I’d been caught in an off-limits room making out with my girlfriend. This wasn’t the first time. I’d been warned over and over about breaking curfew, sneaking out to the pub, and going places I wasn’t allowed.

When Charles Price, the principal of Capernwray Hall, called me to his office I sheepishly made my way, firing off prayers for mercy.

When I arrived, I received mercy, just not the kind I was hoping for. As he expelled me from the Bible School where my parents met decades ago, Charles said, “Jonathan, one day you will thank me for this.”

I stepped out of the castle doors onto the crushed rock drive, turned back to wave goodbye to all my friends, and wiped the tears from my eyes. Shame, not gratitude, was on my heart.

SHAME ON ME

After returning to the States, I got involved in a college ministry where I was discipled for the first time. A staff member took me and my best friend under his wing. I was still a mess.

Although I was earnestly seeking Christ, studying the Bible, sharing my faith, and being discipled, I couldn’t keep my hands off women.

The dating relationship would start off alright: shared attraction to Christ, fellowship over eternal things, fun dates—but then things would get physical. I couldn’t say no. I slept with more Christian women than I want to admit.