Help Me Lord With These Feelings

Greek yogurt is yogurt that's essentially in a concentrated form.  It's like drinking orange juice concentrate in lieu of fresh squeezed orange juice.  If you've ever eaten it, its consistency is like that of spackle, therefore as such, it's a much less appealing dairy treat to most than traditional Yoplait.  

If you were to consider the ingredients of Greek yogurt, you'd find a LOT more milk is needed to concoct it than its much less pricey (& mainstream) cousin.

The benefit to choosing Greek yogurt though over regular is the added nutrition.  It's like running versus walking (for the same period of time) relative to the exercise benefits.  Of course, running is much harder (I love to hate to run) than walking, and similarly, Greek yogurt is much less palatable (sans added sugars) compared to regular yogurt.

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My first Silas (pre-Samson Society) came into my life sometime during 2010, and it wasn't long before he made an insightful statement that made quite the impact.  And that was that I felt things deeply.  Deeper than most, if not every individual he'd befriended within the past.  

I didn't dispute his claim for deep down I think I'd always known this about myself, yet it was unsettling to consider.

When I was a teenager, I banked all of my emotions into popular music.  My pride & joy, back then, was my component audio system - consisting of amplifier, CD player, dual cassette deck, and two Bose speakers (which I still use today).  God love my parents for putting up with the ruckus day in and day out coming from my 110 sf bedroom.  I absolutely have no idea how they stood it within our +/-1,800 sf rancher (their bedroom was adjacent to mine).

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Lakeside Pres is hosting a 2021 fall / spring book study that started yesterday evening, and the selected tome is sort of a modern day encyclopedia of false religions.  Last night's meeting was centered on the theology of Jehovah's Witnesses.  Next month's will be on The Church of Scientology or some such.

As expected, the presentation was affably cerebral in the truest Lakeside Presbyterian fashion, but unexpectedly, taking the subject matter at hand into consideration, I came away feeling quite the hollower for it.  Hence, I felt there was just too little (if any) heart (compassion) whatsoever pertaining to the lost souls indirectly referenced throughout the subject matter.  In spite of the fact that personally, Jehovah's Witnesses are about as familiar to me as Freemasons.  

Needless to say, I'm willing to bet a dollar that D. James Kennedy would have been none too pleased at the tone.  As such, I have to ask myself, why does that matter specifically to me?  

I have to believe it harkens back to Greek yogurt.

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Taking all of this into consideration, me thinks I've spotted a huge misnomer (mistake) relative to the massive pull I have at times towards consuming gay porn, and that may just be the word community.  This being a word I've often utilized in the past to describe some form of justification relative to porn consumption.  Instead, I'm beginning to wonder if this pull has more to do with emotion or feeling and the aforementioned "banking" of said feelings.  

Combined with that, and this almost seems to qualify as weirdly transcendental, could be the notion of concentrating emotionally onto or into the images in an almost empathic manner.  

All that to say, I'm now convinced that its pull is far more emotional than me simply wanting to be communal.  And it likely always has been.

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Moving in a somewhat different direction, though still referencing Rob's (always concentrated) emotional state of mind, I offer this in order to conclude this post:

Dignity is an important, if not the most important term that I find myself always equating to my understanding of / respectfulness towards women.  I'm fortunate to have a mother who's dignified as well as a wife who follows suit.  As such, growing up and then being married to a dignified woman has firmly cemented my point of view.  I pray that my three daughters will someday follow the example of these important ladies.

This factors into why straight porn is so repulsive to me.  The women within these videos / images are so often in line with what I saw at Wal-Mart earlier this week (more on that below), not to mention the disgustingly abusive circumstances they're typically presented within.

All in all, I can think of no more repulsive sight than seeing a woman's face ejaculated on as her blank stare is forever memorialized on camera.  I mean, can you imagine, your daughter's face in that spot without wanting to extradite yourself from planet Earth?  I feel so sorry for the Spielbergs.

To circle back to that woman at Wal-Mart, you should know that she's what served to spearhead this post.  Hence, if you've not taken a liking to what you've read so far, blame her.  

Wal-Mart represents the most convenient, most cost effective means of purchasing just about anything & everything.  Its no-frills approach to retail draws consumers from every walk of life.  Its sister store, Sam's Club, takes an identical approach.  And I frequent both of these retail establishments quite frequently, particularly now that my wife is disabled (traditional grocery stores' footprint is smaller / easier to navigate). 

A few days ago, I spotted a woman moving through the Wal-Mart self-checkout line who was around age 35-40.  She was a white woman, overweight yet average height, and dressed in nondescript clothing that looked shockingly too small for her build.  The shorts she was wearing, in particular, were cut so short and were so tight, that they actually looked painful to my eyes.  Her hair looked like it had been cut with a weed whacker after it had been formed into a handful of dreadlocks that extended down her back.  To add to that, snippets of pastel hair dye had been added to these ratty strands which only added to her completely disheveled appearance.  Had she been 18-years-old instead of +/-35 (on Halloween), this look might have been less of a radical embodiment, but she clearly was no longer a teenager (& Halloween is more than a month away).  

And then there was her skin.  It was almost as pale as my sweet wife's, therefore each of the brightly colored, ginormous tattoos that she'd had imprinted squarely on each limb was impossible to miss.  They literally were glowing with color - greens, reds, blues - against her milky derma.  

I could not take my eyes off of this woman while she went through her self-checkout paces.  The shock was too great.  The disbelief too paralyzing.  

As I was walking out of the store, I actually ran into my Silas' wife who recognized me from her car.  We spoke briefly, yet in looking back, I'm sure my responses were no doubt unusual, having just prior witnessed such the unidentifiable alien-like creature.  

This is what kept coming to mind repeatedly for days after:  If we were to turn back the clock 40 years, would I have witnessed a woman presenting herself as such at my local Mississippi big box retailer (TG&Y)?  Were there women that looked like this woman back in 1981 here in Mississippi?

If not, why are they here now?  What "birthed" these women?  What are their origins, and where are they headed?  Why in the world would a woman choose to present herself to the world as this woman was?

To me, they have zero dignity, therefore all I see when I encounter them is me being helpless towards their situation.  For dignity comes from within.  It isn't like respect or shame that's administered (on)to someone.  Dignity is knowing your intrinsic value as a _______, _______, _______, and so forth.  

+/-18 years ago, a lesbian couple constructed a home within our 'hood, and they're still both living there (within a reconstructed version necessitated by a housefire).  My emotional experience relative to engaging with these women was initially in line with what I've described above regarding this fellow Wal-Mart patron.  

Lesbianism is a complete affront to my understanding of feminine dignity, and it always has been.  Therefore, my heart breaks and is angered / outraged / confused whilst seeing it lived out.  

Especially my Greek yogurt heart.  

Help me Lord with these feelings, and to be more specific, synchronize them with your own.  But especially in magnitude.  For I'm so often at their disposal.  Even as a 49-year-old.

Where do I bank these?

Lagniappe

   

Have You Too Been Hoodwinked Into Idolizing The Human Body?

One of the first lessons you learn within the Philosophy Of Architecture class is the most jarring, and that is that beauty IS NOT within the eye of the beholder.  As an architecture student at Mississippi State University from '90-'95, Philosophy Of Architecture was a required course as a sophomore.  Therefore, all of us second year students endured this enlightening experience there during our fall semester.

So obviously, this begs the question:  Who then does decide what's beautiful and what is not?  The critics do.  And these individuals have earned the right to do so.  For a great critic is far more experienced in doing so than non-critics.  They're experienced and educated.  And no, this doesn't always make them right, but it does up the ante relative to their adjudication batting average.  

Therefore, if you're ever wondering why a certain fashion trend is hot, paint color, or kitchen motif, you have only to look to the critics to thank (or loathe) for this.

To sum this up, I'll work to make a present day statement that should resonate with many of you.  Chip and Joanna Gaines built their fortune / influence on their roles as critics.  Though it may seem that their popularity is anchored in their million-watt smiles, it is not.  Instead, both of them are incredibly gifted critics, and this means that their ability to adjudicate beauty - within single-family homes, home furnishings / decor - is off the charts.  And to be as equally weighted as they are, in this regard, as a couple, is rare indeed.  

The Gaines have harnessed this talent by packaging it within a super approachable Texan folksiness that's made them a fortune.  Thanks be to God that their show wasn't dubbed Fix-a-fucker, otherwise, there'd be that many more westerners (& otherwise) - then there already are - saddled with chronic porn consumption issues.

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99% of architecture students (back when I was a student) weren't athletic and very few were involved in Greek life.  But, there was one student who was a couple of years behind me that did serve as a male cheerleader, and as such, donned the mascot ("Bully") costume for a handful of seasons.

As such, this young man was most definitely athletically built, and this made him stand out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of us.  But, it didn't help matters that this physically anomalous student was completely at peace with "exposing" his body.  Therefore, during the spring semester, as the temps were beginning to climb, it wouldn't be unusual to see him out sunning himself within the architecture building amphitheater.  I can remember specifically feeling torn between what he obviously saw as naturally pleasurable versus my own powerful - almost instinctual - urge to idolize his flesh.

Fitness magazines, published for men, which were readily available on magazine stands during the mid-'80s, offered me the opportunity as a middle schooler to idolize those images therein.  And, of course, the publisher didn't care who purchased the periodical or whether someone was idolizing their photos.  All they were interested in was sales.  

I can vividly recall the shame I felt in having to explain to my mother (she couldn't help but notice the grape purple bag) that I'd purchased an "Exercise For Men Only" mag from our local K&B drugstore.  

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Paul Freeman is an Australian photographer whose repertoire is nude or semi-nude men.  And more often than not, the men he photographs aren't within a studio space but within much more naturalistic environments.  If you look at his work, it's apparent that he's a superb critic of the male body, yet the images that he publishes aren't - at least to me - titillating in the least.  

So what separates his work from what I was exposed to as a young boy within the aforementioned fitness mags?

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Pornography's sole purpose is to illicit a titillating response.  Early exposure to porn versus non-pornographic imagery that respectfully celebrates the human body can short circuit a boy's embracing / understanding / appreciation for the beauty that lies within both his own and others' flesh, particularly if he's unsure of his own "fleshly worth".

More often than not, this exposure occurs during adolescence, and as I alluded to earlier, this can be a decidedly unbecoming development within the life of a teenager.  For he knows he's being taken advantage of, yet his hormones (& perhaps his home life, etc.) are seemingly working in favor of this private curse.  It's a bad, bad scenario that's especially prone to screw up a kid's head if it happens to be within a vacuum.

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As a side note, all forms of body augmentation from anabolic steroid use to breast implants to tattoos, I would argue, stem from man's idolization of the body versus appreciation.  And this is because, these augmentations are "permanently" enhancing the body to be more in line with someone else's ideal (either real or photographed).  

For example, an athletically built man who sees an anabolic steroid using athlete is likely going to immediately notice the size differences between his own drug-free body and that of the juiced dude.  Similarly, a woman with regular sized breasts, encountering her artificially endowed sister, can't help but notice her silicone implanted chest.  And finally, an ink-free individual, rubbing shoulders with someone he admires - who happens to be expertly tattooed - may very well soon obtain his own first tattoo.

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So what's the recipe for success in recircuiting our brains to see pornography for what it is (cheap, intrusive, disrespectful, debilitating, harmful, poisonous, toxic, explosive, robbing)?

I would argue the first step is recognizing where you were (& how exactly) initially hoodwinked by Satan to elevate / idolize the human body as you did.  And from there, invest a boatload of time in unpacking that deceit (perhaps alongside a trained professional) prior to working hard to forgive yourself for so much shame and guilt that you really weren't solely responsible for experiencing.

In closing, remember that God created man in his own image (including his sex organs).  We are image-bearers.  God too, created sexuality, from the reproductive process itself to arousal and everything in between.  We are not meant to be ashamed of our sexual desires, nor are we meant to not see each other through a sexual lens.  

Lagniappe

"There So Few Christians There"

My oldest daughter is slated to return to her college dorm later on this afternoon, now having accomplished her initial 3-weeks as a freshman (& being home for this long holiday weekend).  I had breakfast with her on Sunday morning, and she let me know how surprised she was to experience a community of students & faculty - at her chosen university - that was so very (relatively) pagan.

Her response instantaneously returned me to my freshman experience back in the fall of 1990, and back then, I was also "being educated" at a public institution here in Mississippi. 

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Arguably, the college experience's biggest liability is the spiritual vacuum students are so often faced with.  And I'm not referring to curriculum or campus life.  I'm referring to the true influence - peers, professors, etc.

This is, of course, unless the student respectfully recognizes and subsequently maps out her situation, knowing full well whom she belongs to all the while.

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For Rob, it was the architecture school professors, whom I respectfully yielded to, that surprised me the most.  Their outlook was always so clinical and devoid of any sort of eternal perspective.  As such, I would especially appreciate those who'd make a point to smile and crack jokes in order to lighten the ever ominous (who's going to change majors / "double D" next?) mood.

I remember - particularly as a freshman - feeling like I'd been caught up in an entirely different world.  A world of ever present academia, amongst leadership that was far more knowledgeable than anything I'd ever witnessed.  

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But then there was marching band.  What a godsend it was.  I played clarinet and marched with hundreds of other students - every late weekday afternoon for practice and at most weekend football games.  The band directors were down to Earth and no doubt Christian.  Polar opposites of the majority of my professors.

It was there that I could simply exhale (literally) each and every day, no longer having to take notes, worry over project deadlines or professors' expectations.  Instead, it was simply a maximized (massively scaled up) experience of high school band which is where I'd felt most comfortable simply being myself during the previous five years of my life.  

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Samson Society is a similar reprieve for me today.  Tuesday evening (tomorrow night), I'm anticipating attending (for the first time) the Pruitt Baptist Church meeting.  Especially from the standpoint of me not having the honors of facilitating the meeting.  

It's nice having that reprieve.  That opportunity to exhale.  Especially when you're subject to - as we all are - the real world.  A world where there're so few Christians.  I am so thankful God ushered me into this community of men.   

Lagniappe

More lagniappe 

Theology Of The Turners' Bodies (With Particular Attention Paid to My Own)

I described Rob's body politics within my last post as such:   complete unrecognition / avoidness / blindness.  To sum that up, I like to use the word void.  This is absolutely the best word I've come up with to describe what happens when I attempt to see my physical self.

Therefore, it begs the question:  How can you love something you simply cannot see nor have ever seen?

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When I was a teen, and please know that what I'm about to say simply didn't grow out of teenage angst, I did not feel as if my dad was truly my biological father.  Now, as a result of this, I also didn't believe my mother had become impregnated with little me via another suitor, therefore overall, I sort of made the assumption that I couldn't possibly be a "natural born citizen" within our fam.  Now, I'm not going to go into all of the why behind my feeling this way, as it pertained to Robert, Sr.  But trust me, in many ways, he reciprocally felt the same about me.  It made for a childhood where I would find myself enviously looking at my friends' relationships with their dad's (& more than likely the same was occurring with my father enviously looking at his peers - & especially his brothers' - sons).

Therefore, with no siblings to parade around with (or seek counsel from) whilst growing up, I was left to wonder why I felt like such the oddball - particularly as a teenager.  

And to expound further regarding this, I also naturally looked hard at my uncles (my dad's three brothers) / cousins (each & every one of them male children) and was unsuccessful in locating a reprieve.  Though I loved these men / boys and enjoyed spending time with them (& of course, still do) as my known family, I just didn't BELIEVE that I fit into the group.  At all.  BUT IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH HOW THEY TREATED ME.  They truly were (& still are) really wonderful family members to have.

(I feel obligated to interject THAT.)

My hunch today, whilst looking back, is that the similarities / pedigree were / was absolutely there; its just that I couldn't see them in me myself.  And I still today don't know why that was / is.

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It is so pagan-feeling going to Wal-Mart on a Sunday morning.  I know that firsthand, having shopped there this AM.  

We've been having Sunday morning church at our abode - over the past month or so - due to the uptick in COVID-19 cases throughout our state, therefore this lends itself to even (at times) executing our family church service on Saturday evenings - if need be (which we did last night).

As I was hurriedly shopping at Wal-Mart (surgically masked), I walked past an unmasked guy whose eyes locked with my own.  A few seconds later, I wondered aloud if I actually knew that guy.  By this point, I was much closer to my big box store destination zone (hardware), yet I couldn't help but continue to ruminate on his face / build, trying to put my recollective thinking into gear.

"Where do I know that guy from?"

After placing my needed items into my shopping basket, I eventually made my way to the self checkout section, and fortunately, I spotted him again.  

Then I remembered where he and I used to interact!

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Throughout my life, I've had a love-hate relationship with my imagination.  For on the one hand, it's what - in may ways - consistently springboarded me from my adolescent identity vacuum, but on the other hand, wrought so much regret and anger relative to fueling my propensity to willfully sin.

At the center of that chronic routine was what I've dubbed my archetype.  An amalgamation of masculine physical attributes - that embodied for me - a sexualized ideal of what it meant to be a man.  This archetype was, more often than not, (within my sexual fantasies) an imagined big brother, uncle, next door neighbor, teacher, coach, and on and on.  Any of which would eventually work towards seducing me into engaging in homosexual relations.

It was through the "pursuit and subsequent validation" of this archetype that I attempted to endure the void.  For he (singular) was as affirming as any group of ideal athletic teammates might very well be whilst all the while being more comfortable with me (& accessible to me) than I was with my own self.

The aforementioned fellow Wal-Mart patron (whom I eventually recalled was a former friend from over a decade prior) happened to - past & presently - embody my archetype both physically and emotionally.  He was / is the ideal, and this is a significant truth.

And as a side note, the fact that this former friend continues to be so (at our close-to ages), is rare indeed.  For most middle-aged Mississippi guys aren't anywhere near the physical parameters of my archetypical, masculine male (which is a godsent reality for me).

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In the past, encountering my archetype as I did this AM at my local big box retailer would have elicited quite the elicit response.  Particularly taking into account a long since forgotten friendship with the individual.

And as such, days and days, if not weeks and weeks would likely have gone by where me being privately consumed with that encounter were the absolute norm.  

And as a side note to that, when I began consuming gay porn online (back in late '90s), the impetus for that was me realizing how expeditiously / efficiently I could locate (search engines) and therefore harness those salacious facsimiles similarly (sexual fantasy).  All in reaction to the void / vacuum / blindness or whatever you want to call it.

To be clear, it wasn't that I wanted to be these archetypical men.  All I was looking for (through sexual fantasy) was a means to manage the pain of acknowledging the reality of the void itself.  But it was those specific archetypical men who were the key.  And I'm not sure why that was either.

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In closing, it is incredibly difficult to face the truths that I've written about here.  Not only emotionally but intellectually (particularly from the standpoint of there being so many unanswered questions).  As such, I don't believe I even began to truly wrestle with my own body politics 'till I was well into my 30s.    

I do remember, as a much younger man, wishing I had a body that I felt at peace with (self-affirmation), but even as I took action to change my build (age 36+), it had no impact on clarifying my visibility. 

So here's that question again:  How can you love something you simply cannot see nor have ever seen?

The only thing that has even a remote impact today is holding fast to what I believe of God's take on me (as well as all of his children).  His promises.  His narrative.  His approach.  

Otherwise, I'd simply be blind all around.

Sometimes only having a peripheral view of yourself does in fact prescribe an outlook that drives more truth / more faith and less comfortableness with a holy God.

Theology Of The Turners' Bodies (With Particular Attention Paid To My Wife's)

As a couple, & in very specific terms, Angie & I sit on the opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to making peace with the theology of our individual bodies.  Now, as a married couple, we are - by God's definition - one flesh, and we can both vouch for that.  There's simply no such thing as singular husband / singular wife - within a marriage under God.  As such, she & I are thoroughly combined, and this is the core reason for there being such general richness within our 25-year betrothal.  

Taking that into account, Angie's relationship with her body has always been one of mistrust / suspicion, and as such, this has rightly been validated since her 2020 stroke.  Yet, I can confirm, having known her since we were teens, that she's always wrestled (as opposed to being at peace with / ignoring) by default with all that can come with existing within our God-given bodies.

For Rob, my "bodily" relationship hasn't been so much about mistrust but complete unrecognition / avoidness / blindness of that which I exist within.  Therefore, in its steed has been an unhealthy default towards other's (men's) bodies in lieu of my own.  And this sin laden approach is where my struggles with same sex attraction (particularly as it relates to consuming gay porn - arguably the most efficient means of doing this) grew out of.

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Ever since Angie's stroke (late May of 2020), I've relied on her to tell me if she might be interested in having intercourse.  Before that life altering event, Angie was in (& had been for a few years) the throes of perimenopause (which she still is), therefore with her menstrual cycle being so unpredictable, she was - & this harkens back to her body mistrust outlook - very rarely interested in sexual activity of any kind. 

Here was and still is my take on my wife regarding this:  Sex certainly cannot and will not be something you feel comfortable participating in when you mistrust your body.  Sex is an obvious working in tandem (50/50) with your spouse to execute this very intimate act.  Therefore if 1/2 of that equation isn't at all confident / at peace in its body's ability, that's going to present a problem.

I share that commentary as its helped me come to grips with - at times - a very minimal / oftentimes negligent-feeling sex-life situation.  But Angie's body politics aren't all that's been brought to the surface over the past 1.5 years.  Remember, I am no doubt her lesser half (remaining 50%).

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Because there's so little internal conception / acknowledgement of me my bodily self, I frankly don't fare any better than she at offering up much "sexual assuredness / comfortableness" relative to my 50%.  

Hence, my focus can often be too much on her (or elsewhere), and as such, she's often aware of this, complicating things even further.

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All this oversharing above points back to what the priest summarized within the embedded video and the difficulties we can have as individuals therein with these truths.  Those truths being that we are both spirit and flesh, image-bearers of the living God, embodied by the Holy Spirit.  And as he states, God is love.  And that definition of love is clearly spelled out in God's word.  So how do we love our bodies, particularly if - as a married couple - a sizable portion of our body isn't our own but our spouses?

Angie spent close to a month within a rehabilitation hospital in Jackson post-stroke.  This hospital worked her each (business) day regarding physical, speech, and occupational therapy.  From there, she came home and continued with her therapy, though it was outpatient in nature.  Her reception towards all this therapy was with open arms, and not just from the standpoint of an immediate physical recovery but too, as an educational opportunity.  

The core issue for Angie relative to her mistrustful relationship with her body comes down to magnanimous self-awareness.  This being just an off the charts - in real time 24/7/365 - self examination of herself from stem to stern.  And as such, taking part in certain activities - that are out of the ordinary (her comfort zone) - can amplify this.    

I'm on the opposite end of this spectrum.  For so many years, I solely invested in examining / worshipping other bodies (men's) in response to the void of me being successful in examining my own.  So much so, in fact, that it's as if I'm that guy in the film Memento with the short-term memory loss issues.  Hence, I have a narrative of how my body came to be (from 5,000 feet up) but no relevant experience with it in the here and now (or ever).  Even the protagonist's many, handmade tattoos speak to his detached relationship to his body.

Which, in a lot of ways, makes it as if I don't either have a body to begin with or am borrowing someone else's. 

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Earlier today, Angie and I went to Y and strength trained.  She started joining me in the gym well before her 2020 stroke (for regular workouts), therefore post-stroke (with the aforementioned rehabilitation knowledge in tow), it's not been at all difficult for her to continue forward.

What's no doubt different now (versus pre-stroke) is her slow progression towards making peace with her disabled body.  I can actually see this occurring as she makes more and more baby step gains each week.  And yes, I typed that correctly.  Angie making peace with her now disabled body.  

Perhaps this change of heart is pragmatically tied to progress - tangible progress - within her routine, but I'm convinced too that it has a lot to do with that mistrust (of her body) finally being validated / confirmed.  

This reckoning of her's is the weirdest thing I've yet to witness within our very weird marriage.  Particularly from the standpoint of how it's indirectly bringing about my own.    

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In conclusion, my hope lies today in what my wife is doing now to continue to rebuild strength / mobility within her post-stroke body, and me having the good fortune of witnessing this awesome, multifaceted work.  In the end, as an outcome of this good work, my hope for her is to love her body well as she slowly makes peace (yet not completely trust) with it going forward.

For we both benefit, taking into account our one-fleshness.  

The Toxicity Of (Samson Society) Slander & Gossip / Strive To Stay At The Bottom Level Of The Ziggurat Pyramid

This past week I manned a trade show booth at an annual summer convention that caters towards one of the professions my family business (which is where I'm employed) gravitates towards.  I've manned this particular booth (almost always within the same venue) for seven years.

Prior to this annual event, I establish goals for myself relative to the efforts I'm slated to put forth there, and one of those goals for this year had to do with Rob making a professional connection with one - in particular - (out of four) of the gatekeepers of this particular national organization.  This particular gatekeeper is the newest to the group, having been appointed +/-3 years prior, and subsequently, the last one to having a working relationship with Rob.  

But unfortunately, perhaps due to my big mouth, that newly hoped for professional connection (& subsequent goal) didn't come to fruition during the event.  To be more specific, I let a slanderous comment slip immediately prior to the opening reception on Thursday night.  And this comment was relayed to very much the wrong individual (the gatekeeper's employee) at the wrong time.  

Stupid Rob.

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I offer the following truth.

All of us adjudicate others by default.  It's essentially sizing up, and it's especially prevalent (easy to execute) amongst individuals who're - more or less - established within the same plane.  And keep in mind that everything within our culture - as well as the very economic system we reside within - as Americans, is coded within the language of performance-based judgement / rank (which by definition runs counters to the gospel).  Case in point are Samson Society facilitators and how their personas respond to the roles they've volunteered for.  These men, no doubt, are each distinctly different in their approach.  Yet, they've chosen to take on the responsibilities embedded within facilitating which makes them easy targets.

Another facet of being a member of the Samson Society community is warranted, consistent attendance (sometimes many years of attendance) to a particular group(s).  And this can fuel what I call ziggurat (stepped) pyramid judgement - with each level of the pyramid (ascending from bottom to top) representing less and less doubt -  relative to your sizing up of an individual, setting, etc.  And this ziggurat pyramid construction "process" (moving upwards towards a more concretized opinion or point) tends to happen faster / with less effort the older (more experienced) you are (I speak from experience here).  As such, once you reach that pyramid's zenith, one's opinion is no doubt established, and that's when you're probably screwed.  For I've seen firsthand how no man can benefit from Samson Society (or any other horizontal community) when they've figured everything / everyone else out.  As such, to expound on that observation, this personal "triumph" may also result in potential slander ensuing whilst being within that particularly arrogant state of mind (like I was last week at the aforementioned convention).

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Here's another truth.

Tension exists between certain men.  It's inevitable.  And that's not necessarily a negative truth.  Sometimes there's even tension between Samson Society facilitators because, they too are men.  At times, this tension is managed with relational distance coupled with an intentioned reduction in communication.  And I would argue that this tends to be a risky approach due to the fact that solid communication is always, always a key to success relative to relationships, organizations, etc.  Satan will undoubtedly use this easy out to his advantage in weakening the relationship.  

I write all of this primarily for me myself to read.  For I'm no better than any other man at keeping my head clear of judgmental thinking.  One of the primary attributes (character traits) of Mr. Nate Larkin is humility (I'm so fortunate to know him and to have witnessed this personally).  He literally reeks of it.  And as the author / creator of the Samson Society, I continue to bestow much admiration on him because of that particular approach to leading / modeling towards involvement within (how to) the Samson Society community.

In closing, the best way to not commit slander is to steer clear of filling your noggin with judgment about anyone or any group.  And if you cannot cease from doing this, it may be best to remove yourself from the community 'till you mature a bit more within that vein.

For once it's out of your mouth, it's not ever going back.

Lagniappe

Taking Stock Of What Satan Has Done To You & Yours

Anger towards Lucifer (Satan), I have found, can be quite the distiller.  And sure, we all should be generally angry towards him and evil overall.  This generalized approach can serve to provide clarity as to (in opposition) the believability of God's character.  In other words, a sizable number of individuals recognize their need for Christ / comprehend the gospel as an outgrowth of their distinct run-ins with evil (& more often than not, this manifests itself within childhood) either within or outside of themselves.

But what I'm referring to here by saying "taking stock" is specific disgust / vitriol towards the ruler of this world as we know it.  Specifics pertaining to you and yours - both historically and present day - and how / what damage has been wrought.  

Why?  Why embrace that justified anger towards a being we as Christians clearly know is there but we cannot see?

For me, I find it serves to defuse so much of the machinations he's used and continues to use - specifically towards me - relative to his consistent accusations.

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The Bible clearly states that Satan is an accuser, and that he's the ruler of this world during this present age.  But, we also know that Satan is leashed by God due to God's overarching sovereignty and will.  

We know that Satan was one of many fallen angels who were thrown down from heaven as punishment for an attempted insurrection that was centered on the notion that Satan arrogantly considered himself superior to God.  

We know that Satan was the most beautiful of the angels (with no doubt an ego to match).  

The Bible states that Satan is bent on stealing, killing, and destroying, and that he prowls around like a roaring lion anticipating his next victim.

Satan is a spirit (bodiless), therefore he's unable to age or die of natural causes.  

Satan's reign of terror has a definitive endpoint according to God's word during the last of days.

When Jesus ministered during the final three of his 33 years here on Earth (before ascending to heaven), he engaged often with individuals who were possessed by demonic spirits (both singular and plural).  Too, Jesus, prior to the official start of his 3-year ministry (but after he'd been baptized by John the Baptist), engaged directly with Satan during a lengthy (40 days) period of "testing".

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How do we then, take stock, of Satan's wicked influence within our lives?  Here are my recommendations. 

I believe the only way it's truly possible to accomplish this is to humble yourself firstly.  For it's through humility, I believe, that you can see with more clarity behind the "veil" of this emotionally charged existence of ours.  

A humble heart takes the bottom-up approach.  Think of it as observing life whilst lying down at the bottom of a deep swimming pool.  Whilst there, you're cognizant of the weightiness of the water and the pressure differential between you and the surface.  Hence, you're keenly aware of your quite vulnerable "place" within the grand scheme of things.

In short, we can dub it fearful and therefore nonjudgmental observation.

From there, it's all about asking the Holy Spirit to open your eyes, and my recommendation therein is to start with those closest to you (siblings / parents / grandparents / uncles / aunts / friends).  All of which, no doubt, have made a significant impact on you yourself from which love has been borne out of.

The end result is to Listen.  And Look.  And Record.  And from there, experience the slow burn that comes with becoming enlightened to / cognizant of Satan's influential track record.

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A lot of Samson guys use the word "triggers" to describe catalysts for "subversive thinking".  It can be anything that gets them mentally / emotionally off track and headed south.  For me, one of the most powerfully armoring defenses against these unscripted events is one's keen focus on / holistic recollection of Satan's wiles - both personally and familial.  Sort of like a manageable, sobering dread.

Take, for example, viewing Internet porn as an end result (breakaway) of a supposed triggering experience.

As we all know, Internet porn, on the surface is incredibly alluring, beautiful, customizable, and so forth.  But if you take into account all that you've witnessed secondhand via Samson Society (or otherwise) regarding the fallout / destruction Internet porn usage can cause to a Christian man, his family, etc.; this may very well serve as combustible material towards the aforementioned incendiary burn.

Another example and one much more personal.

At least once a year, I stop by to visit an old college friend's gravesite in Louisville, MS.  His death was premature, and more than likely, it was self-inflicted.  His story is desperately tragic, no doubt one of regret and despair as Satan influenced primarily through a massive embracing and wholehearted trust of our entertainment culture.  

And on and on it goes as the bodies seemingly pile up all around (particularly as you approach middle-age).

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In closing, how do we master this taking stock without becoming jaded?

I think the only answer to that is as follows.  In tandem with this measured, curfewed pursuit, staying as hopeful and sure of God's promises towards us as seemingly possible (Bible study / prayer).  Remembering always too his consistently working to save, transform, and redeem us in and through our obedience and faith.  Journaling with this specific focus is an excellent tool to accomplish this.  

And finally, always, always keeping a healthy sense of humor alive about everything (including yourself).  Laughter is a gift from God that works in perfect opposition to the hydration of a callous outlook.  

A bittersweet understanding of life, I believe, is in sync with how Christ modeled God the Father for each of us.  This has been one of my most powerful weapons whilst standing my ground against our greatest enemy.

  

Desperation To Fit In & Be Loved For What You Bring To The Mix

I've never been desperate to fit in amongst my peers, and I suppose this is due to my sexuality.  Knowing as a boy that I was potentially going to be seen as a threat or liability by someone within the group - by default - I learned early on to focus my emotional longings towards intense (chronic) sexual fantasy. 

Starting within childhood, all of us boys desperately work to find value within the mix of other boys (real or imagined).  And as a result, it doesn't take us long to adjudicate where we may precisely fit in - unless there's nowhere to fit in.  This desperation to fit within the mix can be especially torrential if we don't click with dad / within dad's community.  

For example:

Let's say a boy's legal guardians are his grandparents (his father's in-laws), and their guardianship has been from the boy's birth.  As a result, much of boy's masculine persona is imprinted upon him by his (grand)father (who's in no way genetically kin to the boy's biological father).  Yet, the bio dad spends some time with his son (a couple of weekends a month), and hopes for the boy to synchronize with his modus operandi (particularly as a teenager).  But, it ain't happening.  And then from there, both the bio dad and son find both heartache and frustration as a result, and their relationship suffers.

And, of course, the (grand)father simply looks on with a grin.  For better or worse.

The boy, on the other hand, may just asks himself, "Where do I go from here?  If I don't fit in with my own biological father, where can / do I fit in?"

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I loathe team sports.  Always have.  But, I'm in the minority here, and I've always recognized this.  All that being said, I admire boys' / men's passion for team sports despite my not relating to that passion.

Team sports exist for a number of reasons, but one, in particular, is to satiate the desperation boys (& girls) experience to fit into the mix.  They're looking for that synergy that comes with working together as a team.  Parents too vicariously experience (yet again) the thrill of synchronized community whilst catering to their children's same longings, therefore it can be an amazing familial win-win.

Similarly, is the existence of youth gangs / cartels.  Again, there's that universal longing to fit into the mix.  Even if crime is involved.  This risk of criminal punishment / criminal record pales in comparison to be integrated therein.

Cults work the same way.  Bizarre beliefs are easily stomached when one's desperate.  Particularly if there's an intricate ordering (rank) involved.

And on and on.  You get my point.

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But if we look to the example that Christ left us via the gospels, we don't see this kind of behavior / longing.  Instead, all he desired was pleasing his heavenly father.  Now, he did assemble the disciples, and they followed him throughout his earthly 3-year ministry, but there's absolutely no hint that Jesus longed to fit into the mix of those dudes and therein earn love and acceptance.  Read Matthew, Mark, Luke & John and tell me if you see otherwise.

Of course, you can argue here that we're not Jesus.  Instead, we're more like those 12 disciples.  And that's a true statement, but only on the surface.  For if you look at the behavior of the disciples (the book of Acts) post-resurrection of Christ, it's markedly different than before.  As if they've been radically changed as a result of their now redirected / clarified priorities and the infusion of the Holy Spirit (which descended at Pentecost - again documented within the book of Acts).

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A handful of years into my tenure at an architecture firm here in Jackson (back in the late '90s / early '00s), I began to become less and less interested in fitting into that particular mix.  As a result of this, my tongue began to loosen considerably relative to what I was actually seeing (character / persona) of my four bossmen.  And almost all of this lollygagging was no doubt in jest, yet on one particular occasion, despite the obvious air of sarcasm, I witnessed what I'd not realized existed prior.  

The particular joke I released on this day had to do with one of my boss's physical seniority (he was 10 years older than I was) in relation to me.  And it was executed amongst a handful of my younger colleagues and my then boss back in what was dubbed the "drafting room" of this firm.  

And then something truly bizarre took place.

You must know that the "drafting room" of this particular firm held 6 built-in drafting tables which all surrounded a very large built in island (which served as our laydown space - for drawings).  My bossman, wearing dress slacks and high dollar Cole Haan shoes (his typical uniform), literally leaped - from a standstill - up onto the island moments after I released my sarcastic joke about his "seniority" over me.  To summarize, he did this in reaction to me jocularly pointing out his "old age".  

Everyone was so stunned by this bizarre reaction that we simply stood there speechless, looking up at him now standing on top of the island.  In fact, I don't even remember how he got down from there.  It was simply all so surreal.

I realized in that moment how, despite my own beginnings of relinquishment of the desire to fit into the mix, that he was nowhere near that same point.  Yet, he was 10 years my senior.  And this was incredibly eye opening to me; for he desperately wanted to still be seen as part of the mix.

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What is one reason the notion of driving fancy cars and living in fancy single family homes is elevated as it is within our culture?  And what actually drives lifestyle creep?

What is one reason professional and college sports teams are obsessed over?

What are some reasons men invest in deer camp memberships, set aside time to listen in to shock jocks, and prioritize time to watch loads of porn?

And finally, to circle back to the beginning, what is one reason some men purposefully pursue higher and higher standing up and up the corporate / institutional / government ladder (besides the pragmatics of increasing their income)?

I think it's the boy inside.  For these men, he's still very much in control.  Even though, he's long since been eclipsed by physical manhood.  Little boy demanding attention.  Little boy refusing to grow up.

And this is a fascinating truth to ruminate on.  It is astounding to me how much brain power many of us men exude relative to attempting to satiate our desperation for fitting into the mix.

The Archetypical Sexual Prowess Of Leading Men In Television / Film: A Powerful Straw Man

The valedictorian of my high school class chose not to speak during our convocation service.  In his place then resided our Assistant Principal, Dr. Vernon Sills.  Unfortunately (at least in my humble opinion), Dr. Sills was mostly seen as a joke at our private academy (Madison-Ridgeland Academy).  He'd only been with the institution for a few years, and you could tell he really didn't care for any of us or his job.  Plus, the man was simply tough to look at due to the fact that God had done him no favors in the looks department, at least at this point in his life (Medicare years).  All in all, it was easy to simply cringe whilst encountering him traversing the halls, all the while on the constant lookout for troublemakers. 

Within his speech, Dr. Sills emphasized to us Class of 1990 high school graduates to cultivate our physical, emotional, and spiritual selves whilst venturing out into the world.  By doing so, he extrapolated regarding the importance of proper nutrition and exercise, relational connections and faith (via Christianity).  What he left out though was anything at all related to our sexual prowess, and of course, this made good sense.

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Television was a huge part of everyone's life in the 1980s.  There were only a handful of channels via CATV (by today's standards), therefore the limited amount of programming had a monumental girth in terms of its influence on our big hair / mullet culture.  For example, millions upon millions of viewers watched evening soaps like Dallas, Dynasty, Falcon Crest, and Knots Landing week after week.  The characters, portrayed by stunningly beautiful actors / models, infiltrated our everyday narratives, propelled forward by yet another hourlong episode the upcoming Friday night through the fall / spring. 

The white people dedication to these TV soaps was akin to our current blind devotion to Facebook and other forms of social media.

EVERYONE LOVED WATCHING THESE TV SHOWS.  I simply cannot emphasize that word EVERYONE enough in this regard.

Why was this?  The leading men.  It was almost always centered on the beauty and sexual prowess of the leading men.

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I'll never forget seeing the scene I posted above.  Not only was it pivotal in demonstrating how preposterous these idiotic narratives were (this scene was the retcon of all retroactive continuities at the tail end of one of the later seasons of Dallas), but simultaneously, all of this "intellectual audience abuse" was instantly forgiven once we'd had the opportunity to join Mr. Patrick Duffy (Bobby Ewing) in the shower - of all places.  Now, by today's standards, this is a very familiar scene / ploy.  Therefore, you really need to reverse time a fair bit here to realize two things.  One, was the reach this soap opera had in terms of its broadcast viewership, and two was the scene itself.  Go back and watch it again.  Pay attention to just how intrusively perceived (startled) then welcomed the camera is directly inside the shower.  As if to say, I'm turning everything over to you, viewer, leaving nothing whatsoever to the imagination.

What this moment said so clearly to me as a boy was the following:  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  Your sexual prowess / value as a male is indicative of your looks, your voice, your build.  

And, of course, all of these items I had no control over.  At least as I understood it.  You may ask, why exactly did this make such a distinct impression?

My parents, like most others, orbited their entire week around forthcoming episodes of Dallas.  Everyone talked constantly about this rich white people soap.  You can read to your heart's content about the show here.  I cannot underestimate its impact culturally during this time.  Every character became like a part of our family, but this was especially true of the leading men (& to some degree their character's wives).

As children, we typically adhere to / respect / revere that which our parents gravitate towards / elevate, and as such, if Maw & Paw are BOTH hyped up for the same thing, there's a darn good chance it's going to make a decided impression on the offspring.  This occurs by demonstrating to the little sinners to pay attention, look sharp, digest, believe because we're all on board here.

It comes down to relaying / demonstrating trust in something / someone to your children and the powerful influence this can have on your child's gullible mind.  

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Now let's fast forward 21 years.  For many younger men, the film 300 represented their first exposure to what I'm describing above but at a much more explicit and stylized level.  And one could argue, because this was film, that it had just as much impact via its cinema presentation as all the hours upon hours that Dallas had whilst being screened on my 'rent's 19" RCA CRT TV.   

I've heard younger Samson guys discuss how their first screening of 300 at the theater similarly served to radically imprint within their psyches the exact same hyper-warped magnitude of cultural relevancy, though graphically demonstrated within a R-rated film.

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But what's really going on here?

There are some really hot guys out there, many of which have made TV, film, video game, etc. production companies millions upon millions of dollars with their looks / charisma onscreen.  But these men are one in a million.  Plus, the production companies have to be successful in locating actors who're vain enough to participate in this soulless visual patronizing.

God gave us eyes to see other men with.  This is a fact.  But most, if not all of what we see on TV, film, or in video games is not at all in line with reality.  TV / film / video games expose us to photographic (or near photographic) imagery of individuals that are far less real than anything we might encounter on the street, in school, at work, church, etc., and of course, there's no more impressionable medium relative to entertainment.  Particularly towards children.

Recognize the end goal of TV, film, video game production companies:  It is only to make lots and lots of $$$$$.  They're uninterested in whom their content influences or how.  They take zero responsibility for your impressionable soul. 

As a Christian, this should truly be a disturbing truth.  

The Antidote To Self-Destruction / Beware The Cycle Of Stupidity

Many years ago, I was running my typical course through the older neighborhoods north of our own when I began to be chased by a large dog.  I can't remember if I was training for my first 5K or not.  Perhaps.  I do know it was early one Saturday morning during the cold (for Mississippi) winter months.  Nonetheless, the dog bit me on my left leg at my Achilles' Heel (as I continued on my way), and, as you might imagine, it hurt and frightened me terribly.  

As a result, I stopped and followed the dog (after turning to face him for the now second time) back to his home.  I was very upset over this, having felt completely violated.

This had never happened to me prior, though I'd run this route many times before.  At the time, I wasn't necessarily mad at the dog, but the dog's owner.  And that's exactly who I now wanted to have a word with.

After repeatedly ringing the doorbell at the front door of the house where the dog returned, there was no response.  So then, I made my way around to the back door.  I remember this particular house was built on a lot adjacent to the water, and the house itself, in terms of its design, was quite lovely with its modern design appeal.  From there, I started banging (literally) on the back door that was only accessible from the home's rear deck.  

And that's when the homeowner opened the door.  And what happened next wasn't the least bit expected.

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What I'm going to attempt to provide commentary on here isn't applicable to every man.  It's important that I say that upfront.

But, I do believe it's applicable to many men.  Too, I believe this commentary is timely considering the new year.

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During January, many men begin to rationalize the notion of leaving their wives / (girl)friends, etc. behind for greener pastures.  And not necessarily with anyone else(s) in particular in mind.  Their rationale is rooted in the notion of being left to their own devices without having to "put up with" their current significant other(s).  And keep in mind here that I'm not just referring to romantic / marriage relationships but platonic ones as well.  It's this notion of heading west relationally as a means to define who you are specifically as a man.  

Pandora brought this song into my queue recently.  It speaks to exactly what I'm referring to here.

Doesn't that look correct?  Worthwhile?  Meaningful?  It really does due to its comedic packaging.

I wonder how many men followed suit after hearing this song play, over and over within their Internet radio's queue.  Greener pastures, if you're faithful enough to believe in their eventual surfacing, sure look good, don't they?

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When my mother cheated on my father back in the early '80s, my parents had been married for +/-10 years.  She cheated repeatedly with her then boss over a +/-6-month period, yet my dad chose to not divorce my mother once she'd finally quit working for her (much older and more established) lover.  Biblically, my father had righteousness on his side had he chosen divorce, yet he chose to stay with my mother instead.  

The following 2-3 years were less than ideal for our family, but it's important that you know that prior to that, their marriage had been built on a less than substantial foundation, having been "forced" to marry due to their unexpected pregnancy (me) when they were both in their late teens.  Therefore, in many ways, they literally had to reboot the marriage in its entirety at that 10-year mark, or perhaps a better way to frame it would be to start fresh as adults.

I admire my dad, having taken the long view as he did, despite his continued (justifiable?) mistrust towards my mother (that goes on even within the present tense).  

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I believe most men can fairly easily toss their "ball and chain" to the curb with little emotional afterthought, especially when they see their idols / ideals do it seemingly with such aplomb.  Women aren't so adept at this (though they'd like for us to believe so).  And, I believe, (again regarding men) the knack or wherewithal for pulling this off can reinforce / amplify for a guy his potential to "start fresh".

Now back to my original dog stalker story.

The homeowner who opened his back door was a man likely 15 years my senior, and he was stone cold drunk or high (or both) when he did.  So much so that he could just barely comprehend any portion of my verbal assault.  And like I said, I was really pissed at this point, having never been bitten by a dog whilst running prior.

The man eventually closed the door on me prior to me turning and walking back towards the street still seething.

On days like today, whilst running adjacent to that same route (I don't dare go back through that same 'hood sans a stick), I can't help but think about that guy, wondering all the while why he was inebriated that early on a Saturday morning.

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Who are we as men?  Biblically, we're identified right up front as being "not best left to our own devices" (see very early on in the book of Genesis).  Jesus brought together twelve distinct disciples to travel with him during his earthly ministry.  Even he did not do his work on his own.  

Godly men (again, per Scripture) are often seen "putting up" with an awful lot from their spouses.  And who can forget one of the clearest statements in the entire Bible (addressing relationships)?  "God hates divorce."  It literally says that.

So, let's talk divorce for a few minutes prior to wrapping this one up.

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Both architects I worked for within the private sector (as a young man), whilst being both an intern and licensed architect, were divorcees.  What was obvious about their second marriages that these employers of mine were partaking in was as follows:  it looked to me to be more of a roommate situation than anything else.  A convenient assemblage of two people who just happened to be the opposite sex and both divorcees.  

And within that arrangement, there's the constant fear of comparison to whomever occupied that same position (boyfriend / girlfriend / husband / wife / friend) in the past.  There's no ignoring the fact that it's impossible to outrun a precedent.

And from there, there's the potential for divorce number two.  And that's territory you only wish on your worst enemy because everyone knows divorce number two is old hat since you've already traveled that road once before.  As such, you then ushering in the bleakest of existences.  That being one blanketed in stigma.

Now, I had no interest in knowing the particulars relative to these men's divorces.  At the time, I was in my twenties and so very grateful to have employment - fresh out of college.  Perhaps the had biblical grounds to divorce.  I don't know.  What I do know, in light of the point I'm trying to make here, is that their failed marriage made a distinct negative impression on me as their employee, intern, and friend.

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What possesses a man in his forties to be absolutely inebriated at 9 AM on a Saturday morning while his dog chases unsuspecting runners down the street in front of his house?  

Most men (including me) need to drop to their knees and thank the good Lord above they're not in that dude's shoes.  Left to their own devices.

     

Lagniappe

Don't Be A Communication Coward / Refuse To Terminate Relationships (Personal Or Professional) Through The Written Word

To terminate a relationship is a big deal, and there are times when it's necessary both personally or professionally.  Therefore, as such, handling the termination calls for finesse and respect.  For how you handle it reinforces your muster as an individual.  Plus, it makes you respectful by providing the other party an opportunity to hear directly from you and respond as they see fit to.  This is what decent human beings do.

Yet, we have so many means of communication available to us.  Face-to-face, telephone, text messaging, email, social media, and on and on.

Yet, each of these means or methods are far from equal to each other relative to appropriateness and decency - considering the seriousness of relational termination.

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If relational termination is what you've chosen to execute, never, ever, ever do it in writing.  Under any circumstance whatsoever.  

Now, if you're uneasy about executing the termination alone, bring a friend along for relational support.  Even if that friend just happens to be a cop.

Relational termination deserves proper closure because both personal and professional relationships take an awful lot of work.  And that work should be honored and respected throughout (including at the eventual end).

Disembarking From The Anticipation Roller Coaster

The Children of Israel were needing to get a handle on their feelings during the beginning of their journey out of Egypt (where they'd been enslaved) to the Promised Land.  They'd been subservient to the Egyptians as their minions for 400 years, and when their rescue came, it was to God's dismay that they rather quickly jettisoned their gratitude, leaving behind the inability to relish their newfound (forever) freedom.

And this became the truthteller regarding their immaturity as a people group.  God despised this about them for it proved their focus was no longer on him but their own selfish feelings.

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I've heard preachers use this story in an attempt to quell criticism of shoddy preaching, but that's not at all correctly pitched.  The lesson in this story is about staying focused on God's rescue.  Paying heed to where you've come out of.  Seeing who's right in front, leading you forward today in all of his glory.  

But to do this, you must remember truthfully where you were prior.  And you must carry that with you into the present.  

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My "porn" as a child was the Service Merchandise / Spiegel catalog.  Especially this time of year.  Every day, often multiple times a day, I would gaze into this glossy-paged, oversized magazine and long for some toy(s) or electronic(s) that captivated by imagination.  And all it took was one professional photo of this object and a short descriptive paragraph to bide me over for those few imaginatory minutes.  Keep in mind that this was way before online professional / customer reviews much less online retailers.  

We are image bearers of God, therefore we have imaginations too which lead us to create / devise / plan / dream.  Considering that, we are also perpetually self-focused and subsequently indulgent with flesh that's hyper-sensitive to moods, hunger, fatigue.

And this was the means for the Israelites' undoing once they lost patience with God's provision / direction.

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Youth facilitates the propensity to constantly look forward.  It's what makes having children so much fun at times.  Santy Claus wouldn't exist were it not for this.  And yet, this component of childhood can overstay its welcome as we men are expected to grow out of it but refuse to.  Oftentimes, it's simply translated over into real estate, depreciating assets (cars, boats, video game consoles), but also into sexualized fetishes.

Internet porn provides a limitless amount of visual imagery for us to "feed" these latter longings, all from the privacy of our own PC, tablet, smartphone.  

And this is where God gets pissed, to the point of putting his foot down.

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So how do we go about encouraging maturation away from all this childishness?  What can we do to better manager our unsatisfied, unsettled anticipatory selves?  

Pray firstly.  Fall to your knees and ask God for release.  Ask him for a special measure of his Holy Spirit to fight back with.

Secondly, look clearly at others and see where they need you to be THE MAN.  Even within your private life when no one else is looking.  

Thirdly, repent of your childishness and all the idolatry that's manifested itself therein.  Make a list of these things and pray over them in retreat (backing away).

Put your feet on solid ground via these three moves and work hard to not look back.  From there, God's completeness will begin to suffice as you're more focused on where you once were in light of current circumstances.