Stand Up For Yourself, Not Your Desires Whilst Recalling The Desire of Your GodMan, Jesus Christ

The summer prior to my sixth-grade year, I was ushered into my inaugural First Baptist Church Jackson "youth group" summer camp experience.  The year was 1985 (I was just turning 13 years-old) and the location was Mt. Lebanon, Texas.  Overall, it was an absolute blast!  Our youth pastor, Rick Ball, was well loved by every student (all ages), therefore the robust attendance therein served as a reflection of his popularity.  Of note is the fact that this particular (weeklong + weekend) summer youth camp experience represented / served Protestant churches from all across the country in light of Mr. Dawson McCallister being our loudmouthed ("STILLBORN!!!") evangelist / camp pastor.  

I vividly recall responding wholeheartedly to an altar call during this summer camp.  My dear friend, Riley Brown, kindly accompanied me down front where Rick was stationed.  From there, we made our way up onto an adjacent berm to chat / pray.  Though I'd been baptized prior, this was my first genuine, comprehensible (of the gospel as it pertained specifically to Rob) profession of faith.

So why was that?  What was it about this setting / timing that was so unique?

Because I knew my depravity to a much greater degree than I did prior (I was baptized as a 4th / 5th grader).

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During that same summer camp, earlier in the week, I was tangibly faced - head on - with my same-sex attraction.  In light of all the (young) men (7th-12th) bunking together within one open air bunkhouse / barrack, my only child self experienced some impossible to ignore eye candy (strut-worthy, older, athletically-built teen boys).  Hence, I felt ashamed and alone for these feelings seamlessly synchronized with budding sexual fantasies I'd been harboring deep within.  Fantasies with men that fit specific masculine archetypes / builds (older, more mature physically, athletically built).  All of which had been blown tremendously out of proportion within my boyhood head as protectors / guardians / fans (of a deeply insecure child Rob). 

Why did I do this?  What made me susceptible therein?   

Two things:

1.  The terrifying physical changes coming / underway tied to adolescence.  Changes which I desperately wanted to reverse / stave off.

2.  Not having family (father, brother, mother) I could emotionally trust / lean into.  Specifically, both of my parents were still attempting to muddle through the marital rubble resulting from their relatively recent (when I was 10) relational falling out.

3.  Having a supercharged imagination that had been primed via all manner of '80s entertainment + action figures.  In essence, boyRob co-existed within the real world and his own highly captivating fantasy world (whether or not it was sexually explicit).

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The other big component of my newfound faith in Jesus Christ as a boy, for such a time as that, was aimed squarely at Jesus as my lead.  Becoming a disciple, following his teachings, all of this appealed mightily to boyRob.  All the while choosing to deny myself (which, in theory, felt not at all hard to do).  For I had seen firsthand how deceptively mislead / distorted my heart truly was.

From there, I began praying and listening much more intently to older Christians.  But, my homosexual fantasy life, I chose to never divulge nor attempt to flaunt / personify / celebrate as a teenager.  Keep in mind that it was a different time / place back in 1985.  Especially in Mississippi.  

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But, due to the scale of our youth group, statistically, it was obvious to me that I wasn't the only boy struggling with homosexual desires.  And, as is often the case, that one other boy, from early on, would orbit Rob annoyingly (particularly during out-of-town / overnight treks - camps, retreats, etc.).  

We'll call him Overachiever Jim.  And Overachiever Jim was about as gay-acting as they come.

Until he wasn't...

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The reason I'm bringing this guy up is how upfront he was regarding his personality / preferences.  And again, this being 1985, there was no (especially within a church setting) normalized homosexual references to speak of.  Jim was simply Jim.  Original and annoying.  Desperate for attention in tandem with being decidedly mediocre (physical looks, talents) overall with the only exception being his work ethic (Jim was a star student, constantly vying for top of his class).  

But, if there was one thing Jim was not, it was uncomfortable in his skin.

I can remember spending the night with Jim on one occasion.  The following Saturday, when my mother came to retrieve me, before we had even left their driveway (Jim was an only child as well, living with his divorced mother), she forbade me from returning.  All because I'd "picked up his girlish accent / dialect" via that short-lived exposure to my new friend.

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Jim went (far away) to an out of state college, and it was there where he left his uniquely effeminate persona (along with the baby fat bod) behind.  Today, he's an accomplished author, collegiate leader, father, husband.

I encouraged him once to compile / author a book (he's a trained sociologist) featuring stories of men like us.  He politely declined.  

I have to believe he was deeply offended by including him therein.  For if you were to encounter him today, there's no trace of his flamboyantly adolescent self left.

I'm willing to bet a dollar that he's personally destroyed every photo, memento that even hints at that loathed history of his true self.

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Samson Society keeps me focused on this part of myself that frankly I spent the majority of my life emotionally disabled by.  Hence, I'm the antithesis of Overachiever Jim as I do no work towards hiding / disassembling / reconstituting myself.  And that's been especially true over the last week as this middle-aged version of Rob has had his ass kicked via workload on top of personal obligations on top of my wife's vocational woes (which have angered / confused / frustrated her husband).  

Week after week, I host two meetings (they begin & end my weekends).  I also talk to my Silas (& vice versa) regularly throughout the week.  You might argue that Samson Society is my albatross.

Perhaps.  But so long as I'm drawn towards Christ, why not attempt, truly attempt to see what he sees?

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I believe being a little Christ requires faith in a GodMan that desires a relationship with you as a flawed, sinful human being, and that the depth of that relationship is tied directly to how deeply you know yourself.  For GodMan knows you 100% since he created you from scratch.  

The only real surefire way to know myself - better & better - has been via intentional / organizable recovery work.

It's often imperfect, sometimes repetitive, but it's the most effective means I know of.  

Lagniappe

Jolene Broome

I re-read (& re-pinned a fresher YouTube video within) this very popular JMSS post:  Jackson Mississippi Samson Society: How Lockdowns Combined With The Internet Made You So Sex(uality) Crazed, & Perhaps For The Better. Be Wary of Secondhand Internet from February 2022.

Since the re-pinned video wasn't the original one, I took the time to screen its more recently created (Christian softball) replacement.  And it got me to thinking.

What if Joshua Broome had been a Jolene Broome?  Would her story replicate despite the gender change?

Let's be more specific.  

Jolene, being as bright and "girl next door" physically attractive as her "fraternal twin", Josh, would have had the exact experience - from start to finish - related to become one of the most prolific / well compensated porn stars prior to returning home to her mother - +/-5 years later - in the Carolinas / quietly morphing into a respected personal trainer / being lassoed in by the gospel of Jesus Christ / getting married to a virgin, Christian man (who's NEVER consumed porn) and then becoming the next Kay Arthur / Beth Moore.  

Absolutely not would her story replicate Josh's.  

There'd be no chance she'd be seen as anything other than refuse / a liability, no matter her spiritual testimony.  I suppose certain folks might pity her and her story, but no one would buy into her being "sucked" unassumingly into the porn industry as Josh so doey-eyed, unassumingly capitulates.

For women can most certainly model their sensuality (Victoria's Secret), but they absolutely cannot participate in the creation of pornography sans being labeled a slut - for life.

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Therefore, let's turn our attention back to Josh, porn star turned preacher / Ward Cleaver - father of four boys whose past has never truly seemed to catch up with / stuck to him.

The elephant in the room, of course, is the digital archive.  Thousands upon thousands of hours of straight and gay porn that'll be archived forever online.  Titillating, influencing, explicitly narrating extremely intimate sex acts performed by none other than he himself.  Over and over and over again with hundreds, if not thousands of strangers.  And all of this is simply one click of the mouse away... 

How do you reconcile that in relation to your children / grandchildren having access therein to this part of your past?  And the bigger question is the following:  When Josh's family (church / bio) begins to inquire (demand?) an explanation pertaining to him truly explaining his past life, what's he going to say?  In particular, the sheer quantity of sex partners, thousands of hours of smut highlighting his ability to fuck consenting adults animalistically whilst being filmed / photographed.

But, considering his present pastoral role, how would you, as his parishioner, reconcile that within your own mind?  For I believe much of it, for him personally, comes down to his pseudonym / porn star moniker that he chose to uphold throughout that season of his life.  It must serve as a dividing line of sorts.  Plus, we're all familiar with the theatrics behind the notion of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde - two separate personas neither of which can exist simultaneously.  Perhaps his parishioners would take the same approach.

Here's a thought.

I suppose, if his porn career archive only existed within the analog, perhaps there could be some reconciliation therein, but of course, that's most certainly not the case.  Most everything, particularly within the porn space has been digitized.  And, there's no doubt, his onscreen "work" continues to gain traction in light of his newfound vocation / willingness to narrate his story. 

The bigger question though is to what degree and exactly why his charmingly good looks and seemingly unashamed approach captivate audiences.  If you've screened ex-female porn stars' testimonies (converted to Christianity or otherwise), particularly those who were as entrenched as Josh was within the industry, the primary differentiator comes down to trauma.  Deep seated trauma.

Most female porn stars are victims, from their childhoods onward, of sexual abuse / trafficking.  This sets them up perfectly for the roles they'll play within porn, and even well into their retirement from the industry itself due to the inevitable lifelong shunning / ostracization that'll be handed to them - on a silver platter. 

To look at this clinically, Jolene would be, no doubt, easily recognized as traumatized so long as she's mentally / emotionally sound.

Now then, here's the fact that no one's discussing here.

Josh exacted / inflicted that trauma as the Alpha male.  The stud.  The stallion.  This no doubt eventually resulted in amassing a tremendous amount of shame for this young man, but that could never be compared to being traumatized via sexual assault / coercion under the hot lights of the porn industry.  

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Poor Jolene.  Poor, poor Jolene.  No wonder so many women with her story simply choose to become lesbians after the fact.  

It's no doubt a man's world.  The story of Josh Broome proves it. 

Why Are There So Many Churches In Mississippi?

I had the privilege to attend a baptismal service this AM, and it was a delight to witness.  There were four new converts to Christianity that were baptized:  my female (professional) friend who's around 35 years of age, a preadolescent boy, a late 20s female and early 30s male.  Both of the women were relatively new moms, each married (their husbands were present, one of which was baptized).  All four were baptized out of doors in a "horse trough" adjacent to the modest churchhouse. 

And speaking of the churchhouse, it was a dump.  Picture a prefabricated metal building with an outdated (color) brick veneer front facade.  If I had to guess, it was erected / constructed sometime in the '70s or '80s perhaps as a small flooring showroom or somesuch.  The Jackson Metro area this church resides in is zoned industrial, but as is often the case in Mississippi, when a building sits vacant within these enclaves for any length of time, owners will do just about anything to sell (in order to avoid the continual burden of property taxes).  But, in order to make a sale palatable to church bodies, zoning laws must either be "updated" or exemptions granted.   

The parishioners present were 98% white, and there were around fifty overall in attendance.  And yes, you're correct to assume that the pastor was bi-vocational, and what a sweet, kindhearted white man this was!

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One of my daughters is slated to be baptized prior to the end of '25.  The church that she's a member of is part of a denomination that's well represented in Mississippi, and the church itself (member count) is likely 15-20 times larger than the church I attended this AM.

If you were to chronicle all of the churches in Mississippi today, 90% of them would fall in between these two extremes, and the remaining few would consist of a very small quantity of multi-site mega churches and the ever fluid collection of house churches.

Churches, churches, churches.  They're everywhere in Mississippi, but the vast majority, I believe, are best represented via the one I spent two hours in this AM.  Why?

Shame.

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Mississippi is a state overflowing with shame-filled folks.  Some of that shame is rooted in simply being Mississippians, but the vast majority of it finds its origins in individuals' histories.  

A local friend of mine has parents who both divorced (from their first spouses) prior to marrying each other / reproducing.  These folks are highly educated / intelligent Christians who're VERY WELL ESTABLISHED / INFLUENTIAL within their (my) community (well loved by all who come in fortunate contact with them).  Their modus operandi for dealing with the shame from those initial (obviously very short-lived) divorces was to bury it, therefore they never divulged it to their children (& somehow they strong-armed their families to do the same).  

Isn't that weird?  Perhaps.  But, in many ways, I kinda think they were wise.  For their children / grandchildren have excelled.

Nonetheless, if you were to meet these wonderful Christian people, you'd NO IDEA they had any shame surrounding that portion of their individual histories whatsoever.

But they're the exception.

Almost everyone else in the Magnolia State gets seriously mired down in the deep seated collateral damage that coincides with regrettable portions of their lives.  It's simply baked into our humanity. 

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My wife and I have worked hard to teach our kidlets about the permanency / weight of stupidity (stupid is a verb) and how it can seemingly forever undermine one's sense of self worth.  And mostly this teaching has been via our commitment to each other / them through their impressionable childhoods.  

For we wouldn't mind them getting baptized in the church I attended this AM, but only if they're choosing to do so is well justified.  

Tiny, dumpy churches mostly exist for deeply ashamed Mississippians.  These folks will forgo (for themselves & their dependents) the bountiful resources available to them within larger, more established (denominatory) churches simply due to the fact that they're convinced that they're too dirty to belong / feel comfortable there.

Let me repeat that:

Tiny, dumpy churches mostly exist for deeply ashamed Mississippians.  These folks will forgo (for themselves & their dependents) the bountiful resources available to them within larger, more established (denominatory) churches simply due to the fact that they're convinced that they're too dirty to belong / feel comfortable there.

Think of it this way.  It's like white people thinking like black people when it comes to their church home.  

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In conclusion, I wonder if this same negative, shame-filled outlook is what motivates pastors (like the one who officiated this morning's baptismal service) to forgo attending seminary (or at times, any form of higher education for that matter) in light of simply "winging it" from their homely pulpits.  I mean, it's not like these men are dumbasses.  If you're going to do any form of preaching / pastoring, you certainly can't be low intelligence.  Therefore, seminary / higher ed is certainly an option for them, yet they choose to not move in that direction.

Therefore, absolutely, these pastors can absolutely be collaterally damaged.  Seriously damaged.  I've seen it (some of these men are involved in Samson Society).  

Shame is the second most powerful force on planet Earth.  Masculinity is the first.  How different Mississippi would look if we could simply get a grip on our shame.

Do You Fear God?

When I began to realize how deliberately indulging lust was (at the precipice of middle school), this is when I began to truly fear God.  Up until then, I had no real reason to fear him, though I did believe he existed and that our world had been / continued to be ordered via his will.  

My bio father was an enforcer of rules within our home, though most of those were unspoken expectations that simply centered around me being obedient to my parents' commands (sans any sardonic commentary).  As I aged, he understandably pulled back therein (in proportion to my teenage emotional retreat), becoming more and more distant as any sort of active guidepost / leader within my life (he was consistently present / reliably routine). 

Therefore eventually, my then new fear of God also morphed into need.  That being direction for not only managing my depravity but for my life overall.  For my penchant for lust was only ramping up / becoming more pervasive as a go-to private entertainment escape.

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We've had the good fortune to spend some quality time with new friends over the holidays.  One of the distinct differences that I've clued into therein is the lack of God fear within these lovely human beings.  And as a Christian, this is hard for me to relate to.  For I begin wondering, am I more depraved than most, or is this simply tied to me attempting to be God (judge) with or without any true accuracy (or some combination therein)?

I read my Bible regularly.  I pray regularly.  I enjoy both of these things immensely.  Right now, I'm reading through the book of Ezekiel.  In fact, I just finished chapter 23.  If you've never read Ezekiel 23, it's essentially a brutally descriptive / explicitly pornographic allegory of two people groups / physical places and God's utter disgust with their chronic debauchery (lack of fear).  

In tandem with this, I'm undergoing some very intense personal recovery work right here during the holidays.  Recovery work inspired by some of Mr. Andrew Bauman's teachings at the '24 Samson Summit.

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In closing, church is really important to me as well.  Why?  Because of its representation as Christ's bride combined with all the good (that I've experienced) from being involved within a local body of believers.  Much of the book of Acts focuses on the early Christian church.  If you're a Bible-loving Christian, wouldn't you work hard to find / invest within a local church (even if you're single) that serves you / allows you to serve others well?

I'm certainly not anymore depraved than the average Joe, but I am much more prone to ruminate on this part of myself (I have to believe).  

At times, a deep-seated sense of worthlessness has taken root, over the years, as a result of this.  

Were I less inclined to follow This Path, I don't believe fear would ever reside within the same sentence as God, therefore I'm very much at peace with remembering my need for salvation and, in turn, how deliberately rebellious my heart can be as any sort of almanac for my life.  

Lagniappe:

"I'm Fed Up With This Church / Pastor / Congregation!"

Here in Mississippi, there's a Protestant church on almost every corner, and this is especially true in the metro suburbs / small towns.  

Why is this the case?

Churches are a dime a dozen here for numerous reasons, but one (typically unspoken) reason that can't be ignored is the infamous church-split.

Churches splitting or splintering can be quite the acrimonious affair.  An affair that's often rooted in either theological, pastoral or stylistic dissonance amongst the parishioners.

Many church offshoots (as a result of a split) die within just a few years (if not months), but others find their feet and grow notwithstanding their Zero Hour.  Hence, splitting or splintering off happens every so often as parishioners feel so moved to take - what they believe is - necessary risks to get what they want.

All in all, if you're a parishioner who's "Fed Up!" with some aspect of your church home, you're by far not an original trope.  And I think it's important to realize this.  For there's often a sense of vigilance (versus humility) that's the true source of "fed-upness".  As such, the ramifications therein need to be taken holistically into account.   

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Going a little deeper relative to this topic, before you decide to walk away from a healthy church body, forgoing your / your family's membership there, consider how your doing so will long-term impact your family.

If you're a father to children between the ages of 8 to 21 (assuming you have parental rights intact), your aforementioned decision MUST TAKE THEIR SPIRITUAL WELL-BEING INTO ACCOUNT if your desire is to see your children / grandchildren grow in stature via Christendom.  

That being said, I do realize there are fathers who completely decouple themselves from this "spiritual responsibility" towards their children, but I believe it's important to realize that their approach isn't at all biblical.  

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My family's (Bob, Darlene & I) involvement in First Baptist Church Jackson, being pastored then by Dr. Frank Pollard (throughout the '80s), was pivotal.  This church taught / nourished both my parents and myself (throughout my "growing up" years), meeting each of us where we were as individuals.  No doubt, it was / has been a foundational life-changing experience for each of us.

Bob & Darlene (my parents) were completely spiritually hands-off as parents, and this was because they simply didn't feel comfortable mentoring their only child in that regard.  Mostly, that discomfort was rooted in neither of them having the necessary spiritual / biblical foundation to execute, taking into account their youth (both of them were teenagers when I was born).

And this is where our church (First Baptist Church Jackson) mightily stood in the gap, on their behalf.

Whether it was Sunday School, youth ministry, college ministry, worship services, youth choir involvement, youth ministry trips*, youth ensemble involvement / experiences - all of these week after week after week - MADE A DECIDED IMPACT ON ROB.

*I was lassoed in by the gospel during the summer before my 7th grade year in Mount Lebanon, TX.

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Lastly, I know too there are parents out there who encourage their teenagers to be involved within a church's youth ministry (of their choosing) sans their parents.  But I would argue that this isn't the same setup as what I experienced.

Most teenagers who attend church regularly are doing so alongside their parents / grandparents / guardians.  This is the norm, and teenagers benefit from this normalcy.

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In closing, if you're "Fed Up!", I'd argue that it may be best to swallow hard before you jump ship.  The spiritual future of your children / grandchildren / great-grandchildren will no doubt be greatly impacted by your reaction to your feelings about your church.

And let's all remember this truth:  Feelings rarely can be trusted (especially when we're in bondage to chronic sin patterns).

Those Wounds Are No More

Earlier this year, I was appointed to serve on a volunteer board for a local nonprofit.  All of our active board members (6 individuals) had to take part in some overarching (annual) training yesterday, (4/29), and that training grouped us together with a number of other "affiliate (localized - statewide) boards" that duly represent this national org throughout the Magnolia State.

The training was most of the day, starting around 8 AM at a local community college's workforce training center, and overall, there were around 50 volunteers present, representing most regions of Mississippi.

Within the first minute or two of finding my seat, I realized the former Human Resources Director from Delta State University (the institution I was terminated from in September of 2013 for breaking their IT policy) had also sat down.  Her table was at a 90-degree angle to my own, therefore I was literally within her direct line of sight.  No doubt she was there representing the Cleveland, MS affiliate as a volunteer board member herself.

I hadn't seen this woman but for just a few short minutes since my termination, and that was in 2015, therefore A LOT of water had passed under the bridge since then.

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This past Thursday, (4/28) during my weekly "Make Thursdays Great Again" virtual Samson Society meeting, an old friend (I met him at Lakeside Pres in '09) also attended.  Having never had anyone else from Mississippi join this virtual group, it was so cool having him there.  Especially considering his abode is only +/-3 miles from my own here in Rankin County (where he too was Zooming in).

Mr. Justin Schwind, "Make Thursdays Great Again" facilitator, made my invited friend feel welcome, and as usual, it was a great Samson Society meeting (+/-25 attendees) with the word being "false self".

What's really special about this is me, taking into account how long I've sang the praises of Samson Society to this friend, is now seeing both his schedule (allowing him to participate) and desire coalescence.

Too, this man was the first parishioner at Lakeside Presbyterian Church that I told my story to.  And as a result, he didn't shun me.  In fact, the opposite actually occurred which was very unexpected at the time.

As such, for many years, he and I would make a point to supplement our time together at church with a lunch or two, on occasion, but after the Turners' return from Cleveland, MS (immediately following my termination in 2013), I found that his life circumstances had ratcheted up considerably.  That combined with my shame over what had gone down in the immediate past, made for an easy series of excuses to leave him be.

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I immediately rose from my seat and made my way over to my former Delta State University colleague.  Today, this woman is in her mid to late 60s, and as I was doing so, I remembered sending her an apology letter (not long after my termination and subsequent return to the Jackson Metro) where I revealed how intimidating she was to Rob.

Yesterday morning, she wasn't intimidating in the least.  In fact, she actually looked really tired.  Almost to the point of concern.  

It took her a few seconds to recognize me (my stick-on name tag helped) before she cracked her stock wry smile.  We spoke our pleasantries, and then I returned to my seat, nary a blip in increased blood pressure.  

Surprisingly, I didn't think one additional thought about her from that point forward.  

Throughout the all-day training class, with her sitting just a few feet from me, it was as if we'd almost never worked together during that very challenging year of my life.

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After the "Make Thursdays Great Again" virtual Samson Society meeting concluded (around 8 PM CST), I sent my old Mississippi friend a few follow-up text messages before signing off for the evening.

And just a quick sidenote:  Earlier this week, I was really missing some of the face-to-face Samson guy interactions I've had conveniently available to me in the past.  As such, I felt God speak into my life regarding this, reminding me to trust him with it completely.

Of course, I have to wonder where all of this is leading with my newly reconnected Mississippi friend.  Will he take to Samson Society as I did - long-term?  Is the timing truly right for him to in this regard?  What about our friendship?  Will it blossom further, for such a time as this?  

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Having had the powerfully humbling experience I had Friday with my former colleague from DSU, I wouldn't be able to doubt God with my decried needs (nor my aforementioned questions) even if I tried.

It is remarkable how closely our God knows our true self, mediates for us, heals us.

My faith continues to grow as he demonstrates his hands-on care for Rob.  His love for me is more real than it's ever been, and I can only have expectant hope for more to come.

Happy Easter!

 Happy Easter!

Lagniappe

We Know That Jesus Ascended Into Heaven +/-30 Days After His Resurrection, & That Now He's Seated At The Right Hand Of God, The Father. Considering That Biblical Truth, Wherein Lies His Humanity Today?

The older I get, the more I appreciate / feel at peace with my God-given 49-year-old physical body, and thereby am less focused on others' (bodies).  It's embarrassing to reminiscence on just how consumed I was - as my younger self - with certain others' bodies (hot, athletically-built guys), but as a highly visual guy, I'm of the opinion that I was not the exception (my sexuality notwithstanding).

Looking at others and seeing physical beauty in a person's body / face, whether it's the entire package or a portion therein, always felt very, very wrong - morally - to be doing.  But I was a naive "kid in a candy store" as a found myself growing from boy to man.  With zero direct fatherly guidance, much less a sounding board to respectfully query during my adolescence, my self-image took a double beating.  The repetitiveness of which only served to promulgate further my obsession with seemingly everyone else's culturally normalized masculinity - to my own's detriment.

Exacerbating all of this internal loathing was '80s / early '90s entertainment (television / film / periodicals).  And, of course, I was not alone.  Most everyone within that time period was tracking similarly as the American public was captivated culturally by the wild, wild West Coast's photographed propaganda.

Taking all of this into account, every bit of this - as described here - was / is directly involving my humanity.  No doubt, this represents a sizable part of Rob.

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At some point during my mid-30s, I happened upon (thanks to the www) one very unexpected Christian celebrity pastor.  On the surface, it was this man's amazing communications skills combined with his decidedly masculine looks / swagger that truly piqued my interest.  Never had I seen nor heard a pastor quite like this Mark Driscoll (who just happened to also be my age).

But now, whilst looking back, what I truly believe I was drawn to was 

1) his brooding outrage / disgust with so much that he'd been subject to within his own Americanized '80s (Pacific Northwest) upbringing (of which I could directly relate to).  

2) the man's potential, which far exceeded his ability to preach.

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Before proceeding, an important special bulletin (for those of you whose own experience with Mars Hills Church - Pastor Mark's former - continues to muddy the emotional waters).  This is such a wonderful response to that situation from October of 2014.  

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Why are these two items important, and how do they pertain to the questions posed within this blog post?  Much less, my relationship with my own humanness.    

Humanity's primary definer is limitations.  We are finite, fleshly beings who live / breathe for a season / during a season here on Earth.  As such, we grow and become during that season.  Hence, so much of our (internally) known / recognized identity comes from that growing / becoming.  

Jesus, according to Scripture, grew as well and eventually became the man who was baptized by his cousin before ministering nonstop ('till his death / resurrection) to the masses.  

Pastor Mark Driscoll preached / preaches incessantly about Jesus, and it was apparent that through that preaching, he resonated deeply with the Jesus presented within the gospels combined with the portion of Jesus he saw (& could relate to) within himself (his own God-imaged humanity).  

As such, the outcome of all of this was extremely compelling to his parishioners.  And I believe that compelling was indirectly (subconsciously) fueled by the two items I cited earlier within this post.  Let's review them again.

1) his brooding outrage / disgust with so much that he'd been subject to within his Americanized '80s (Pacific Northwest) upbringing.  

2) the man's potential which far exceeded his ability to preach.

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I believe - as Mark Driscoll preached - that Jesus was both deeply sympathetic to humanity's plight (physical illnesses / disabilities, disastrous consequences / outcomes and the ensuing heartache) combined with his overwhelming disdain for the Hebrew culture (keyword) that took advantage of people - in order to establish a religiously entitled class structure.   

Yet, Jesus neither had (was forced) to care about any of this, nor was he relegated to serve and ultimately die.  

His humanity demonstrated that, yet he very much desired for this to be part of his narrative.

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One of the dumbest aspects of comic book superheroes is how utterly unbelievable / unrealistic they behave morally.  If there were mutants or meta-humans or aliens who looked like humans on Earth, of which could read minds or fly or were super strong, etc., each and every one of them would take full advantage of their superiority relative to everyone else.  As such, they would rule all of us with an iron fist (fear), exploiting our inferiority to them.  

And this is an especially true reality -taking into account - how corrupt we are as a human-beings.  For they would easily find credence to repeatedly punish us via their adjudicatory whimsy.  

There are a whole lotta Christians out there who've dedicated their lives to the pastorate, the mission field - in spite of - their gifting of leadership, work ethic, creativity, etc.  As such, their "plight" makes no sense if you consider their potential.  

This is one of the most brutally consequential realities of the Christian faith.  And it cannot be brushed aside because it precisely aligns with Jesus himself - as he was presented in the gospels.  

In the end, it's a praiseworthy, mind-blowing element of faith.  Faith that runs counter to / best manages our God-imaged yet very fallen humanity.

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So what is Jesus' humanity demanding of him today?  Does he still require sleep, food, somewhere to relieve himself?  Do his sex organs still function (erections)?  Is he sneezing on occasion?  Is his hair (head / beard) regularly groomed, per his liking?  

If the answer to these questions wasn't of course, then you'd not have men like Mark Driscoll.  Mark Driscoll, who though not perfect (by a long shot), certainly has / does continue to humanly impact the world for Christ in conjunction with the perspective he's gained via Christ's humanity.  

Lagniappe

Mother To Child: "You're Responsible For My Feelings. You're to Blame / To Be Celebrated For Me Feeling __________."

I referenced within an earlier post how important it can be that I keep a lid on my emotions here at the homestead (around my wife / daughters), and how that approach has, in the past (pre-Samson Society involvement), been detrimental to me successfully steering clear of lustful fantasies (supplemented by porn consumption or not) from the standpoint of using said fantasies as an emotional enema.   

But I'd like to expound on this a bit from the standpoint of what exactly my wife is forced to emotionally manage day in and day out.

And I want to do this because you may be able to relate either as a husband or wife relative to the dynamics of our situation.

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Firstly though, it's important that you know that my wife's mother is a widow whom lives just 7-8 miles from our abode.  She "stays" (as black people put it) within the same home Angie (who's now 50) and her brother (who's now 46) were reared in (in Jackson) throughout the majority of their school years (as students of Jackson Academy).  

This home was mortgaged by her parents, all those years ago, due to her father moving his brood back here from Hattiesburg - in response to an unexpected job loss - out of necessity to take another job.

This job loss and subsequent move no doubt (as it's been described to me) represented a major demotion for Angie's dad, and as such, her mother went off the deep end as a result.  And when I say went off the deep end, I mean she went batshit crazy over his job loss / demotion.

It's important to know that when I unexpectedly lost my job back in 2013, Angie was very intentional about staying emotionally / physically supportive of our family in spite of the obvious embarrassment / shame that manifested itself as a result.  And I must say, had she not been such a steely, consistently hopeful presence within our family's life during that dark season, I would surely not have endured the situation.  Angie reacted as such the contrarian - for her family - in response to what she'd witnessed from her own mother as a child (within a somewhat similar scenario).

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Emotional "flare ups", as I call them, do occur within our household, and more often than not, they're due to the inevitable internal dynamics between my wife and any number of our daughters.  There's a boatload of estrogen there, therefore...

I try hard to take them in stride, but there are times when I too, need to exhaust some emotions out of frustration / fatigue.

But when I do, and it's within earshot of my wife, this represents a problem for her.

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Angie's middle / high school years were filled with emotional torment.  Torment that put her (& her brother) squarely within the sights of her mother's penchant for refusing to take responsibility for her own feelings.  Therefore, Angie's default, even today as a 50-year-old wife / mother, is to blame herself for everyone else's feelings / state of mind.  Even if said feelings in no way involve her.  

It is the weirdest phenomena to experience, yet we're all so used to it, that it's become the norm.

So, here's the interesting part to all of this.

Angie's mother is a fiercely independent woman, yet she's now reached a point, due to advanced age, that she can no longer manage her affairs.  And this means, someone needs to step up.  Someone she should be able to trust (like her deeply scarred children).

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As Christians, we're called to serve.  Go the extra mile.  Turn the other cheek.  And Angie, for sure, learnt that growing up at First Baptist Church Jackson (alongside me). 

Jesus modeled all of these (as chronicled within the gospels) and FBC Jackson's senior pastor throughout the '80s (when she & I were children) both lived it out and preached it eloquently.

Yet, no amount of obedience to the commands of Jesus can come sans the supernatural.  Especially when that call to obedience happens to involve those whose hands have doled out their fair share of trauma.

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Dr. Laura Schlessinger often makes good sense whilst giving advice to her radio show listeners, but it's important to note that she is not a Christian.  As such, were she in my wife's shoes today, her mother's former emotional abuse would result in payback that consisted of a reciprocal neglect later in life.  I know this because it's one of my hang ups regarding her approach to advising her callers.  (Plus, she also lived this out with her own mother.)

Dr. Schlessinger often justifies this kind of response as one which stems from "mom tearing up her mother card".  In other words, mother's disqualifying themselves due to their neglect, therefore deserving to be forever punished by their children as a result.

It's a hardline, militant approach that completely ignores the prospect / joy of potential reconciliation, and one of the best slang terms that I've found for this is delightfully "burning bridges".

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One of my oldest friends just recently returned to the Jackson Metro after being terminated from a fantastic job opportunity within another state.  His former out-of-state employer is also a friend of mine / ours, therefore as you might imagine, this put me in quite the emotional quagmire.  And to make matters much worse (for everyone involved), my friend, who just recently moved back to Jackson, chose to burn the bridge between himself and our mutual friend (his former out-of-state employer) out of disgust regarding the situation that transpired.

And this man has served as a deacon in a number of local churches.

His rationale for behaving this way was rooted in one thing:  his feelings.  Feelings which consisted of outrage, disillusionment, mistrust, and so forth.  And I get that.  Those feelings are legitimate and deserve to be accounted for.

Yet, I disagree with his decision to blame others for those feelings, and in turn, punish them therein.  Especially when those others have such a longstanding track record of support and love.

As Christians, our overarching focus should be, each and every day, on eternity.  Eternity obtained via our inevitable death.  Eternity where Jesus is within our presence always.  

Why?

As our king (today and on into eternity), emulating his humility and care properly befits us as representatives of his grace.  Even within the most accusatory, unfair, debilitating circumstances that embroil us with heady, visceral emotions.

We are not our own.  We are now serving within his ranks.  Heaven will be ours to enjoy because of what he chose to emulate for us.  Christians are not to behave / react / enact like everyone else.

Lagniappe

How The Ease Of Access (www) To Gay Porn Changed The Course Of My Life (Sans A Buzz From Booze)

My first Silas had / has an addiction to alcohol (& porn) that resulted (2015) in him receiving his first (& only) DUI whilst traveling for work within beautiful Louisiana.  Interestingly enough, it was his son who'd originally attended a Samson Society meeting, and as such, this fortunate juncture (between his son and the First Baptist Church Jackson Samson Society group) resulted in the perfectly timed referral. 

Years ago, a client of mine from north Mississippi admitted too to receiving a DUI (also his first & only).  I couldn't help but ask him for permission to tell my story in response to his quagmire (he'd just applied for some individual insurance coverage via my family business), and thankfully, he was open to that.  From there, I asked about his porn use, and this question took him aback.  I asked specifically if it was chronic - to any degree - whatsoever.  He stated that he only used porn whilst drinking alcohol, and this piqued my interest as to the deeply effective means alcohol has of lowering one's inhibitions.

Me being a teetotaler - in contrast to my first Silas' lifelong relationship with alcohol (& subsequently porn) - forced me to do a lot of soul searching relative to what exactly was behind my chronic use of online smut.  For I wasn't under the influence of any drug whilst consuming, yet I had no inherent revulsion to it.  Instead, it was almost as if I'd literally struck gold.

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Gay porn is photos / videos of men having sex with either themselves or each other, and having lived within Mississippi all of my life, I'd never witnessed this 'till the Internet came on the scene in the late '90s.  It's heady stuff that's repulsive to many men, but not all.  Before I encountered it online, I'd only imagined sexual activity between men, but I'd never witnessed any version of it - live or Memorex.  Therefore, the Internet opened a doorway for me that should never have been opened, yet because of that exposure, many good outcomes were the result as I'll describe in short order.

Two powerfully evocative emotional responses happened at once when this door was opened for Rob.

1.  I no longer felt alone as a man with my particular sexuality.

2.  I was mesmerized by the infinite amount of pornographic imagery available online combined with the unbelievable beauty and captivating nature of those images.

What number 1 primarily did for me was invoke deep seated sadness and confusion that was rooted in how obviously vulnerable men like myself were to sexual sin and exploitation.  All the while, number 2 spurred me on to consume, consume, consume.  As if I was making up for lost time / opportunity.  Combining these two was heart wrenching for me to take.  For I consistently realized that I was neither helping myself nor these gay porn models in the process.

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I was working at an architecture firm back in the late '90s when all of this Internet porn exposure came to fruition within my life.  And the work was interesting and rewarding, but when Angie and I had our first daughter, I needed an additional job to make our budget work each month (she chose to become a stay-at-home mom).  That side job came in the form of janitorial work (at the same architecture firm I was employed at full-time).  This, combined with a horribly demonic newborn baby girl (who didn't sleep completely through the night 'till she was well over one-year-old), did nothing to stave off my thirst for Internet gay porn.  

These were back during the days of dial-up Internet access, therefore we're talking here about very constricted consumption compared to today.  Nonetheless, even this slow-as-molasses access was enough to wrangle me into a seriously emotionally drained mess - day after day - as it harkened back to what I described above.

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The first sizable course correction for me - which came as a result of the ease of access to Internet gay porn - was my desire to find a job that would relinquish me from sitting in front of a computer all day doing nothing more than repetitive grunt / layman's work.  It wasn't that I minded grunt work nor looked down on it.  In actuality, grunt work was peaceful and low, low stress.  But, I couldn't give it the focus I needed to with an Internet browser icon staring back at me seductively.  

Therefore, this resulted in me taking the necessary risks involved in moving jobs, and for Rob, this just happened to result in a move from the private to the public sector.  And this move enabled me to embrace a much more administrative role that was anything but repetitive.  And I really loved and felt proud to be doing this work (for my home state, no doubt) as a 34-year-old Mississippi architect.

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The second sizable course correction for me had to do with courage.  Seeing the scores of naked men participating in all manner of sexually charged poses / activities inspired me to cease hiding what my true needs were.  I believe that the majority of gay sex - whether it's photographed or not - is an outgrowth of men needing / longing for community at its most basic, animalistic, instinctual level.  Men emote most efficiently in and through sexual activity of any ilk.  This is how God made us.

I've heard stories from young Samson guys who've experienced difficult heterosexual romantic breakups, and as a result, driven to NOLA in order to frequent gay bars in pursuit of hookups.  Hookups to placate their implied "now & forever" loneliness funk.  This may sound extreme, but it points back to men's "special connection" between their brain's emotional core and their genitals.

Too, during this time, I was happily married, yet not known - truly known - by any other men.  

Therefore, I began looking online for a friend.  Someone that God might bring my way who could relate to Rob's situation / identity.  And that person came in the form of an Aussie name Scott who blessed me tremendously with his loyalty and encouragement as a Christian friend for +/-18 exuberantly joy-filled months.  From there, I began to talk about my story with more and more Christian (and eventually pagan) men.  Thankfully, the reactions I received were supportive and helpful if not completely demonstrative of genuine respectfulness towards my situation.  This, in turn, convinced me to expand my horizons that much further.

Eventually, I did find that just having one, two or three men - in the know - regarding my story, wasn't enough.  The circle needed to be ever widened.  Hence, I began blogging, and that's when The Architect's Garage blogspot was born.  By the time that blog (5-year lifespan) gained traction online, I was having close to +/-75 visitors (hits) a day from readers all over the globe.  It was a phenomenally effective and super convenient mouthpiece for Rob and his unique story.

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The third sizable course correction for me had to do with my physical health.  Gay porn blatantly reminded me that men were image bearers of God, therefore there was a responsibility there to take care of one's physical self.  At age 36, I began strength training regularly, and at age 37 or 38, I segued  into combining that with distance running.  As a result, my physical body changed for the better alongside my health.  Plus, it gave me credence to work towards overcoming my anxiety relative to the gym / locker rooms.  And over time, I did overcome that anxiety by God's grace, but it was not at all easy.  

On the flip side of this, I absolutely DID NOT go overboard here.  I knew by overdoing it, (more than twice a week in the gym) I would torpedo my goal of lifelong longevity.  And though I'm likely not the sexiest, swolest guy as a result, that's okay.  Consistency / longevity should be every man's end goal when it comes to physical fitness.  Not specific results or gains.  I believe this wholeheartedly.

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The fourth sizable course correction for me had to do with constraints.  Gay porn opened my eyes to just how certain situations weren't workable - on any level - for Rob, no matter how hard I tried to make them work.  And this pointed back to my vocation.  In particular, the setting therein.  

I experience a sort of emotional nirvana whilst surrounded by men (very similar to a much greater degree to the short circuit available via the consumption of gay porn), and this state of mind allows me, at times, to clearly see myself.  And this is AWESOME.  Yet, though these experiences are fantastic, they take their toll if they're prolonged.  Why?  This state of emotional connection with men allows me to see / feel what they're seeing / feeling, therefore these experiences must be rationed.  Otherwise, I get overwhelmed to the point that I can't process much of anything except what these other individuals have given me the opportunity to "upload".  Because of this, I've been dubbed "highly sensitive".  Perhaps that's a true descriptor.  Whatever it is, I cannot handle certain situations but for very controlled lengths of time before I need to return to my sarcophagus.  Alone.

In summary, too much of this masculine groupthink results in me experiencing emotional overload, and when I reach that state of mind, I'm unable to find my center under just about any circumstance.

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Do I thank God for Internet gay porn?  No, of course not.  But I do believe he's used something meant for so much evil to my advantage.  At least relative to my refinement as a man.

Many years ago, I had an online Christian friend who explained to me how his participating in a handful of gay sex trysts had firsthand opened his eyes to the abnormalcy of homosexual practices.  Now, I realized then as well as now that hearing this wasn't / shouldn't give license for me (or other Christian men) to sin.  Instead, it was speaking to the sovereignty of God - even over evil itself.  And it encouraged me to recognize that shame must not become so consuming that it blinds us to God's goodness and faithfulness even within the hardest of places to discuss / admit to / ruminate over.  

God is no prude.  He's not the church lady.  Plus, he's knows how terribly vulnerable we are here within this fallen world of ours, and I believe we forget how sensitive he is to that truth.  Therefore, never underestimate how holistically clever he truly can be within his pursuit of your heart / faithfulness to him.  It is mind boggling to chronicle, if you'll just take the time to do so.

Men Trending Underneath The Banner Of Disappointment / Frustration

All of us experience disappointment and frustration.  It's a result of having expectations and those expectations not being met.  As a man in my early 30s, I vividly recall the last 2-3 years of my tenure at an architectural firm here in Jackson.  I was extremely disappointed in so much (multifaceted) of what that job represented to me at that point in time, and in fact, I was also using that disappointment as an excuse / fuel to sin (in the form of chronic lust via Internet porn use).

But too, combined with all this, was how circumstantially I'd found myself tempted to sin (at work).  Therefore, all of that made for a very challenging few years there at that particular place of employment.

As a result of all this, I knew I needed to move on.  So much so, in fact, that I even looked (& prepared) for an entirely new vocation away from architecture entirely.

And this is where disappointment and frustration can be productive, helpful tools of God, teaching and guiding us through firsthand experience.

From there, a state government job came to fruition, and though it was far from perfect, I banked my appreciation of my new job on what I absolutely did not miss from my previous one.  And this is how disappointment / frustration should and certainly can work to one's advantage.

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But what of those individuals who tend to stay within a consistent loop of disappointment / frustration?  Perhaps pertaining to far more than their work.  What if this bent towards disappointment / frustration revolves around many, if not all, of the relationships they are part of?  Also, what if it applied to their church?  Their marriage?  And so forth.

Over the past few decades, we've come to be more and more dependent / expectant of the ubiquity of customization - down to every minutiae - relative to every aspect of our lives.  From the food we eat to the clothes we wear to the people we interact with to the gender / hair / eye color of the child (invitro fertilization) we choose to parent.  And this is all quite gee whiz, but what comes alongside all of this opportunity for customization also comes two things.  One, the tendency to be disenfranchised quite easily - with all manner of things, and two, the powerfully impressionable notion that IT'S ALL ABOUT MY NEEDS / MY DESIRES / MY WANTS and how they're specifically being met.

Thusly creating some men who tend to gravitate towards disappointment / frustration as their default.  All the freaking time.  Kinda like having a toddler's outlook.

Therefore, these cyclical feelings of disappointment / frustration become the norm for them (& everyone they interact with), therefore circumstantial maturation may be thwarted due to this juvenile outlook regarding just about everything.

As such, for those of us who endear towards these individuals - friends / spouses / children, we're put in a tough spot.  For we know if we question this temperamental cycle of disappointment / frustration, we may very well be labeled reflexively, and from there, cast aside as "yesterday's disappointing / frustrating mistake".  

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I find that guys who're within the camp that I've described above are often habitual justifiers relative to porn, drug, alcohol usage because of this predisposition towards disappointment / frustration.  

I hurt to see guys - seemingly programmed by our few decades past gee whiz culture - to have a modus operandi as such.  

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Yesterday, I had a friend ask me over lunch if I'd take the opportunity - if given - to have my homosexual urges removed forever.  This is a difficult question to both ask and answer.  I told him no, I wouldn't.  And my rationale for that choice is twofold.  Firstly, I've already asked repeatedly (when I was a teenager), and they didn't cease to be.  Secondly, as a result of that, it taught me to build upon that particular long-term disappointment / frustration, changing my outlook permanently.  

And what I mean by that is recognizing how particularly wonderful being burdened / neutered - so to speak - truly can be.  For you learn to trust in Christ to carry your brokenness both figuratively and literally (at times), and as a result it serves as a constant reminder of why we were called to be Christians in the first place (to surrender ourselves wholeheartedly & in turn serve others in lieu of ourselves).   

From there, situations / individuals who end up not meeting my / our expectations, I find, are given more grace than they otherwise would be.  For I too was / am shown grace that originated initially in me being lassoed in by the gospel of Jesus Christ in tandem with my conviction relative to my chronic sin.

In closing, one other positive attribute to being consistently disabled by some version of a spiritual thorn is how it forces you / us to make peace with your pain.  Oftentimes, I believe, those who're predisposed to disappointment / frustration seem to be hyper-sensitive to discomfort / pain, and therefore tend to look immediately for some version of an escape in tandem with chronic complaining.

I'm not sure where this hyper sensitivity comes from, but it reeks of immaturity.  

May God help us all to properly differentiate between fully communicative (& therefore) helpful disappointment / frustration and that which is simply a kneejerk reaction to circumstances that bring us / take us into a season not necessarily of our choosing.

Lagniappe

What Does / Will A Life Filled With Good Works Say About You?

Within our present-day culture, I believe it will set you apart from the majority, therefore within certain circumstances, you will be elevated (popularity / respect) dramatically within the eyes of your fellow man.  As such, regarding Christianity (assuming that's the foundation of your life), there's an opportunity there, or maybe a better way to put it is an obligation there to communicate why / what exactly is (Jesus / Holy Spirit) behind all of this good behavior.

I call this approach to manhood, here within our western culture, the Andy Griffith / Michael Landon ideal.  It's this notion that men can be and should be - to be a man, particularly an American man - deeply, deeply grounded in working diligently on behalf of everyone else as a means of always looking out for their best interests.  And as such, most everything (grown out of that) will hopefully conclude with reward(s) and never suffering.  Never more harm.  Never regret.  And expectedly, your standing in the community (& bank account) will proportionally elevate as a result!

Therefore, if you die young (& this is your MO), "sainthood" may soon follow while all of us left behind - spouse, children, friends, and so forth deeply mourn our loss of all that model behavior you graced us with.  

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This past week, I was made aware of just such a forecasted saint.  A man who I had the privilege to know from past vocational experience (when I was working for the state of MS) many years ago.

Teddy was literally the ideal man.  Handsome, caring, intelligent, articulate, well educated, credentialed.  His confidence emanated naturally from his pores.  And what humility!  All and all, he was so very seemingly perfect in every way.  Like Jesus with skin on.  Literally.

Therefore, having not known of his early death during Q1 of 2021 (for I would have virtually attended the memorial service), I went searching for his obituary online.

And what I found there left me thinking an awful lot about what truly motivates a man to behave as he does (particularly amidst other people).

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Jack Lewis argued that "good men" overall are easier to see converted to Christianity, but on the opposing side of that argument, I've heard men claim (back during the Promise Keepers' days of the '80s and '90s) that men with "pasts" are often more devout / committed once obtaining faith in Jesus Christ.  And that the latter case makes for a more "qualified" Christian man.  

For example, if you were to follow that argument, a pagan man who'd cheated repeatedly on his spouse, spent a few years behind bars, and was heavy into drugs and alcohol prior to being converted would be defined as a more comprehensive Christian as a result.  And there are plenty of those who'd argue too that conversion would be just as easy, if not easier, for this poor sinner.

The Bible presents God as a expectant father figure.  Particularly regarding obedience to his commands.  And, of course, all of that expected obedience falls on his children (who rely on the Holy Spirit to assist them with this).  The Bible also states that man is conscious of God's existence.  And this makes sense because of how we're intrinsically rationale, curious beings who long for questions to be answered like - Who am I?  What's my purpose?  What is the meaning of life?  Who created me?  Why do I exist? - and so forth.

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Many years ago, I sat through a day-long lighting design workshop down at the Old Capitol Inn.  From what I remember, the event was fairly well executed and attended despite the mundane topic.  But what did help to liven things up was the unique relationship between the presenters - that being, they were married.  Now, this was a number of decades ago, and as such, particularly here in Mississippi, there weren't many husband / wife business partnerships to speak of - at least within the design / planning realm.  

As the workshop day drug on, the temperatures dramatically rose out of doors, therefore the close quarters our small class was being held within also began to heat up proportionally.

I was seated in the very back of the narrow, makeshift classroom and feeling a bit claustrophobic, therefore I was grateful to see the event conclude when it did.  

As I'd always done (& continue to do), I then dutifully made my way to the podium to thank the presenters.  But midway to my destination, I was hit by a stench of ammonia-laced body odor that intensely burned my nose hairs / brought tears to my eyes.  Nonetheless, I was too late to turn back, for the husband speaker had seen me coming his way to speak / ask questions there at the conclusion.

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My youngest daughter is an angel from heaven.  Literally.  This child is not only physically beautiful, but her spirit is just off the charts - loving, caring, and all those words that make you a little sick to your stomach if you think about them for too long.  

On occasion, She and I dialogue about her pending conversion to Christianity, and oftentimes, the root of these questions are centered on her wanting to be like her big sisters (particularly in regards to being permitted to take communion at church).  The emphasis on my reasoning (patriarchal observation) for her not being yet lassoed in by the gospel of Jesus Christ isn't related to her wonderfully obedient behavior.  Instead, it's tied to her not being privy to her depravity / sin as an eleven year-old girl.  At least on any measurable scale.

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So, let's return to my now deceased middle-aged, soon to be sainted friend.  

His obituary eviscerates any notion of born-againess.  As such, there's no mention of a higher power of any sort.  Really, in many ways, it truly pays homage to he himself as a godman.  

Therefore, were heaven truly an earned affair, he was no doubt qualified to enter in via performance here on Earth alone.

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I cannot describe how difficult it was to traverse those final 8 to 10 steps to the front of the makeshift classroom there within the Old Capitol Inn.  And not only because of the horrendous stench, but due to the empathy I had for this bearded lighting designer's wife (who was now working feverishly to pack up their belongings).  

It didn't take me long to realize the narrative relative to the stench emanating from him.  

Likely, their presentation prep had been procrastinated.  Thusly, the preceding late night effort had severely intruded on needed rest.  From there, he overslept that AM, didn't have time to shower, and forgot too to re-apply deodorant to those thick hairy armpits.  Complicating matters was the slow warming of the classroom space (w/ little to no HVAC air movement) we'd been assigned as the day's temps rose dramatically.  Not to mention the three-piece suit he was wearing, which only served to further bake his dirty bod.  

There was one other attendee in front of me prior to my having the opportunity to thank the husband presenter with a firm architect's handshake.  Taking a gander at the presenter's brow (from over the shoulder of the colleague in front of me), I could now clearly see the beads of sweat.  My heart sank for him at that moment.  For all anyone would likely remember of that six-hour affair, that they'd worked so hard to pull off, was his monumental, gag-reflexing BO. 

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The Bible commands God's children to glorify their heavenly father through their faith in him.  How?  This faith bears fruit, and that fruit promulgates good works.  Therefore, it is Christ in us that's making that happen and thusly, getting all the credit. 

But becoming one of God's children involves a rebirth of ourselves.  And that rebirth (of the Spirit) is tied to our knowledge and then faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  And that faith is a gift to those God elects.  

When this faith is ignited within us, it is our re-birth.  For our eyes are opened to just how imperfect we truly are in contrast to how perfect Jesus Christ truly is (through our understanding of him).

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You and I will rub shoulders with a handful of Andy Griffiths and Michael Landons (not his real name) throughout our lives along with many who aspire to be.  And these seemingly perfect business owners, husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, friends can be awe inspiring and intimidating to behold.  But, rest assured, if you track the ministry of Jesus within the gospel accounts, the Messiah didn't pay much heed to these gents.  Instead, he was much more interested in those who were far from knocking life out of the ballpark.

This knowledge of Jesus is what resonated with me as a boy.  For I was far, far more relatable to those men overall.  In summary, I stunk.  Big time.

Focus On The Dignity Shown You

As Christian men, we really can't think / quantify / qualify our sin enough.  There should never be a concluding statement or last chapter.  Qualifying our sin is like shaving.  It's procedural and ongoing.  And I would argue, for every man, it should be important enough to do regularly.

As a sidenote, I like to grow my stubble out for 3-5 days before shaving it clean off, loving that baby's bottom smoothness throughout my face / neck which results.  

We can't see our God's faithfulness unless we do this.  And to be more exact, we can't see God's dignified faithfulness unless we do this.  

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A good father treats his children with dignity.  That's just a given.  God also personifies this behavior as our heavenly father.  And he does this despite him knowing exactly who we are, warts and all.  

In contrast to this is our relationship with our own (biological) father's finite knowledge / understanding of us.   

My children (particularly my oldest two) intentionally stay at arms length from me most of the time.  They're budding young adults, and as such, I must respect their need for "wriggle room" (privacy).  Nonetheless, I do keep a close eye and work to be intentional about fathering them well.  And as such, I do not shy away from disclosing my personal regrets relative to my own sinful behavior when I feel so moved / am prompted by the Holy Spirit.  

As God's children, we're 100% in his view.  His eye is fixed on us 24/7/365.  And as such, he sees our hearts.  Yet he doesn't reject nor disqualify us.  And shaming us is impossible.  As our God, none of those things compute with his purpose (to redeem us).

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Be encouraged today to recommit to the work involved in best understanding yourself, and whilst doing so, inhale the truth of how much dignity your heavenly father has shown you despite his omniscience.  Dignity is personalized care that demonstrates love to its fullest. 

Remember, beards are overrated.  Go ahead and expose that flesh.  Air it out.  Show it off.  And enjoy that baby bottom smoothness.