Facilitating A Weekly Virtual Meeting Versus An In-Person Meeting

A month or so ago, my co-facilitator of the virtual Samson Society meeting, "Brain Changers", asked that I exclusively take the reins.  It was during early '23 that I began attending that virtual meeting regularly.  Within six months or so, I'd been dubbed a "co-facilitator", much to my humbled delight.  For I found the contrast / volleying between myself and my (now former) co-facilitator to truly set "Brain Changers" apart.

Alas, it wasn't meant to last.  My co-facilitator stepped away in order to partner with a local Samson brother.  They're set to kickstart a local in-person meeting (there in the Hoosier State).

I've spent most of my 500 one-per-week Samson meetings within in-person groups.  In fact, if you look squarely at percentages, this is how the numbers fall:  

In person:  72.6%

Virtual:  27.4%

(having attended since August of '14)

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I know my former virtual co-facilitator will excel as an in-person facilitator, particularly in contrast to his role within the virtual meeting space.  Alec's physical presence will serve him (& the Lord) very well in this regard.  

So, what's the key difference / experience I've witnessed between the two roles?

I was always taken for granted within the in-person Samson Society meeting facilitator role.  As such, I hope that won't be the case for Alec.

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When I was in my early 30s, I was appointed President of our 'hood's homeowners' association board of directors.  There were two other homeowners who were similarly appointed (VP & Secretary / Treasurer).  I agreed to this because I was an architect.  What more qualified professional could there be for said position (other than perhaps an attorney)?

(Keep in mind that this was two decades ago, and as such, our 'hood was demographically much different than it is today.)

In spite of the importance of said position, I cannot tell you how absolutely taken for granted - within this particular volunteer role - I felt during this time of my young man life.  

Back in 2002, our 81 lot 'hood was made up of mostly first-time homeowners (the 'hood was, by far, mostly small spec homes).  Most of which were purchased during a period of less-than-scrupulous lending practices made manifest by lax regulation / rock-bottom interest rates.  

Needless to say, we were a motley crue living in a brand-spanking new development.  A development situated within a changing (who knew which way exactly) suburb of Jackson.

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I never once assumed my parents would continue forward with their financial / physical support post college.  My dad had made it clear that there was $$$ to pay for my higher education (inheritance from his deceased father), but beyond that, I was expected to, you know, take a permanent leave of absence post college.

It was during my last year of architecture schooling when my parents stepped up to help my deadbeat uncle in light of his addiction to illegal drugs.  Essentially, he moved in with us (I was living at home since the 5th year of architecture school resided in Jackson) for many months - post institutional treatment.  I remember all of this maneuvering feeling incredibly clinical and contrived as it pertained to the contrast between his own plight and my ready-to-launch young, professional man perch.

What I was too naive to realize was just how much of a sucker I absolutely had been.  For my uncle was only playing my parents - this time around, as he did whomever he saw fit - pertaining to his wants / needs (this has gone on ad nauseum ever since).

It was that entitlement that I simply couldn't - under any circumstances - relate to.  

Whilst looking back, there was compliant me simply being me taken for granted (& I was perfectly fine with that).

As an early 20's guy, my point of view came with that innocent (ignorant?) season of life.

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The Bible speaks - Jesus specifically addresses - of willingly turning the other cheek.  This being the position of submissiveness that is tied to meekness.  According to Scripture, its primary purpose is confounding one's enemies via Christ-like kindness.  

In line with this, perfectly in line, is one's innate understanding of salvation / transformation in and through the gospel and therefore the gospel's command towards demonstrative evangelism.  

This is not taking oneself or Jesus for granted.  This is obedience.

In a nutshell, it's commanded that we be allow ourselves to be taken for granted in order to leave plenty of room for the Holy Spirit to convict.

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In-person Samson meetings, at least around these parts, mostly reside within churchhouses.  Most of these meetings exist "under the radar" of the church membership.  Others are simply shelved (tolerated) alongside the "Celebrate Recovery" set.  The one I facilitated for four years at our church found little to no respect amongst the family of God.  And this was no fault of anyone's except the church leadership itself.  

For deep down, deep, deep down, the church leadership didn't want us there.

Why?

In-person Samson Society meetings that do their good work within the churchhouse are "unstable elements" that are rooted in very deliberate, emotional recovery work.  And church leadership knows this.  The meetings can therefore attract the mentally ill and those who're in serious personal crisis.  Folks that mainstream churches aren't typically comfortable serving.  And this is understandable.  I do not admonish nor look down on the church therein.  

Yet, the church pews, each & every Sunday, are filled with men who need Samson Society.  For I would argue that even a touch of Samson Society can benefit a man's soul.  No matter their season of life.  

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There're multiple virtual Samson Society meetings available for guys to attend each and every day.  Most follow the standard meeting format, though some aren't traditional in that regard.  There're book studies, prayer groups, large form intensive Q & A meetings to choose from.

Particularly during the summer, some of these calendared meetings unexpectedly don't happen.  For sans a facilitator to open the Zoom meeting, there won't be a meeting during that scheduled date / time.  And this leaves Samson guys out in the cold.

Therefore, when a virtual facilitator is faithful to show (or coordinate a substitute), there's a deep-seated sense of respect for that man.

Respect?

Did I really say that?

I did.

& I love it.

It's such a nice change.

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Our 'hood is completely different demographically today that it was decades prior.  Our neighbors understand and overall respect the homeowners' association / board of directors and their good / necessary work.  Too, the area where our 'hood resides is on the up & up in spite of its '70s / '80s roots.

I look back on the seven years that I served as President - at its outset - with pride.  For I know the example I set was foundational to its current success.  

And I think the same regarding my role in "Brain Changers".  For I am a better facilitator there due to my in-person Samson Society facilitator experience at Lakeside Pres.  

Thanks be to God for Samson Society and the blessings that continue to come my way, as a result, each and every day.  

Nate Larkin LIVE! Update

Per a Gracepoint Church member:

Hey Brothers, thanks so much to all who prayed about the event that I posted about a week or so ago.  It happened today.  Nate Larkin spoke at both of our worship services, and both services were amazing, with great responses and feedback from many people.  We had several folks visit to hear Nate's message today.  Also, we had about 15 men return at 1pm for a "sample" Samson meeting.  The shares and participation were AMAZING!   What a blessing from God on everything about today! Thanks for all who prayed and encouraged me to follow through on planning this event and taking this redemptive risk.   Thanks especially to Nate Larkin for sharing such an incredible message of love, healing, and redemption through the power of community and brotherhood, straight out of his own life experiences and from the word of God.   It was beautiful!  Praise God for this blessing.

Nate Larkin LIVE!

Mr. Nate Larkin is scheduled to speak at Gracepoint Church in Savannah, TN at 8:30AM and 10:00 AM Central Time on June 2nd, 2024.   He will also be facilitating a "sample" Samson meeting at 1:00pm Central Time at the same location.  If you live close enough to attend, please know you are welcome and would be an honored guest for both joining us in worship and/or to attend the afternoon meeting.  Having experienced Samson brothers participating alongside Nate would be such a blessing.

If you're unable to attend, please pray for Nate's endeavor to strategically spread the word regarding this parachurch men's ministry.

  

Intimacy With Men Lives On Via Memory & Technology

Sledge's birthday is 2024's Memorial Day.  Leading up to his birthday, each year, I re-listen to his audio journals & re-read his personal analytical work that he so fearlessly sent my way back in 2018.  Sledge was 28 at the time, and I was 45.  We'd met due to his willingness to step into the Samson Society meeting I facilitated at Lakeside Pres.  At the time, lust was a sizable part of his life, and he'd found himself convicted therein whilst hearing a mutual friend of ours share his testimony (prior to referring his audience to Samson Society).

Sledge needing psychotherapy and likely meds for clinical depression, but this wasn't apparent to me initially.  Instead, what jarred my attention (whilst parlaying my analytical thinking), to the massive degree that it did, was just how head-over-heels enamored he was of Rob from the moment we met.

Why did this matter?

Sledge loathed MS.  Everyone in MS.  Except for me and a woman at work that he'd grown fiercely attracted to.  This combined with his brilliance made for quite the enigma.  

So, how did he end up here within the Butt Crack of the USA?  Essentially, his relentless efforts to climb the corporate ladder begrudgingly brought him here.

At this time, Sledge was newly married and actively working to reproduce (he & his sweet wife already had one offspring). Regarding his spouse, I'm fairly certain she knew her husband was mentally ill (she was a healthcare worker) yet was too afraid to put it into words.  For Sledge had a razor-sharp tongue and zero tolerance for criticism from anyone sans using it in kind.  Plus, they'd tried couples therapy to no avail.  Nonetheless, she gave him what he seemed to care amount mostly.  Her desire for sex.  And this he obliged from her with absolutely zero resistance.  For Sledge received seemingly otherworldly amounts of affirmation via cunninlingus / vaginal intercourse.

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It was around this time of year (early summer) when I headed to south AL for 5th / 6th grade church camp.  This was a weeklong affair at a humble venue containing absolutely zero out-of-the-ordinary (from what I was used to in MS) natural beauty whatsoever.  It was a flat, forestry landscape with a relatively small lake.  Therein, each humble building was interconnected via gravel path / road.  

It was only our church, First Baptist Church Jackson, that participated, therefore there were no opportunities to intermingle / befriend with fresh faces.  In total, around 30-40 boys & girls were present for this scorchingly hot summer break week.

The year was 1985.  Van Halen's game-changing album had just come out (in fact, they'd even performed in Jackson at the MS Coliseum).  It defined this era pertaining to what it meant to be a young white male.  

During the late evening of the day we arrived at the church camp, I headed to the communal bathroom, there within the boys' bunkhouse, to brush my teeth.  Mid-way through my brushing, I heard the lone shower (that was being used) turn off.  When the curtain was raked violently across the rod, our collegiate chaperone, Dan, put his wet, naked bod nonchalantly on display.

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Sledge's audio journals were meticulously narrated / recorded.  The degree of vulnerability within is unlike any Samson deliverable I've ever received (& I've received A LOT of deliverables over the past decade).  

When I first listened to them back in 2018 (immediately following their gifting), the density of the recordings was too much for me to process with any real foresight / diligence.  That, along with how positively intimate they were, short-circuited my understanding of just how needy this young man truly was at the time.

It was almost like seeing him too (through that 1985 wall mirror) naked and wet, right there behind me, for such a time as that.  As such, I did what I only knew to do.  Smile awkwardly and continue forward with my teeth cleaning routine.

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Dan's collegiate frame was awe inspiring.  Both his impressive height and muscular build classified him as intimidating.  Not to mention the thick sandy brown chest and stomach hair that added years of maturity to his 22-year-old self.

And then there was his junk.  

Let's just say, I didn't even know where to begin to process what rested there moistly between this stranger's legs, though when I now come across Ezekiel 23, it easily harkens back.  

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Sledge's upbringing hadn't been normal, and he was just beginning to truly wrestle with the ramifications of that truth.  I could not relate to his growing up years for it all seemed so pejorative.  Particularly considering how intelligent / grounded his parents seemingly were.  

And then from there, his college girlfriend (who eventually became his wife) allowed him to become her dorm room fuck buddy.  And this went on "out of spite" (according to Sledge) in light of their parents' desire to see them complete their higher ed prior to marriage.  

What served as icing on the cake though was the fact that Sledge's dad was a pastor.  A devout, average-sized congregational pastor who loved both his wife and three children immensely.

At this time, Sledge was wondering out loud about pivoting and becoming a pastor himself.

And here I was just standing there at the sink minding my own business...

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Throughout my life, I've never ceased relishing the memory of seeing our collegiate chaperone's freshly showered physique, there on private display, in all of its glory.  For though I'm certain there've been plenty of greater than or equally beautiful men for me to admire, my unexpected exposure to him, at such an impressionable age, taught me such the important lesson.

Timing is everything.  Therefore, be alert.  Some of the most (eventually) fruitful & memorable experiences of one's life may very well occur when you're least expecting it.    

Lagniappe

Compromises Made To Recovery Work Add Up Over Time / Place = Expected Behavior

My middle daughter and I were in AR last week and whilst there, we had dinner at a memorable Hot Springs sports bar.  The restaurant was tucked in the corner of a strip shopping center adjacent to our hotel which made it too convenient to not pass up.

The early evening was just beginning to see some drizzling rain as we brought our travel-weary / empty stomachs through the pair of storefront doors.  The sports bar was understandably dark inside but very clean and spacious.  Despite the fact that it was a weekday evening, there were a number of middle to upper-middle class patrons enjoying the friendly atmosphere.  With live music playing and sports channels supersized (projection) on most walls, there was plenty to take in / relax by.

We enjoyed dining on high sodium, high fat appetizers combined with homemade chili and pizza.  It was extremely satisfying and had we been drinkers (middle daughter isn't quite old enough to drink yet but bear with me), a cold beer(s) likely would have only made it that much more enjoyable.

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My first Silas (we cross pollinated; therefore, I served as his Silas in kind) was an alcoholic.  He'd unfortunately (fortunately?) received a DUI a few weeks prior to walking into his first Samson Society meeting back in the early fall of 2015.  This served as his primary motivator to move into recovery.  

Internet porn consumption was also, at the time, a big part of his life.  And most of this was occurring at his office.  Surprisingly, this behavior was unrelated to his alcohol abuse.  

He would tell me stories of how sports bars were his "second office" whilst out of town on business (he traveled 3-4 times a month).  Per the man:  Once he'd successfully located a familiar-looking one (early to mid-afternoon), he'd situate himself at the bar with his laptop / cellphone ON GO ready to down as many craft beers as conceivable.  This would go on 'till the wee hours of the morning.  From there, he'd oftentimes find himself so inebriated that he'd no idea how to find his way back to his hotel, therefore he'd simply black out along the perimeter of some random retail parking lot.  Therein, he'd sleep off the booze there amongst the freshly mulched Indian Hawthornes.   

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As a Christian, we're called to be imitators of Christ.  Also, I'm filled with the Holy Spirit, therefore in and through me my behavior should exude this.  And it does, yet I cannot deny that my flesh comes along for the ride.  My flesh has memory.  History, if you will, that reflects my past (recent / distant).

Over the past 8-9 months, there's been a newbie at the Y who bears a striking resemblance to a very popular, very handsome television star.  The defining attribute of this actor is his impressive, arduously sculpted frame.  

Let's just say you could take 1.5 Robs and pack them into this muscular 40-year-old dude.

I took the initiative to introduce myself to this newbie a month or so ago, and he's now reciprocating the cordialness when our paths cross, even going so far as to discreetly track my movements in and through my improvised strength training routines.

I don't feign the attention / interest, for I know it harkens to our now familiarity / newfound friendship.  Plus, all of this forecasts tighter connection / trust.  And who doesn't desire that?  I certainly do.

What's challenging though is how two-faced I feel.  Why?  I'm reminded constantly, whilst in his presence, of how awe-inspiringly attracted I am to him.  For there's truly not been another masculine archetype (of my own) within that space (during my lengthy tenure) who's appearance / presence wasn't on par with his own.

And unfortunately, me no longer politely ignoring him has indirectly exacerbated my desires.  Desires which aren't by any means not ruefully kept in check, but far less easy to reign in whilst dilly-dallying with gay porn lackadaisically.

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If I were my aforementioned Silas 1.0 (from 2015), eating dinner last week within a nondescript sports bar in Hot Springs, AR (even with my offspring) would have been woefully irresponsible in regard to my never-ending recovery.  As his Silas, had I found out about this stupidity, I would have questioned it outright.

Comfortable, familiar, private settings, I would argue, can be the driving force behind a mindset of permissiveness.  Place = expected behavior. 

I'm no theologian, but Jesus did embody his humanity at 100% combined with being God also at 100%.  Yet, according to Scripture, he did not Fall into sin.  

I believe much of this had to do with his eternal perspective.  A perspective that pitted his knowledge of all things up against the temporary bliss / novelty of sin.  

I am not of the opinion that he had any sort of God-enhanced humanity which positively impacted his senses, provided him with supernatural physical endurance, etc.  

His mind was the mind of God and therefore the outlook of God.  Heaven, no doubt, was his home.  And therein, he never allowed its address to ever be but a thoughtful heartbeat away.

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Presently, I use gay porn mostly at work, and this pays homage to the beginnings of me becoming captivated by it.  Work setting(s) represent familiarity in regard to this escape.  They're my version of a sports bar.

What's happening though is these casual gay porn interludes are eroding my ability to be Christ-like to the degree (actively but mostly internally) that I'm called to be.  Particularly within settings like the Y (where I've recently made my new friend).  And the resulting problem isn't the fragrant allure of the revolving door that wafts within my proverbial nostrils.  Not at all.  Instead, it's the reassurance of an IDENTITY that's sure to be re-accredidated within my mind.  An identity of compromiser.  Cheat.  Time-waster.  Fraud.  Even self-flagellator.  

You've seen these young people cut themselves to draw blood.  Seemingly, they do this within an oft mindless state of consciousness.  From there, the pain / woundedness therein from these small lacerations reset / solidify their IDENTITY amidst the soothe.  I can relate to this.  For what's occurring privately within my mind (w/ my newfound friend) at the Y represents the scarring I've received from my own poor choices.  Specifically, it decrees that you ARE A PHONY / FRAUD due to the undeniable dermis damage. 

Please pray for me.  Pray that I'll stop compromising.  It's hard enough to be Jesus-like without the negativity / aroma of shame off-gassing from every sanctified pore.  It's like smelling your own body odor with no readily available escape from one's own reek.  

It's so weird how I fall back to an IDENTITY that I know will only hurt me further.  It proves how much disdain I truly have for my own self.            

Resist Being Relationally Territorial Within Samson Society. Remember, You're Only "Brothers" In Concept Alone. Nonetheless, Never Stop Considering The Relational "What If?"

Being an only child helps me in this regard.  I've no siblings to mar my relational outlook.  

What I mean by that is, (as a child) I always had to placate myself to the expectation that any and all friendships would be unpredictable / nonpermanent.  This point of view allowed me to stay hopeful, putting more energy towards the "What If?" versus the "Please don't leave me!".

(For I desperately needed friends.)

How did I do this?

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My favorite rock band throughout my childhood was Heart.  Had the two female band members not been sisters, I doubt the allure would have been nearly as strong.  Through Ann and Nancy, I vicariously enjoyed having / observing a sibling(s).  

What was so obvious to me about these two was the "order of operation" baked into the relationship.  Now, for those of you who know Heart well, you're privy to the fact that Ann wasn't the oldest child within the family.  There was an older sister still who just happened to not be a musician.  But if you know anything about these two rock 'n roll superstars, there's a definitive hierarchy combined with a steadfast, implicit value anchorage.  

In essence, Ann Wilson was the lead, and both sisters recognized the fact that they were far more valuable as a pairing than individually.

Both Ann and Nancy Wilson have recorded solo work.  In fact, Ann did so firstly by agreeing to perform within a rock duet (movie soundtrack from the mid '80s).  Eventually, Nancy did the same, though her efforts felt much more unsyncopated (in spite of the song's airplay) / unnecessary.    

When both sisters partner as song composers, they credit a pseudonym, "Connie" within the liner notes.  I've always like this.  It implies the seamlessness between the two, both carrying equal weight.  And that's cool.

In the not-too-distant past, Ann and Nancy Wilson had a public falling out.  This resulted in both women rocking (recording / touring) separately for a season.  Now they've made up and are once again together as if it never occurred.  

Why?

Because they're family.  As such, there's simply too much historical alikeness / sensibilities to not effectively keep them together.  

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I'm leery of friendships within this community that feel contrived.  I've been down that road with Samson brothers who're interested in befriending me, having received no indicators that I feel the same.  

Taking risks for Rob = feeling masculine.

This is my / many men's secret sauce pertaining to acting on the "What if?".

Personally, I especially like strong intelligence, but the rarefied attraction between two potential brothers involves identifying and acknowledging (being sympathetic to) his zone.  And doing so in a way that solidifies his trust in you / your trust in him.  This acknowledging will undoubtedly take creativity and a whole lot of deliberateness.

His / your zone = Whatever keeps a man up at night

Maybe it's work or children or his / your health (recovery?).  Whatever it is, if you / he can find a means to support him / you therein, doing so creatively and very intentionally, he's / you're demonstrating two things.

Firstly, your understanding of who you are / he is.  Secondly, your / his willingness to do the work needed to be "brotherly" in that regard.  

Ann Wilson loved music well before starting her band.  Not long after, Nancy joined too, bringing her guitar-playing skillset, songwriting ability, but mostly, she brought her willingness to support sis within an endeavor / "zone" that was no doubt her first love.  

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In closing, Heart's success as a rock band went into stratosphere during the MTV era of the 1980s.  And much of that had to do with the production team they agreed to work with.  A team that understood the era / cultural impact of music video production and how integral it was becoming to influence fandom (drive record sales / airplay).

Putting the dolled-up sisters on display, never too far from one another onscreen, did wonders to intrigue audiences (me).  For not only did they look similar, but there was simply a sibling rapport that was unmistakable.  Not to mention the fact that they were a lot easier on the eyes than Eddie & Alex or Chris & Rich.

Decades of time together, supporting / showing love whilst making entertaining music for all of us to enjoy = success all around. 

Your close brotherly friendships within Samson Society should be just as celebrated.  For they're no doubt similarly influential / entertaining to observe (despite the differences in last names).

Intentional Touch / Body Proximity, For Many Men, Is The Superior Way To Confirm Brotherly Love

Back in 2007-2008, I found myself withering on the vine via (authentic) platonic isolation (an ideal situation for Rob's uninhibited gay porn consumption or worse...).  It hadn't been long (October '06) since I'd left my job in the private sector to work for the State of Mississippi.  And I was honored to take that position, but it was nearly instantaneously obvious that I wouldn't be making close friends there.  As such, I had no desire to look back towards my vocational peers from the past either.  

The Internet (Yahoo! Groups specifically) came to my rescue.  Thanks be to God.

Scott, my newfound Aussie friend, was a master of the language arts.  It wasn't long before the "L" word was rolling off his tongue.  And I delighted in that, reciprocating blithely, for I'd never had another man say that word to me.  But I have to admit that it felt a bit hollow and quite forced.  For I'd never met Scott in person.  Instead, it was simply email and telephone / Skype calls that worked to congeal our relationship to the best of our ability.  Eventually, our very long-distance friendship diminished in relevance within my mind, and much to his chagrin, we took a one-year break.  

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Within the Samson Society, there's no shortage of hugs and "L" words.  Simply attend an Intensive or National Retreat, and you'll see what I'm referring to.  Arguably, it's the language of Samson.  In that regard, we're the gayest group of (mostly) straight men you'll likely ever encounter. 

Sidenote:  When I was a senior in high school, I gifted a neighbor friendboy (same age) a mixtape.  This friend had unexpectedly come back into my life during that one year, having moved away the summer prior to our sixth-grade year.  Despite both our (historical) platonic closeness as elementary-age boys (we were "best friends") as well as our (senior year) reestablished proximity, our friendship DID NOT "pick up where we left off".  Defeated and acting somewhat neurotic, I refused to give up hope.  And that's where the high school graduation mixtape gift idea came to fruition.  Unsurprisingly, it detonated any semblance of remaining dignity within our friendship bond.  

No gifting mixtapes please.     

Within certain cultures, best friends hold hands - in public - as a symbol of their love / commitment to each other.  You'll never see that amongst pirate monks, though I do think there's some merit to that innocent gesture.  

But what about men who have no interest in Samson Society, yet are just as fiercely loyal as friends (if not more so)?   How should we express love to them in a way that's respectfully effective?

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Here's an overall qualifier:

One of the greatest gifts the Samson Society has afforded me is practice loving on men.  Especially from the standpoint of catering that love specifically to that individual man.

I have rarely hugged a man who's not / who wasn't involved in Samson Society (except within circumstances that were quite forced / awkward).  

So how do I respectfully communicate love sans the fraternity of Samson Society providing oversight / ground rules / safety?

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Here in Mississippi, arguably the greatest fear of parents of boys is that they'll end up / turn out gay.  Having a homosexual son is a massive point of shame here in the Magnolia State.  As such, these children are usually written off completely / ignored outright within traditional southern communities.  And I believe this is primarily due to how dismissed / frowned upon any dialogue (identifier) regarding sexuality is within the buckle of the Bible Belt.  Hence, boldly proclaiming / admitting to one's same-sex attraction (& admitting to enjoying acting out on it) is akin to openly discussing one's viewpoint on southern race relations / Catholicism.  It amounts to instantaneous relational ostracism.   

As such, it's what drives middle to upper / middle to upper-class white parents to elevate / ratify hetero norms to the nth degree (in hopes of future-proofing their boy's budding sexuality).    

For example, these teenage boys are given full-size pickups to drive NO MATTER WHAT.  Is there no more hetero-normal vehicle than a body-on-frame full-size, gas-guzzling truck?  Absolutely not!

And preferably, it should be a domestic-designed / manufactured truck.  Toyota / Nissans simply aren't as hetero-normal as Ford and Chevrolet / GMC.

I could go on.  (Travel) team sports, boy scouts (tent camping), hunting / fishing and so forth.  

Oh, and if the full-size truck is customized (Carolina squat / rims, glass packs, etc.), all the more peace-of-mind parents can obtain regarding their son's unfettered sexual attraction towards wet vaginas.  

Straight son = parenting job well done.

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Intentional touch.  Mostly via handshakes, but on occasion, via a grasp (strong grip) or tap.  But also, there's the art of body proximity / politics.  

It's that shared space between two brothers.  Whether you're stationed together within a battalion, swimming semi-nude within a river, working out together or simply leaning over the empty bed of a (domestic) PICKUP TRUCK chewing the fat.  

Men's bodies radiate relational energy.  It's like a scent / body aroma that only the canines are actually privy to.  Therein, you mix that with your brother via proximity and emotional affirming can most certainly occur.  Powerfully.  Effortlessly.  Simply by spending time together.  It truly is magical to witness / experience.

And I would argue there's a lot to be said for this approach in terms of its subtleness.  Healthy men desire nothing greater than the respect of other men / women within their lives.  Understanding how to effectively express love candidly yet respectfully towards your special friend, I would argue, is key to sustaining said friendship.  

It took me a long time to learn this.

And you don't have a drive a full-size truck to do this well (though your friend may very well need to own one).

You're welcome.

What Is A Silas?

Here is what our experience tells us: You can get sober from anything going to meetings, but you can’t stay sober just going to meetings. That’s why, in the end, it isn’t even about the meetings. The meetings are a portal into the brotherhood. Samson really lives BETWEEN the meetings in relationships, conversations, friendships. Christianity, properly understood, is a team sport, not an individual event. We’ve been failing because we’ve been playing the wrong game! If we play 1-on-1 against a superior opponent, we will fail.

The lead person on your team we call a Silas. He is the one you are in regular communication with. There is an element of accountability, but it is not focused on sin management. If I just focus on the behavior, I run the risk of mastering that specific behavior and becoming a self-righteous Pharisee. Instead, I give another person (my Silas) real-time access to my whole life. What I’m feeling, thinking, doing, and thinking of doing.

My Silas is not an expert. He is a guy on the same road walking the same direction. But when it comes to my life, he has an advantage over me – he’s not in it! That gives him a perspective on my life that I don’t have. There are whole parts of my life that I can’t see because I’m inside it. Like trying to read the label from inside the bottle.

 Here are some of the things my Silas does:

- He gets to know my story.

- He remembers the things I tend to forget.

- He asks the questions I tend to avoid.

- He notices patterns I don’t see.

- He reminds me who I really am.

You are not imposing on him. He gets as much out of the relationship as you do. He needs you to call him. Everyone needs a few moments each day to get out of their own head and focus on another person.

Chipping Away At Your Ever-Present "Lust Noise"

These presently uber-popular prescription diabetes / weight loss pharmaceuticals (weekly injectables) claim to diminish the volume (think sound) of patient's "food noise" as they go about their day-to-day activities.  Patients describe "food noise" as the Siren Song of eating.  Hence, by reducing that noise, resisting compulsive food intake is made substantially easier.

Scientists don't understand exactly how this pharmaceutical works internally to accomplish this.

But I have a theory.

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You'll hear the notion of neuroplasticity A LOT within (virtual groups) Samson Society.  This is the notion / theory that our brain can "rewire" itself, therein forming "new neuro-pathways" over time.

If you give credit to the meaning of the word plastic, it implies being shaped / formed ONCE into a new shape / form.  It's a violent process that takes its fair share of energy to pull off.  

There are certainly certain engineered forms of material plastics whose potential is designed-in to be easily recycled / reformed / repurposed, but mostly, the term plastic implies one significant "shaping" only.  One and done.  Use the newly shaped object and discard it.

Hence, scientific research now seems to point towards the fact that the brain isn't at all neuroplastic.  Nonetheless, it can move towards new information / understanding, and as such, abandon routes used prior - once new ones are established.  But this takes not only time but the will for the brain to move towards "blue ocean" (new territory).  And as stated prior (whilst staying with my materials plastic analogy), this is a violent, energy-intense process for the brain to accomplish.  All the while warranting no guarantee of true recovery return in the end.

Regarding the brain's willingness to do this, I'm convinced there must be motivation / motivators (positive or negative or some combination) therein.  Otherwise, there's no true gain or win in doing so, and sans motivation / motivators (positive / negative), the mind won't be convinced.

And, based on personal experience / observation, that motivator needs to come (to some degree or another) in the form of seemingly uninterruptable / uninterrupted pain.

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A few weeks back, I hit the pause button on my role as a Silas to one particular young man.  He and I had been walking closely together for +/-6 months.

Why did I do this?

There was no will for his brain to move towards blue ocean.  

His upper-class life was absolutely defined by safety net after safety net after safety net.  Whether it was his church, his parents, his wife, his role as a student (professional college), all around him were safety nets.  There was no need for him to fear any real consequences related to choosing to indulge in compulsive sexual sin.  For he was convinced that none of the safety nets would ever be removed as a result.  

This young man was quite transparent with everyone within his sphere of influence (all mentioned above) regarding his illicit behavior, but as such, he knew he could continue to get away with it Scot-free.  

No motivation to move towards blue ocean = zero chance of recovery.

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Committing / experiencing Samson Society, for Rob, has been rooted in blue ocean.  My motivation came from the stifling, consistently debilitating emotional pain via my job loss back in September of 2013 (I'd broken my employer's IT policy).  Via that emotional trauma, I developed PTSD which was hellacious.  This 18-month brain torture positioned me - no holds barred - towards blue ocean.  Not once did I look to anything familiar related to therapeutic healing.  Instead, it was boots-on-the-ground, facing west (not once turning to the right or the left) and marching forward into the unknown.  

I absolutely had to get help / healing for my tormented / traumatized brain.

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After the devastation of Hurricane Katrina (2005) in New Orleans, LA, Houston, TX stepped up and agreed to "receive" a massive number of impoverished (now homeless) New Orleanians who'd lost everything due to the storm.  If I remember correctly, they were bussed to Houston, caravaning west in one accord.  

The situation in NOLA immediately following the hurricane was bleak.  Levees had failed which had precipitated massive flooding, utilities were down (water / electricity), and looting / crime were rampant.  Keep in mind too that this was late August of that year.  Temps were close to 100 at 100% humidity.

The housing within the Lower Ninth Ward of NOLA was literally wiped away by the storm, and no one truly realized just how apocalyptic the situation would become - literally overnight.  

NOLA has been known for rampant crime for decades, and back then, things were no different.  Much of this is fueled culturally via substance abuse.  NOLA has always been a destination city (drunken tourism) that leaves little incentive to actually put down roots therein.   

Houston, TX is about as culturally opposite to NOLA as one might imagine.  And yet, here these poor homeless blacks were.  There amongst, literally surrounded by, all those generous, cowboy-hat wearing Texans. 

Most of them never left Houston.  Even after being given an opportunity to return to a "rebuilt NOLA".  For their lives were better thanks to the blue ocean experience they'd embarked upon.

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Compulsive sin is tied to memory.  

That's what it comes down to.  Memory and calculated risk.

You recall what you experienced prior (& how pleasurably rewarding it was), and from there, you make a decision to undergo a calculated risk to move, once again, in that direction.  Your brain does this on repeat.

Memory is integral to the brain's motivation to never charting a new course (blue ocean).

I'm convinced these uber-popular "food noise" reducing drugs are targeting specific food memories within those who're prescribed these medications.  And based on what I've read, many of these patients are also seeing a reduction in libido.  This leads me to believe, even more, that pleasurable memory is what's being targeted, and that it's creeping over into other areas of patient's brains.

Once patients stop taking these drugs (injecting themselves weekly), the "food noise" returns instantly with exponential volume.  This results in patients gaining even more weight (than they were prior to taking the meds) as they make up for lost glutton time.  So, in many ways, it's like a medically-assisted fast, and once it's over with, it's time to celebrate at Golden Corral restaurant!

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Speaking personally (over the past almost ten years), I've experienced 5% recovery each year of being involved in Samson Society.  I never missed a weekly meeting, whether I was attending or hosting.  I have attended Samson Society intensive weekends, Samson Society story weekends, National Retreats year after year after year.  Plus, I've connected with too many Samson guys to count, listening to story after story whilst praying earnestly with them at every given opportunity.  

And I'm still doing this.  Each and every week.  Headed west.  Not looking to either my left or my right.  

I've grown to love the journey.  It's so not mundane.  Plus, I no longer feel enslaved to my brain's previous repetitive pursuits for those memories literally are essentially CLOSED ROADS..  And, I am so proud of myself for what I've done.  Especially considering the high stakes involved in never truly seeing any return on my emotional / time investment.    

Thanks be to God for Samson Society.  It is BY NO MEANS a quick fix, but The Path led Rob in a holistically better direction.  My brain is so much better off now than it was in August 2014 (when I first stepped foot into an in-person Samson Society meeting here in the Jackson Metro).

Lagniappe

What Is A Silas?

Here is what our experience tells us: You can get sober from anything going to meetings, but you can’t stay sober just going to meetings. That’s why, in the end, it isn’t even about the meetings. The meetings are a portal into the brotherhood. Samson really lives BETWEEN the meetings in relationships, conversations, friendships. Christianity, properly understood, is a team sport, not an individual event. We’ve been failing because we’ve been playing the wrong game! If we play 1-on-1 against a superior opponent, we will fail.

The lead person on your team we call a Silas. He is the one you are in regular communication with. There is an element of accountability, but it is not focused on sin management. If I just focus on the behavior, I run the risk of mastering that specific behavior and becoming a self-righteous Pharisee. Instead, I give another person (my Silas) real-time access to my whole life. What I’m feeling, thinking, doing, and thinking of doing.

My Silas is not an expert. He is a guy on the same road walking the same direction. But when it comes to my life, he has an advantage over me – he’s not in it! That gives him a perspective on my life that I don’t have. There are whole parts of my life that I can’t see because I’m inside it. Like trying to read the label from inside the bottle.

Here are some of the things my Silas does:

- He gets to know my story.

- He remembers the things I tend to forget.

- He asks the questions I tend to avoid.

- He notices patterns I don’t see.

- He reminds me who I really am.

You are not imposing on him. He gets as much out of the relationship as you do. He needs you to call him. Everyone needs a few moments each day to get out of their own head and focus on another person.

Hi Mate! (Reciprocal Mover & Shaker)

Sledge was his Internet pseudonym.  It didn't take but just a few days before he divulged his real name, Scott, to me.  Scott was a mover & shaker.  Brilliant, creative, funny and full of hope and joy.  And what made our friendship truly unique was his nationality.  Scott was Australian, having lived in Brisbane all of his life.

We became fast friends thanks to "Yahoo! Groups" back around 2008.  I'd posted a couple of sentences within a group dubbed G0YS or somesuch, and my post clearly stated my intentionality towards making a friend who could relate to my situation.  

Within 24 hours, he responded.  We were the same age, evangelical Christians, both same-sex attracted & married to wonderful women with multiple young children.

And though Scott was living (& had been for some time) a double-life (his wife wasn't privy to his sexuality), he found in Rob someone who was living proof that there was another way.

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Yet, I wasn't cognizant of any of this.  I'd made that post in desperation.  Having never met another man who shared my story, here in Mississippi or otherwise, I was fast approaching making some very poor choices / compromises relative to the faithfulness I'd owned up to via my (then) 11-year-old marriage vows.  

Meeting Scott was like a dream come true.  I walked on air for months afterwards, and before long, he was telling me he loved me at the end of each phone call / email.

I'd never had another man speak those words to me.

It was surreal, and it meant so much for such a time as that.

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My friendship with Scott soon propelled me to open up about my sexuality with local men.  Namely men within the pastorate.  And surprisingly, it was well received.  "In-person" friendships developed overnight, and from there, I found myself well positioned to truly begin discussing / writing about my issue with gay porn.  This was a critical step for Rob that I believe fell directly in line with God's will.

All the while, Scott and I began growing apart, and much of it had to do with his unwillingness to open up to local Aussies regarding his sexuality.  I believe too, whilst looking back, that he absolutely (still) enjoyed chronicling his digital travails (online) searching for (illicit) "fun" in the form of "Sledge".  

It's important to know too that Scott wasn't completely opposed to normalizing same-sex relationships that involved physical intimacy whereas I disagreed wholeheartedly therein.  His position was founded in both sympathies combined with a very liberal / libertarian view of society at large.

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The day that I told Scott (via email) that I was needing a sabbatical from our friendship, he replied - at length - almost immediately.  It was such the beautiful sendoff that was full of tremendous grace.  From there, I deleted every digital exchange we'd made and moved forward with a thankful heart.  

I knew one year sans communication between us would pulverize our relationship, but I was willing to go forward with that knowing that I had become his crutch more than anything else.  

It had quickly become apparent to me that one-on-one friendships like the one I had developed with Scott grow surprisingly fast but can also develop their own kind of implied loneliness due to their pseudo co-dependency therein.  

After our formal decoupling, my friendships with local men continued to expand / thrive.  In fact, I found my first "Silas" just one year or so later.  And that relationship sprung forth from both of our individual desires for sanctification (primarily from compulsive sexual sin).  

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Fast forward sixteen years to today.

This past January an Aussie appeared within one of the Zoom thumbnails during just another "Brain Changers" Samson Society meeting.  And wouldn't you know it, but he too was - no doubt - a mover & shaker.  Brilliant, creative, funny and full of hope and joy.

Sound familiar?

This time though, my new Aussie friend is from Perth.  I remembered Perth because Scott's best friend lived there (she was an architect).

What's comforting to me regarding this new platonic opportunity is how much I distinctly remember learning from my long, long-distance friendship with Scott all those years ago.  As such, I have to wonder, what's God got in store for me now, taking my newfound friend into consideration? 

There's something magical about befriending someone from Australia.  I mean, it's just cool.  But especially so seeing the similarities between the past and the present.

I'm hopeful this one outlasts what Scott and I so enjoyed for those +/-18 months.  I'm thinking there's a good chance it will, taking into consideration the baked in Samson community that surrounds us both, combined with the relational seasoning that's occurred within me, in large part due to my involvement within Samson Society.

  

The Samson Society Multiverse

When I first stepped into a Samson Society meeting in August 2014, there was only one meeting (in-person) for me to attend, and that was the Wednesday at 6 PM CST meeting at First Baptist Church Jackson (Summit Counseling suite).  That in-person meeting is still going strong.  It introduced me to a men's ministry that's changed my life for the better.  

But I didn't stay within that group.  Eventually, I migrated to the Grace Crossing Samson Society group (Gluckstadt), attending there for +/-1 year.  

The initial FBC Jackson group had a particular flavor that was quite therapeutic while the second group I attended was more relational.  Neither group was better than the other, though the contrast opened my eyes to just how different Samson groups can trend.  

From there, I started my own group (Lakeside Pres).  And, of course, mine became somewhat eclectic.  A combination of what I'd witnessed within the previous two, inaugural Jackson Metro Samson groups. 

That Lakeside Pres Samson group continued on for almost four years (2017-2021).  We met on Saturday mornings at 7 AM.  

Two in-person groups spun-off from the one I facilitated.  One in Brandon (39042) and then Pearl.  

I then dived into the virtual Samson Society groups in December of 2021.  "Make Thursdays Great Again" was unlike anything I could have imagined.  It was the Price Is Right version of a Samson Society meeting, all thanks to the electrifying facilitator, Mr. Justin Schwind.  It literally became one of the highlights of my week (Thursdays at 7 PM CST).  And it's still going strong.

After royally pissing off a newbie Samson brother who too was a regular "MTGA" attendee, I made a discreet exit (I did not want - in any way - to hinder his recovery via my continued presence).  I pivoted into "Brain Changers" which meets on Sundays at 5 PM CST.  "Brain Changers" was a familiar return to what the Lakeside Pres Samson meeting (that I facilitated) felt like, all those years earlier.  

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I hear more and more of Samson guys committing to multiple Samson meetings over the course of one week.  Many of these men attest to attending a meeting every single day.  

If you're familiar with the virtual Samson Society meetings, this commitment is doable (there are multiple meetings on the schedule for each day of the week as well as multiple types of meetings - some that allow cross talk, book studies, etc.).  

Why do this?  Why commit to attending a Samson meeting every single day?

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I believe the best answer to this question is as follows:

To directly combat compulsive sexual sin.

What does that mean exactly - compulsive sexual sin?

Compulsory:  Required, mandatory, obligatory

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When you're in bondage to compulsive sexual sin, you need solid grounding / commitment to recovery, therefore a once-a-week Samson Society meeting likely isn't going to suffice.

Let me repeat that:

When you're in bondage to compulsive sexual sin, you need solid grounding / commitment to recovery, therefore a once-a-week Samson Society meeting likely isn't going to suffice.

What's the true benefit of this approach to recovery?

It's twofold.

Firstly, during every 24 hours, you're spending one of those within a Samson Society meeting.  It serves as a recovery datum / opportunity to reset that's difficult to ignore.

Secondly, it forces you out of your own head.  Exposing you to fresh faces each day.  Faces that bring a specific color to the meeting.  Countless, unexpected hues drive away boredom, feelings of repetitiveness.  Think of it as the Samson Society multiverse.

This rigorous approach is highly effective for those who are just "too far gone".  

Think of attending a meeting a day in the same light as prioritizing an hour of exercise each day relative to being in tremendously poor physical health (& therefore on your death bed).  

It's exactly the same tenacious, turbocharged approach.  

For those of you who're in bondage to compulsive sexual sin, be encouraged to intentionally counteract this frame of mind by exploiting the availability of Samson Society meetings - to your recovery's advantage.  You will not regret the time invested / commitment therein.

Wield Your Positive Influence Here Within Samson Society

One of the most substantial outcomes relative to teenage Rob wielding his (positive) influence happened during an (snow day) ice storm.  The year was likely somewhere around early 1988.  The Christmas prior, I'd been gifted a Yamaha keyboard (though I actually didn't play keyboard with any semblance of true ability).  

My best friend, Greg, on the other hand, did play keyboard with envious skill, and he'd just purchased his own Yamaha synthesizer (from Service Merchandise, no doubt) in response to having "test driven" my own.  

Since I was always looking to spend time with Greg, and knowing that we both enjoyed our mutual friend, Todd's companionship (who just happened to own a Casio keyboard), our keyboard trio, Infinity, serendipitously came together.

And man, oh man, did we three enjoy our time together, composing and practicing, practicing, practicing before finally performing (school talent shows, etc.).  And it all took root with the three of us sitting cross-legged on my small bedroom's cut-pile carpeted floor, laughing and carrying-on, as only us three nerdy Mississippi teens could do during a mid-January late '80s snow day.  

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Being cognizant of (& comfortable wielding) your positive influence is the very best toolset at your disposal as a Samson guy.  Each of us is unique with our specific gifting in this regard.  Some are writers, others are encouragers (spoken word), others still seemingly sages relative to most any circumstance.  And of course, it's a given that communities like Samson Society are perfectly suited to positive influencers.  How and why is this?   

(And though it's certainly priority number one to focus in on your individual recovery, there's still no reason to not keep as a very close second, the opportunistic influence you wield relative to supporting another's.)

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1.  Shared interests

First and foremost is recovery.  Every Samson guy can relate to that.  From there, it's usually humor and deep-seated respect that establish the parallel courses of so many men within Samson Society.  

2.  The need to run interference against despair

A true Samson guy enters in as a result of his recent confrontation with personal, marriage, vocational, spiritual crisis.  Many Samson guys have experienced suicidal thoughts / ideations as a result of this crisis.  Tenured Samson men are forever reminded of this starting point since they've lived it themselves.  As such, their positive influence isn't necessitated to ignore other guys' pain but to counterbalance it.  As a reminder that despair is not and will never be permanent.  Hope exists down the road.

3.  It's within the very DNA of a Samson Society meeting (format)

Every meeting you choose to attend, your presence positions you to influence, from the very moment you log / step foot in the door.  As Christians, carrying the Holy Spirit inside of us, we minister to each other therein.  During share time, as we break up into smaller groups, the opportunity for influence becomes more granular / fine-toothed as more individualized opportunity is placed in our lap.  

4.  Serving another man as his Silas is not unlike being Jiminy Cricket.

Who doesn't want an assigned / appointed friend to come alongside them during arguably the most trying season of their life?  Especially if that man has had the resolve to walk out some portion of his own recovery.  The very presence of one's Silas can do wonders to positively influence.  From there, his listening ear and thoughtful questions only add to the powerful elixir of relational accountability.   

5.  It feels absolutely natural to open your pocketbook and give back.

Positive influencers are not bashful towards putting their money where their heart is.  It's as simple as that.  

Lagniappe

Join Me In Recognizing / Celebrating "Jesus January" - Starting In Three Days!

We're going to focus within this post on monks (an applicable subject, don't you think?).  Specifically, those who lived during the Middle Ages, long before Mr. Nate Larkin wrote his brilliant tome, Samson & The Pirate Monks.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Monks.  Those men of the religious order who resided (past tense) within monasteries, wearing those heavy (usually brown), drab, floor-length robes whilst sporting those gosh awful haircuts.  

Why?

Everyone knows that monks took great pride in their individual penises.  

Do what?  Why?

Well, as you can imagine, its God-given appearance effectively reflected each individual man as they went about their days doing whatever it was that monks do (did) there in those monasteries / in and around the grounds.  You do realize they all pretty much looked the same (whilst fully robed)?

Considering the Pirate Monks of 2023, this is a far cry.  Take, for example, the Neapolitan kaleidoscope of Pirate Monks on site at this past November's National Samson Society retreat in Van, Texas.

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Now you may be asking, how was it that these men of said religious order knew so much about individual penises there amongst the brotherhood?  I'll answer that with the perfect foundational prequel.

The same way Jesus and his disciples were privy to this noteworthy, male reproductive organ truth.

When you do (every aspect of) life together - literally - one's phallus (length, girth, overall shape / body) can easily become a calling card.  In jest firstly, but too, in accordance with the "rules of masculine adjudication" (rank & file).  And, of course, who wouldn't want their penis looking its very best whilst exposed to / up against other's / other's opinion?

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Monks were known to honor / recognize the first month of each calendar year as a season of "penis sabbath".  In other words, other than urinating, it was hands-off!  Too, during this entire month, they were charged to sleep buck naked in order to grant a full 1/3 of that 31-day period to their penises sans loincloths.  (Bringing about a proper genitalia "airing out" via the privacy of their individual bunks.) 

Where did this practice originate?

Historically, monks strongly believed Jesus and his disciples participated within the same January penis fast and did so out of respect for "what lay ahead" of them (February-December).  Having celebrated Christmas (Jesus' birthday) / New Year's with aplomb, Jesus encouraged his bros to be intentional with their genitalia at the outset of the New Year. 

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This practice lovingly became dubbed "Jesus January" sometime around the same time said month was christened "Dry January".  

So now you know.

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You may be asking yourself, "How can I possibly abstain from intercourse throughout the first month of 2024?"  

If you were to add up all of the calendar days your wife typically menstruates over the course of the calendar year, it would add up to +/- 30 days.  Obviously, that equates to one month.  These days of post-fertile menstrual flush provide time for her genitals to rest, resulting in renewed health (& beauty / vitality) going forward.  

Come February, after adhering to the "Jesus January" sabbatical, your wife will be pleasantly impressed to see her husband's toolset well rested / optimized for pleasure during the forth-coming (sorry) months.

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What can one specifically expect if we Pirate Monks adhere to this "Au Naturale" approach to our penises next month?   

I'm not going to provide any case studies here, but I will say that one of the greatest, if not the greatest collateral gain is one's intentional decoupling from known arousal devices.  Perhaps, for you, that's Internet porn.  And, if you make that choice for January, how might this decidedly intentional approach cascade into the remainder of the winter / spring of 2024?  Only good can come of it.  Don't you agree?  

Everyone wants their junk to look and perform at its very best.  Here's your chance to properly pamper yours alongside Rob.  

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One final heed.  Sleeping buck naked obviously demands a more regimented approach to bedsheet laundering, therefore ESPECIALLY IF you don't sleep alone, be considerately Cinderellaish about not allowing more than one week to pass before installing fresh linens.

Here's to a phenomenal NEW YEAR!  God bless.

Lagniappe