Prevailing

I love this man! We lost a most excellent leader when he left DSM twelve years ago, but the Antioch Movement gained a thoroughbred. Andrew Franklin leads with truthful exuberance and weakness. He is the first to confess his sin, but he also grapples with needs and wounds beneath the sin. He embodies Living Waters! His story highlights how leaders under pressure can avoid the perils of living divided lives. Clerical corruption ceases when shepherds work the program. Andrew does. You’ll love him like we do.

—Andrew Comiskey

I first found Living Waters soon after Jesus found me. At the time, I was twenty-three years old and stumbling out of some very chaotic, gay-identified, drug-and-alcohol-fueled years. I needed help figuring out the ramifications of my newfound Christian faith on my sexual confusion and addiction. I had believed my two options were a kill-my-flesh morality, or a feed-my-flesh revelry, and I was hungry for something better.

I emerged from Living Waters blown away by mercy. Jesus had given me compassion where I deserved judgment, clarity where I had been drowning in confusion, and hope that, in spite of all my failures, Jesus could form me into an integrated man. A healthy friend. A gift to the Church. Maybe even a trustworthy counterpart to a woman.

Key to this process was God meeting me in the wounds resulting from my dad’s depression and eventual suicide. As I learned to allow God to father me in a way that gave me the affection, protection, and blessing I hungered for, I was able to forge male friendships that I didn’t sexualize. As I experienced true intimacy with Christian men, my hunger for false connection lessened considerably.

Some years later, I moved to Kansas City to partner further with Desert Stream, even to possibly succeed Andrew as the ministry leader at some point. I brought along my new bride, Jordyn, expectant with our first child. We knew Jesus had called our family to carry His heart of true love and true sexuality.

However, Jordyn and I discerned that the young church in Oklahoma that we left (and the Antioch church movement in general) was actually the family God was calling us to serve long-term. We moved back and strengthened that church’s pastoral care ministry, especially regarding sexual and relational wholeness.

My family multiplied as did the Living Waters ministry we tended there. People began to value disclosing shameful struggles in safe places, and God imparted His presence in transformational ways.

Residual struggles could crop up now and then, but the deep community and covering we experienced in the church allowed Jordyn and I to make it through this period of parenting little children and stretching our legs in church ministry relatively unscathed.

At this juncture, God again began to shift our calling to the moral chaos of Seattle, to plant a church that could bring restoration to those wounded and worn out. We said “yes” to what would become the greatest roller-coaster of our lives!

In a little under five years, we’ve seen it all: pandemic politics, moral failures of leaders, babies dying, and losing our worship space due to landlords offended by our orthodox take on sexuality. We’ve also seen the light overcome darkness: restoration of fallen leaders, waves of salvation resulting from tragic events, a church that fuses moral clarity and the triumph of mercy.

The highs and lows begin to wear down my resilience and joy. I felt incredibly lonely and unseen. Male friendships, which had been such an important factor in my journey, became complicated by my role as a lead pastor in a new city. In my weakness and isolation, I began to entertain unclean thoughts. Illicit connection tempted me; I wondered if old familiar sins might give me life rather than trap me in death.

Pioneer leadership and tending to a large family were taking their toll. For the first time, I wondered why God had asked me to do so much on what I perceived as not enough provision.

Things were no easier for Jordyn. Last fall, Jordyn came to me with the desire to attend a Living Waters training, not to be trained or to train others, but simply to retreat into a space where she could meet Jesus afresh and be reminded that she’s a beloved daughter of God. He met her deeply there.

Jordyn and I re-committed to draw upon the wellspring of our marriage, which had gotten a little dry in the multiple pressures we faced in church and family. That is a blessed work in progress. Our covenant partnership produces laughter, creative ideas, and passionate affection that offset life’s stressors in life-giving ways.

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Personally, I needed Jesus to save me again. In truth, I didn’t want to return to my old idols. And I certainly didn’t want to become a cynical, compromised pastor. ‘Restore to me the joy of my salvation’ became my prayer.

God has answered my prayers in several ways. My overseeing pastor met my anxieties and despair with steady reassurance that I didn’t have to quit and that I could discern a reasonable workload as I recovered. His ongoing support of me in my admitted weakness called me up. A gifted Christian therapist brought me back to my father wound, this time not as an abandoned son but as a weary father who could face his fear and prevail over the threat of a dark shadow—the threat of generational suicide.

I shared my deepest lows and vulnerabilities with Andrew Comiskey, and he responded by pressing in for more regular accountability and pastoral care, putting skin on the Father’s advocacy for me. Lastly, God opened my eyes to some good Christian men around me that I could draw on for the healthy connection and camaraderie I craved.

I am experiencing profound renewal. As a middle-aged man, I feel more child-like in my faith than I have in years, maybe decades; I am less religious and more alive to God’s mercy and justice. I have more hope now than ever that Jesus has good things in store for me and the church I lead. I have greater humility and dependence on God. And I am actively relying on others in new and concrete ways.

The gates of hell rattle God’s house but cannot prevail against Merciful Jesus!

Once a month, DSM staff will be lifting up parents and any LGBTQ+-identified children. Please email Abbey at afoard@desertstream.org to be included in our daily prayer.