head with a Bible. God met her right where she was and spoke love and life over her. This book is one of the most amazing books I’ve ever read. It had truth, grit, realness, and vulnerability. It spoke to a cultural topic we all are facing. Jackie has accepted that her story is unique and on that God can use to change countless hearts for his glory. And all she has to do is share her story. Read it. Trust me. You won’t be the same afterwards. In the best way possible. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest view. All opinions are honest and my own.
I picked up this book more out of curiosity then anything. I ended up reading it for revelation. This book was hard for me to read, not because I dealt the same-sex attraction, quite the opposite, I have dealt with opposite-sex lust. Even though the way we (Jackie and I) expressed our sin was different the feelings are the same. As I read her description of choosing sin I couldn’t believe how it described me and I choice sin. The feelings, the “freedom”, I felt the same way. Jackie definitely has a gift with words and the revelation God has given her in relating this subject to others. This book is powerful in truth and wisdom. Even if you don’t struggle with sexual sin we all struggle with a sin and I am seeing now the pulled, the desires might be and feel the same for us all. I don’t have enough time to write about everything I loved about this book, but it is worth the read, and it is a quick one too. A copy of this book was given to me through Netgalley.com. All opinions are my own.
It not only made me see things through a different light; it taught me about sin in general and how to break free. A must read, but to be read with an open heart and a desire to learn.
Review My first encounter with Jackie Hill Perry was trough Beautiful Eulogy, and through her own music, which you should listen if you want to hear something good. I was later when I found out about her personal testimony about being gay in the past. Finally, in Gay Girl, Good God her personal story is out for everyone to read it, but more than that, to be inspired by her process and transformation into a daughter of God. Perry is crystal clear in her journey, from her early years and into her young days when she struggled with his lifestyle but most importantly when she felt the pursuit of God for her life. Most of the book is divided into chapters titled by the years when specific events happened and are written as if you were reading Perry’s journal with some comments and principles here and there. This can be good for those who don’t like to read theology books and bad for those that didn’t expect this style. Finally, the last chapters are structured to explain common misconceptions from the church and Christians about the gay lifestyle and how we can be more effective when sharing God’s love. Conclusion Gay Girl, Good God is a great book and it’s a perfect opportunity to learn and to be inspired by a true story about God’s love and power. I received this book from B&H Publishing Group in exchange for this review. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
“This work is my worship unto God that, with prayer, I hope will leave you saying, God is so good!” – Jackie Hill Perry I, for one, can say that Perry has succeeded in her goal. After concluding this book, I did hear the testimony presented in the court of my inmost being that ‘God is so good’. Indeed, he is good. His mercy endures forever. Gay Girl, Good God is one of those books that is not easy to put down. Jackie Hill Perry doxologically narrates her own story, which is filled with heart-aching yet God-glorifying content. Perry had a very dark childhood, to say the least. She was molested at a very young age. As an unplanned baby, her father didn’t really love or care about her. When age dawned on her, while other girls were attracted to boys, she felt strangely attracted to the same sex and… I don’t want to spoil this beautifully written story for you, so to know about God’s work in her life, read the book. But this much I can say: this story is multifaceted like a diamond. It plunges the depths of Biblical theology. Perry, who is a poet, employees word-pictures masterfully to paint scenes, evoke emotions, and stir feelings. The author excels in wordsmithery. Like a skillful tour guide, she takes her readers to every important corner of her life. This is not a dead story but is full of heartfelt reflections which I suspect will help many people to understand SSA persons better. Also, this pleasurable read manifests a gentle apologetic, warm evangelistic and robust pastoral edge. That is to say, locked in the pages of this book are floods of insight. The only potential weakness of this book is several typos. But that shouldn’t be used as a motivation not to read this wisdom-filled and heartwarming book. I thank B&H Publishing Group for providing me with a complementary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is Jackie Hill Perry’s story. But it’s not just her story. It’s the story of how sin affects us all and how desperately we need Jesus Christ. Mrs. Perry’s childhood was not an easy one and it definitely affected her negatively. Aside from that though, she was born with a sinful nature just like the rest of us. As much as we may try to ignore it we’re all sinful and desperately in need of a savior. Perry’s teen/young adult years were filled with lesbianism. Even after she came to Jesus she still struggled with SSA and the consequences of her past sins. It’s only with God’s help that she had the strength to break up with her long-term girlfriend, make drastic lifestyle changes and leave the LGBT community she’d grown so comfortable in. Through all the pain and bad choices in her earlier life God still had a plan for her. Now at age 29 she’s a wife to a Christian man and a mother who uses her story to encourage others and spread the gospel. I, personally, went into this book in hopes of understanding LGBT people I know better and learning how to shine Jesus’ light to them. I didn’t realize that in addition to that I’d find so much in her story about our sinful nature as humans and God’s goodness to apply to my own life. The bottom line is that whether we’re gay or straight we’re all sinful and in desperate need of God’s mercy. When Perry came to Christ her eyes were opened to not only lesbianism being a sin she struggled with, but also her pride and selfishness. Just ‘going straight’ wouldn’t have fixed her ‘problems’. She needed Jesus. Just like we all do. I highly recommend this book to older teens and adults, whether they’re Christian or even secular. Read this if you’re interested in what makes Jackie Hill Perry’s story remarkable. (Spoiler alert: It’s God’s goodness. The same goodness he shows to all of us.)
I would recommend this book to any and every girl 13+ The author tells her story not so much chronologically as by topic. The point here isn't to craft a suspenseful thriller, but an insightful real-life account. What strikes me most about this book is the honesty. You'll hear about the "rawness" of this and that book, but this is blatantly, unconditionally honest. Read it. Now.
I picked up Gay Girl, Good God and read it in about one day. While it was a quick read for me, it was still a book of depth. Mostly, it is about Perry's life - from discovering she was gay at an early age, through her life experiences and ultimately how she discovered the overwhelming love of God and it changed her life drastically. Through an amazing encounter with God, Perry becomes a Christian and is ultimately able to leave behind a life of lesbianism and engage in a heterosexual relationship. I learned a lot from reading Perry's book. But I also struggled a bit in places with the fluidity of the reading. Perry has a background as a spoken word poet, and that definitely carried over into her writing in this book. For me, there were several instances where I had to reread paragraphs until I caught the flow of words so that I could understand what she was saying. I found Perry's approach to such a large topic to be open and honest. It wasn't one that picked sides, but sought to engage in conversation and provide context for all sides of the discussion. I received a copy of this book from the publisher. This review is my own, honest opinion.
This is a good book about a girl who was a lesbian and found Christ. That did not cure her of her homosexuality, she had to learn to die to self and love only Christ. There is a lot of theology and Scripture in this book. Same-sex attraction is an addition that is very difficult to overcome. I appreciate the fact that she does not blame her homosexuality on her father’s rejection and absence and molestation as a girl. She blames it on sin. Understanding God and His love for us is the key to her success. She discusses the common beliefs of Christians and how they relate to Scripture. At the end of the book, she gives practical help on the identity of same-sex attracted people, enduring the trials that come and the constant dying to self, and the heterosexual gospel. This is a great book to help anyone who is homosexual, but also to help Christians who are not, to understand what it is about and what Scripture says so we can help those who are. Christians sometimes have misconceptions about homosexuality and this book helps in understanding that. Although Jackie did get married in a heterosexual relationship, that is not the end-all for homosexuals. She explains how God calls some to singleness and how that can be a blessing, too. This is a great book, and I again encourage “straight” Christians as well as homosexuals to read it. (Please Note: Although this book was provided to me by B&H and Lifeway to review, the opinions expressed are my own.)
Jackie Hill Perry is a hip-hop artist and poet. I first heard about her when I saw a trailer for the documentary American Gospel. I then rediscovered her when I got into Christian hip-hop and heard Beautiful Eulogy’s song Organized Religion. After that, I looked her up on YouTube, saw her testimony, and started following her on social media. This book is broken into three parts, and it is completely saturated in the gospel from beginning to end. Part 1 is titled “Who I Was”. Jackie talks about how she knew she was same-sex attracted (SSA) before she knew how to spell her name, her father abandoning her, being molested, and getting her first girlfriend. There are no details of what happened to her, but please read with caution (I believe it was in chapter four) if this is a topic that triggers you. Part 2 is “Who I Became”. This part covers struggling with her attraction to a girl the day after she was saved, moving to LA from St. Louis, meeting (and hurting) her husband Preston, and fighting her sin with the gospel. Jackie said that she wishes more Christians would have told her about beauty of God rather than the horrors of hell. This reminded me of some things Rosaria Butterfield (also a former lesbian) has said in interviews. Rosaria Butterfield said in Joyfully Spreading the Word that too many Christians focus on someone’s sexuality instead the sin of unbelief. If we know what we are calling people from, but do not have anything to call people to, we are only sharing half of the gospel. I don’t know if Jackie Hill Perry and Rosaria Butterfield know each other or not. If they do, I really want to see a collab! Part 3 is “Same-Sex Attraction and…”, this part talks identity, endurance, and the “heterosexual gospel”. In this last part, Jackie covers some topics that help those with SSA. She reminds us that you are not your sin, singleness isn’t a curse, we are not made for sex, and that we are made for God and his glory. There are lots of verses in this part, and lots of gospel truth. *I received a free copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.