Homosexual Agenda

Youthful Innocence - Lost to a Culture Gone Wild

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Karen Battles
Contributing Columnist & AFR Staff Member
December 11, 2000

Timmy's appearance was like other teen-age boys I see at school events, movie theaters, video stores and teen hangouts. To see him in any of these settings he would have blended in, another teen enjoying time with friends. But Timmy wasn't in any of these locations and the harsh reality of his life was a rude awakening.

I thought I had no naivete left. After all, for almost five years I have worked for an organization fighting for family values and have been exposed to the truth of our nation's morality. Actually, I have been exposed to the extreme fraying of the very moral fiber that has held this nation together, weaving generation upon generation in what once seemed an unbreakable cord. With my own hand, through poor life choices, I myself had torn the threads of morality I am now trying to weave back together. Because of all this, I really did not think many things could surprise me anymore, but one thing did.

Observation
On a trip to Washington, D.C., I went into the homosexual community for background on a project I am working on. My trip was led by a man who is a former homosexual. He "lived the life" in D.C. and knew the places to go. We started in Dupont Circle. While I disagree with the practice of homosexuality, the scene did not make me want to scream in anger though I was angry over the deception and bondage so many were trapped in. It did sadden me but not to tears. I was taking in the scenes but protecting myself at the same time. I was more caught up in observation than in the actual life stories being played out before my eyes. It was as if I were cocooned in a layer of insulation that allowed only half of the emotions and reality through.

We left Dupont Circle for the far less attractive side of homosexual nightlife, an area with a strip club (yes, they have those also), a bath house and other "attractions." I did not go into any of these clubs but saw enough. One club had two sections. At one end was a bar where drag queens, decked out in full and not so full attire performed their routines to popular songs. Many of the male performers wore evening gowns and some would remove them to reveal other less modest attire underneath. Others merely started out in a more suggestive and exposed state. The other end had male dancers for their male audience.

A bath house was also in this string of buildings. The entrance alone let you know this is different. There were no welcoming faces, no inviting music, no pretenses of normalcy, just three flights of stairs leading to another floor with stark gray walls surrounding you and closing in on you. People waited at the door for admission into what was described to me as a
dark abyss which few escape.

Realization
One business next to the bath house was a club which youth are known to frequent. My guide pointed out a young man (we nicknamed him Timmy) sitting on a wall in front of one club. He was the wholesome looking boy-next-door type, dressed as a normal teen. Timmy, who was perhaps sixteen, was talking to two older men who seemed to be in their fifties. Before long Timmy was walking away with the two men and got into their car. The reality of what I witnessed did not register at first. I wanted to believe I had simply witnessed an innocent conversation. Maybe I just did not want to see it. Realization dawned as my guide informed me that little Timmy had just sold himself to these two men for the night. This was my rude awakening. I am not naive. At thirty-seven I have seen the base nature of our society. I have seen a child who died a painful death and a parent
charged with child abuse in the case. I have seen pornography. I have seen the results of alcohol and drug abuse. But I had never seen a child prostitute himself.

Contemplation
I cannot get Timmy out of my mind and I hope I never do. It was only after seeing the truth of what he did that I can start seeing the truth of the lives of countless other Timmys. There are more of them than we have been willing to admit. They have many different names but the stories are all too similar, whether they live in our nation's capitol or a small town. Some prostitute themselves homosexually and others heterosexually, but either way there is damage - mental, emotional, physical and spiritual. Perhaps even greater are the numbers who prostitute themselves, not for money, but trying to obtain love, affection or acceptance into a society that no longer seems to cherish the innocence of youth.

The American people are on a quest for youth but we are paying a high price. We are stripping away the wonder, beauty and simplicity of the very thing we are pursuing from the ones who are most entitled to it.

Dedication
I will never forget Timmy. I will continue to fight to repair, to weave back together, the moral bond we share with our forefathers. I will continue to fight for our youth, but now I will do it with a full realization of the high price to be paid if I ever surrender to a culture gone wild. It is a price no one should ever pay. It is a price that is unacceptable. There can be no negotiation for something as priceless as the innocence of youth.

ACTION NEEDED:

Pray that God will put a hedge of protection around the bodies and minds of America's children and youth.

Pray that Christians in America will repent of the idolatry of loving our possessions and our comfort while neglecting those of all ages who are poor and needy.

Pray that those who perpetrate on children and youth will be exposed and dealt with.

Pray that God will grant repentance (2 Peter 3:9) to the lost in America.

Pray that God will protect and purify our minds as we live amid such depravity in our culture.