Gender Dysphoria to Psychiatrist & Pastor: A Raw Conversation

"If you seek Me with all your heart, you will find Me." — Jeremiah 29:13

Some conversations require more than quick answers or simple opinions. They require compassion, honesty, and a willingness to sit with difficult questions. This episode of Kingdom Chaos was one of those conversations. I had the privilege of sitting down with Dr. Paul Looney—a board-certified psychiatrist, pastor, author, husband, and grandfather—to discuss one of the most challenging and sensitive topics facing our culture today: gender dysphoria. This wasn't a political debate or an attempt to prove a point. It was the deeply personal testimony of a man who spent decades wrestling with questions about identity, sexuality, faith, and God's purpose for his life.

As I listened to Paul's story, one thing became immediately clear—his testimony is rooted in honesty. Long before he became a psychiatrist helping others navigate emotional and mental health struggles, Paul was a young boy growing up in the 1950s who desperately wished he had been born a girl. He played with paper dolls, identified more with girls than boys, and never felt like he fit the expectations placed on him as a young man. These weren't feelings he chose, and they certainly weren't feelings he understood. Yet even in those early years, his parents responded with remarkable wisdom. They neither affirmed his desire to become a girl nor shamed him for struggling. Looking back, Paul believes that loving him without reinforcing his confusion became one of the greatest gifts his parents could have given him.

As Paul grew older, his internal struggle became even more complicated. What began as gender confusion eventually developed into same-sex attraction. He described feeling caught between two worlds. He didn't feel like other boys, yet he also believed what Scripture taught about sexuality. The tension led him to wrestle with questions many believers quietly ask: How can I love God and still struggle with something I never chose? Instead of allowing those questions to push him away from God, they became the very thing that drove him closer. Paul explained that this difficult season taught him to become completely honest with God. Rather than pretending everything was fine, he brought his confusion, frustration, anger, and fear directly into his prayers. That honesty became the doorway to a much deeper relationship with Christ.

One of the moments that challenged me the most was when Paul explained that while we don't always choose our struggles, we do have a choice in how we respond to them. He compared gender dysphoria to many of the broken realities every person experiences in a fallen world. Some battle anxiety. Others struggle with addiction, depression, anger, pride, or destructive desires. None of us gets to choose every area of brokenness we carry. But all of us are invited to surrender those struggles to Jesus instead of allowing them to define who we are. That was such an important reminder for me because our identity is never rooted in our temptations or our pain. Our identity is found in Christ.

Paul also shared one of the most heartbreaking moments of his life. At twenty-two years old, while seriously considering abandoning his biblical convictions and pursuing same-sex relationships, his older brother died by suicide. As he shared that part of his story, I couldn't help but think about how tragedy has a way of forcing us to look beyond the temporary and toward eternity. Paul believes God used that devastating loss to redirect the course of his life. While he would never minimize the pain of losing his brother, he also recognizes that God used that moment to draw him back toward Himself. It was a powerful reminder that God can redeem even the most heartbreaking moments of our lives.

One question I really wanted to ask Paul was something I know many parents, pastors, and believers are asking today: Is this really a choice? I appreciated the compassion and wisdom in his answer. He acknowledged that people don't choose to experience gender dysphoria or same-sex attraction, just as many don't choose depression, anxiety, or other forms of brokenness. But while we may not choose the struggle itself, we do choose how we respond to it. Paul shared that he spent years trying everything he could think of to change himself—prayer, fasting, counseling, Scripture memorization, and every spiritual discipline imaginable. Eventually, he reached the end of his own efforts and surrendered everything to God. Instead of demanding immediate answers, he trusted the One who already knew the outcome.

As our conversation continued, I wanted to shift the focus to something I encounter often in ministry—parents walking with children who are struggling with gender identity or sexuality. Paul's advice wasn't rooted in fear or condemnation. It was rooted in love. He encouraged parents to create homes where their children know they are deeply loved while also faithfully pointing them toward biblical truth. Love and truth are never enemies. In fact, they must walk together. Paul reminded me that people are far more likely to receive truth from someone who has consistently loved them than from someone who has simply argued with them. His encouragement was simple: don't panic, don't reject your child, and don't stop pointing them to Jesus.

Another theme that kept surfacing throughout our conversation was suffering. Paul believes our culture has become increasingly uncomfortable with hardship, always looking for the easiest path forward. As he spoke, I found myself thinking about my own life. Amy and I have walked through seasons where we wanted God to simply remove the pain, but instead He used those seasons to transform us. Paul compared spiritual growth to physical exercise. Muscles only become stronger when they experience resistance, and faith often grows the same way. Rather than running from difficult circumstances, God invites us to trust Him through them. The very struggles we wish would disappear may become the instruments He uses to shape our character and deepen our dependence on Him.

As we wrapped up our conversation, Paul shared something that perfectly captured the heart behind Kingdom Chaos. He reminded me that Scripture never promises a life free from hardship. Instead, God often meets His people most powerfully in the wilderness. Jacob wrestled with God. Job endured unimaginable suffering. Peter reminded believers not to be surprised by fiery trials. The goal isn't to avoid chaos. The goal is to encounter God in the middle of it. Paul said something that has stayed with me ever since: when we become desperate for God, we often discover His presence more clearly than ever before.

When I reflect on this conversation, I don't think it's ultimately about gender dysphoria.

I think it's about surrender.

It's about discovering that our identity is found in Christ before it's found anywhere else.

It's about believing that God isn't intimidated by our hardest questions.

And it's about trusting that even our deepest struggles can become places where His grace is displayed most clearly.

Maybe you're wrestling with something today that you never asked for.

Maybe it's not gender dysphoria.

Maybe it's anxiety.

Depression.

Addiction.

Shame.

Fear.

Whatever it is, I want to encourage you with the same truth that encouraged me through this conversation.

Don't run from God.

Run to Him.

Bring your questions.

Bring your confusion.

Bring your fears.

Bring your brokenness.

God isn't waiting for you to have everything figured out before He welcomes you into His presence.

He simply invites you to seek Him with your whole heart.

Because sometimes the greatest transformation doesn't happen when every question has been answered.

It happens while we're still wrestling—and discovering that God has been holding onto us all along.

Listen to: From Gender Dysphoria to Psychiatrist & Pastor: A Raw Conversation

Previous
Previous

Stop Grinding, Start Surrendered: Learning to Hear the Holy Spirit in the Noise

Next
Next

From meth to ministry through a jail cell