The No Bull Briefing: The Monthly Newsletter of the Samson Society

 

THE SLOW WORK I used to think my drug of choice was pornography. Turns out my real addiction was speed — the desperate need to make bad feelings go away right now. Impatience, impulsiveness, a rock-bottom tolerance for discomfort: these weren’t side effects of my addiction, they were the engine of it. Twenty-eight years into recovery, I’m still in remedial class on this one. Allie and I are older now, and aging and cancer have ways of putting a bullhorn to a lesson I thought I’d learned. Like it or not, there’s no hack for a body that heals on its own schedule and not one minute sooner, no matter how many YouTube videos I watch at 2 a.m. convinced I’ve found the one weird trick doctors don’t want you to know. The same was true, on a much deeper level, for Allie’s healing from my betrayal. I wanted it finished. I wanted her to feel safe again by Tuesday. Every time I tried to hurry that process along — with the right words, the right gesture, the right grand romantic overture — I only slowed it down. Real trust doesn’t arrive faster because you knock on the door harder. What recovery actually gave me wasn’t a cure for impatience. It gave me a practice: one day at a time, trusting that whatever I feel — dread, grief, even joy — will pass, and that healing that comes slowly is still healing. Some things simply cannot be rushed. Least of all, apparently, me. — Nate Larkin Hey guys, I am getting amped up about our summit in October. I’ve had some great conversations with John Lynch, our main speaker, and he is putting some great effort into our time. John has always been so good at articulating how the gospel gives us the opportunity to discover a transformative identity in Christ. But at the summit this year we are going to tie that importance into the recovery walk and story work. In other words, we are going to be building bridges between what we believe in the pews and Bible studies and what we believe when guilt, shame, and condemnation come gnawing at our souls in the darkest hours of the night. Basically, we’ve all got a narrative running in our heads about who we are and what we are worth. Those stories are generally rooted in and anchored to our past experiences. It may be in childhood experiences, wounds, betrayals, loneliness, perceived failure, or struggles with sin and utter failures. All of those voices are so loud, demanding our attention and capturing our identities. How we tie our faith into our recovery and community walks is not just important; it’s vital. That’s what we are going to be working through in Michigan this fall. I can’t wait. If you haven’t signed up yet, the details are below. Do the planning team a solid and make your arrangements today so we know who all is coming and how to get ready for you. And remember, if you want to come a day early for some time with your brothers and a little heart preparation, that is available to you as well. Hoping to get to hang with you all in the fall (yes, I know, it rhymed, and was awesome). Aaron COME TO THE SAMSON SUMMIT What if you gave yourself a weekend to step away from the noise and remember what matters most? The 2026 Samson Summit is October 23–25 at Faholo Conference Center in Grass Lake, Michigan. It’s a weekend of truth, grace, and brotherhood—a place to drop the masks, tell the truth, laugh with other men, and experience the freedom that comes from not having to do this alone. This year, we’re honored to welcome John Lynch as our keynote speaker, along with teaching, small groups, conversations, walks, fun activities, and plenty of time gathered around the campfire. Come for the teaching. Come for the brotherhood. Come because sometimes you need to get out of your normal environment to see your story—and yourself—differently. And if you can’t make it to Michigan, you can JOIN US VIRTUALLY for the Summit from wherever you are. Come as you are. Bring the parts of your story you’ve learned to hide. See them through the lens of grace. Register Today!   Want to help a brother attend? Click here to donate to our Summit scholarship fund! NO BULL ABOUT THE MONEY A few guys have told us recently that they’d like more transparency about Samson House finances. I think they’re right. Samson House exists to serve the Samson Society, and the guys who support this work deserve to know where the money comes from and where it goes. So here are the numbers: Through September 2, Samson House has received about $212,000 and spent about $226,000. That puts us roughly $14,000 in the red for the year so far. Our biggest expense is people: about $118,600 in salaries and wages, a little over half of everything we spent. After that, about $21,000 on the Harbor, $15,000 on office, technology and website costs, and $9,600 on travel. Samson House also handles Sarah Society funds, and those run through our books on both sides. Counted as a whole program rather than a calendar year, that retreat is running about $13,700 short of its registrations. As of August 31, we had about $56,000 in the bank. Of that sum, $35,000 is held in reserve to pay for the Summit and $21,000 to cover upcoming fees for the website and app. We also own the Harbor, carried on our books at $690,000 with about $343,000 remaining on the loan. It brought in $28,000 in rent this year. There’s considerably more detail behind those numbers, and we’ve put it on the app for anybody who wants to look under the hood. But we’re also going to make this kind of report a regular feature. You shouldn’t need a finance degree — or an invitation to a board meeting — to have a reasonable idea of how Samson House is doing. --Nate Donate View this email in your browser.

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Silas 3.0

I put very little stock in finding a (via the virtual Samson Society meetings / community) Silas after my in-person Silas (2.0) relationship from '21 unexpectedly imploded.  And that awful (& embarrassing) relational fallout did linger for close to a year, though some closure did bittersweetly seed whilst finding out he had (thankfully) abandoned Samson Society completely.

Whilst looking back, I don't believe that present Silas (of mine) actually had much of any intention to recover from his chronic sexual sin behaviors.  Instead, he dedicated himself therein mostly to internally congratulate himself for admitting to "needing help" (by committing to regular meeting attendance).  Too, he basked in the attention I (as well as many other young bucks) bestowed upon him.  

Today, my Silas isn't a man I speak to regularly except via recorded voice memos.  Plus, we've never met in-person.  Yet, I love this man.  And at the heart of that love is his commitment (like me) to Samson Society combined with a genuine love for recovery itself.  And that's what harkens him back to my Silas 1.0.

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My first Silas absolutely loved recovery, as much or more than me even.  And only now with Silas 3.0 have I found his equal.  It's been a fresh, exciting adventure.

Happy Birthday, my new friend!

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Many Of These Young Men May Be Doomed

I had lunch with my oldest friend last week.  He and I walked beside each other (even rooming together during 4th year) throughout (the majority of) architecture school at Mississippi State University.  Today, we're both 54 years young, having graduated together (w/ +/-40 others) in 1995.

My oldest friend was my best man in my wedding and I his.  Though we don't see each other often (I don't care for his wife), we do make a point to lunch 2-4 times a year in order to catch up.  Thankfully, this is made easy due to the fact that his office is just a mile or so from my own.

He and I are both blessed to be fathers.  My friend has two children, one of which is a son.  And this boy is floundering as a young man (he's 20-years old), and the major causation is his isolation (zero face-to-face friends).  No doubt, my old friend divulged this during lunch last week.  Hence, I've been thinking a lot about this travesty whilst reminiscencing about our times "back in the day" supporting each other.  For this boy lives a life of privilege within the richest most opportunistic culture on planet Earth, yet his life / future is in the ditch in light of his stark aloneness.

Obviously, online video games didn't exist when my old friend and I were 20 years old.  The absence of the Internet fortified that truth.  We did wear headphones, though there was no need for microphones to be integrated therein.  And those headphones were used mostly to listen to compact discs (remember the Discman?) or cassette tapes (Yay for the Walkman!).  

My friend's son claims that he DOES HAVE FRIENDS.  There just online...

Please.

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Yesterday, there was a tiny crazy woman at the Y.  She was meandering around the gym floor talking and coughing (gagging?) aimlessly to herself whilst sporting her Spandex.  Initially, I assumed she had those ridiculous earpads in, and via the miracle of cellular / Wi-Fi was chatting to whomever, but I was wrong.  Instead, she was simply having an imaginary conversation with her broken brain as she wove in and out of the machines irrationally.  

& this wasn't the first time I'd seen her there doing this crazy act.

(You never know what you'll encounter at the Y.)

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The building adjacent to our office building houses one of the few children's allergy clinics within central MS.  I took note today (again) of a handful of female staff members (no less dressed in their blue scrubs) using the very edge of the ground transformer concrete pad (located covertly at the rearmost corner of the building) as their butt perch to light up together.

I'm not one to advocate smoking, but you have to admit, particularly within this digital day and age, that if nicotine / tobacco brings people into healthy platonic community, so be it.

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Not long after my first encounter with my old friend (summer of '90), it didn't take me long to adjudicate the fact that both honesty and reliability were his watchwords.  Plus, he wasn't one to criticize or gossip (at least to me).  I liked all of these traits despite the fact that he'd no doubt (at the outset of our friendship) had fallen out of the ugly tree (& hit a few branches on his way down).  Oh, my goodness, you should have seen this kid's driver's license photo!

Keep in mind that I was by no means - a looker - at age 19-20 either, but this poor South MS kid had it really, really rough in the looks department.

Overall, in spite of our very different (suburban vs rural) upbringings, we just fit well together.  And recognizing our need for community (& my pity response), us two architecture students naturally joined forces platonically.  It was as simple as that.

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Perhaps because I'm an only child, finding solid friends has always been a priority.  

Never would I have endured architecture school then working within the cutthroat architecture field sans close, personal friends like Jason.  I feel certain I'd be right there with that crazy woman at the Y.

I'm afraid Jason's son situation isn't looking so healthy going forward.  That makes me very sad.  For I know firsthand exactly what he's missing out on via genuine platonic community.

If you're young, and wise enough, use your need for recovery as an excuse to, first & foremost, make lifelong friends via Samson Society.  And even if there're not face-to-face / in-person, attending meetings / after-meetings fosters the relationships that you absolutely were designed by God to have! 

Thanks be to God for Samson Society! 

Those Collective Exhale Moments

When certain Samson brothers walk away from this community, no doubt, everyone can breathe a little easier.  And you know exactly who I'm referring to.  Those emotionally volatile guys.  The ones that make great soap opera characters but not so much real friends.

And thankfully, there aren't too many of these odd-men-out within this community, but they are there.  For now...

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Level-headedness (fueled by humility) is one of those guaranteed traits Christian men need to thrive, long-term, within communities like Samson Society.  

But many men aren't anywhere close to level-headed much less humble.  Instead, their (heated) emotions (particularly when they're tired / bored) take over.  When that occurs, most everyone takes notice, especially so when it's an inappropriate / childish response.  And that's when the distancing begins in earnest.  

Of course, distancing isn't an attribute found within a thriving Christian community of men.  

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I witnessed this firsthand during a sophomore Spring Samson retreat (in-person Samson community) at / around Highlands, NC many years ago.  One brother was always looking for an opportunity to "flare up" so long as said opportunity had one particular Samson brother's name attached to it.  Think of this dynamic within the same vein as a sibling rivalry.  And eventually, it got ugly between these two.  And from there, everyone's point of view changed.

My naivete cloistered this incident as isolated.  Boy was I ever wrong.  

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