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Two Pastors & A Parachurch Minister & Their Moral Failings / That Which I Can't Comprehend / Architects Aren't Typically Arsonists

This past Sunday, we had some visitors (new friends) to Lakeside Pres over for lunch.  We had a delightful time, with the primary purpose being introducing their oldest daughter to our youngest (in hopes of brandishing a relational entry point towards Lakeside's youth group).

As we were dialoguing about Lakeside Pres' youth ministry (as our family has come to experience it), the wife of the visiting couple chose to bring up a "creepy" youth pastor she was under the tutelage of when she was a teen.  She went on to say that her commentary regarding this man she'd never divulged even to her husband.  As such, she was visibly tense as a result.

Angie and I then cited our very first youth pastor (back in the '80s) at First Baptist Church Jackson, and his swift termination due to similar behavior(s).  I mentioned too (in general terms) the numerous instances I'd had described to me relative to outright pastoral abuse towards teens.

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When Angie and I were faced with our beloved youth pastor being fired abruptly at First Baptist Church Jackson, we were just old enough (14/15) to understand that something terrible must have gone down to warrant this.  Everyone loved Rick.  He was incredibly approachable, a capable Bible teacher, etc.   

The powers-that-be, in response, then hired a female youth pastor to replace him.  I can't help but believe that her having a vagina and breasts gave those decision-makers some peace of mind going forward.  

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Immediately following my graduation from college in 1995 (Mississippi State University's School of Architecture), I was invited to join a Young Business Leaders' (Jackson) Bible study.  I did so, but the small group I ended up in didn't have legs.  From there, I drifted away from this local parachurch ministry until the Executive Director wooed me to return (4-5 years later).  

I was delighted to then sit weekly with this Executive Director within a new Bible study group made up of 5-6 local Christian men (all of which were new faces to me).  I was a good bit older (& wiser), therefore my appreciation for said group had shifted immensely.  

This ED was incredibly approachable, a very capable Bible teacher, etc. (he reminded me of Rick, the disgraced youth pastor, in many ways).

Sadly, it was the August 2015 Ashley Madison hack / exposure that eventually preempted this parachurch minister's termination from Young Business Leaders.  

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During the fall of 2010, the then youth pastor at Lakeside Pres (he was terminated in January 2012 / last day August of that same year) came to me for support relative to his online "porn addiction".  

Though I'd never heard the phrase "porn addiction", it scared the hell out of me.  Especially in light of it coming from the lips of our youth pastor (who came across as a genuinely nice guy).  

Keep in mind that our oldest daughter, at this time, was seven, therefore our children weren't YET under this youth pastor's guise.

A few months after his request / confession to Rob, this younger man was placed on probation by Lakeside Pres' elders (they weren't privy to his "porn addiction"), giving him six months to "right the youth ministry ship" (he never did).

From there, he took another youth pastorate position (within another state) which only lasted a few weeks before his termination there.

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All three of these pastors / ministers were sidelined (at least partially) by sexual sin.  

I was thinking, thinking, thinking last night about these men (particularly the last two because they're more recent).  It's important to note that the only one I'm still in touch with is the latter.  He and I chat every week.  

Those this may sound like a weird statement, I'm going to declare it.  I believe these men were somehow feeding off of their rebellious / morally corrupt behavior for a distinct emotional purpose.  It's just that I've no real understanding of what was being fed or how.  For them to be M Divs (Master of Divinity) throughout (or at least working towards) is what's so bizarre / counterintuitive from the standpoint of attempting to understand why they were so needy to begin with.

My still friend (who I chat with weekly), I believe, attempts to drown out what's left of his (years later) regret relative to what he risked losing (which he eventually did) in order to obtain that which I couldn't back then nor still can't comprehend.  

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In closing, I'm convinced that certain men (no matter their chosen vocation) have powerful drivers that put them in harm's way in order to feel - a certain way.  

My friend used to talk about feeling "anything" as his ultimate goal (which I used to chalk up to a cop out).  

Was that the end goal?  Intensely feeling a certain way?  If so, how did the emotional life of these men become so lobotomized to begin with?  Especially in light of them pursuing the pastorate.   

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One final thought (& this may sound ridiculous):

None of these three men were Associate / Senior Pastors at a church I was a member of.  Typically, the Youth Pastor position is a steppingstone to these.  As such, these men's true colors were exposed therein (before gaining access to more responsibility / influence via a higher position).  

Parachurch ministries, in my opinion, don't equate to church.  Hence, though those men may believe themselves to be pastors, they are not.    

I'm so fortunate to have befriended / been ministered to by numerous pastors / assistant pastors throughout my life.  These were men (& women) who simply didn't have this default impropriety that reeked such havoc within the lives of their peers. 

Nonetheless, each of these remain within the same plane hierarchically.  All had value for such a time as that.

"This Old House / Culture Of Heaven" - JR Everhart

I just had the most vivid dream of an old farmhouse.  The dream ended in the most intimate conversation with God I’ve had in a very long time.  I speak to God daily (pray), but haven’t felt his presence like this in a while.  It was like he was sitting next to me, and we were talking back and forth like old friends.  I was full of questions, and he was full of answers. 

In my dream, I was running around this old house trying to escape the trauma I had experienced inside.  At times the house was on fire, and I was trying to escape the flames or put out the fire (I had the distinct impression it was the only home I had).   In spite of all the horrors and tragedy that it represented; it was my home.  Hence, I felt certain that I simply needed to remodel it / fix this or that.  But it seemed like the more I tried to "put out the fires" and find some kind of peace, in turn, the more I would find people hiding in the dark corners of the house that had hurt or even victimized me in some way.  This then involved me having to fight to get free of them, thereby once again feeling all the emotional trauma that I experienced because of these people.  I even found myself crying in my sleep whilst dreaming all this.  When I awoke my face was wet.  This was a hugely emotional experience for me! 

At times inside this dream, I would escape outside and run around the property.  I was constantly scanning the house for the next fire to put out or intruder to face and evict.  As such, all of this was so exhausting, leaving me with the impression that I was only just barely surviving at all.  Therefore, I concluded that I couldn’t keep up with this pace much longer.  I finally surrendered by running into the center of this house where the living room was, falling to my knees before God.  From there, I transferred to him all of my stress by saying, “Do what you will with this old house, I don’t care anymore…burn it down if you have to…” 

At this point God started to speak to me.  His response was, "This old house has been your life.  It’s filled with a multitude of horrors, moreso than most men have to endure.  That being abuse, heartbreak, trauma, disappointment, failure, and your own dysfunction and bad choices.  You could have spent the remaining days of your life within the exhausting battle of putting out fires and fighting the shame of it all, but instead, you invited me into your home many years ago and together we have slowly rebuilt a peaceful residency.  Here again, just now, it’s me that you’ve run to for help and restoration.  I will always answer your cry for help.  Your faith in my presence within your home warms my heart.  To see my children so convinced that I am good and ready to help them makes me glad.” 

At this point I asked God a series of personal questions about my life.  He answered everyone, and please know that some of those answers were not easy to hear.  But knowing them as truth brought resolution to my soul.  It was amazing that even when he was divulging hard truth(s), there were no negative overtones.  Instead, his voice was gentle and full of love.  You should know though that I truly wanted to hear different answers about certain things, especially regarding my love life.  Nonetheless, his truths were easy to hear and accept because everything he said was merely truth in love.  There was no accusing nor condemning me.  Also, there was nothing stern about his words, and he never mentioned my sin issues or struggles that I’m usually so focused on.  It was just a quiet conversation with my Heavenly Father.  A Heavenly Father who loves me and only wishes the best for my life.  Therefore, this dream / experience has truly confirmed my views about his character and my mental image of him as the perfect emotionally available father.  I'm so thankful for him.  He was so quick to answer all my questions.  No doubt, a loving father wouldn’t withhold information I desperately need to live out a full life. 

In conclusion, it seems to me that the more I choose to believe in my Heavenly Father's goodness and gentle loving character, the closer I am to him.  He speaks volumes through his word, therefore I love the Bible.  I always have.  But this experience was a next-level-connection that is hard to explain.  I felt for just an instant the very culture of heaven.  The accuser was not present, and I was surrounded by love and comfort.  

This was a very real experience for me, and I'm hopeful it will resonant within my spirit and in my life for many years to come.  Thank you, Lord for being so available to my cause!  It’s amazing how much he shows up in my life when I just choose to believe.  I'm convinced now that that’s the real fight of faith.  Looking past the accuser's lie - that God doesn’t want to be close to such a failure as we are. When, in actuality, he greatly desires to be right in the middle of it all, pulling out purpose from all our problems. 

Advocating For Your Children (Including The Dunces / Queers)

What does it mean to be an advocate?

This is a complicated ask.

Advocacy isn't merely voting in favor of another person.  It's actually using your intelligence to understand that person firstly (to the best of your ability) prior to supporting them (customized) therein.  This is a time-consuming process that requires your complete focus on someone other than yourself.

To do this (advocacy) well, you cannot establish yourself as more (better) smart, more (better) straight, more (better) anything.  Otherwise, true advocacy cannot occur.  For advocacy is the purest form of sacrificial love between two human beings.  

In summary, advocacy is a bottom-up support.  It's attempting to elevate another person relative to their value TOWARDS THEMSELVES.  From there, others around them (hopefully) buy into this (infectious) self-renew and continue forward with the trend (thereby accelerating the elevation).

Individuals who'd benefit from advocacy - for whatever reason - cannot or will not advocate for themselves.  Regarding the latter, if they've been brainwashed to believe they've no / lesser value, advocating on their behalf will be that much harder to pull off successfully.  This is due to the codependency that tends to result from said brainwashing.

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Parents of multiple children who refuse to advocate for certain offspring befuddle me via their discriminatory behavior.

Here're two thoughts that come to mind:

-  Isn't a parent - by default - qualified to be the ideal advocate for their children?  Particularly if they're a biological parent?

-  What benefit (to the parent, in particular) is it to withhold advocacy from one of multiple children?

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Please consider the following disclaimer:  I'm not referring here to rebellious / disobedient / delinquent children.  

Instead, I'm referring to children who aren't homogeneous amongst the ranks (within the fam).  Perhaps they're NOTICEABLY less intelligent, less masculine / feminine, etc. than the other offspring.  As such, they're in need / owed (I would argue) - to an even greater degree - of parental advocacy.  

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Therefore, what might this advocacy actually look like?

For discussion's sake, let's say you are the parent of four beautiful children, all over the age of eighteen.  Two of these children are up and out of the house, living as productive, responsible adults.  But one of the remaining two is noticeably less intelligent (& always has been), and this dramatically impacts his short-term memory.  Yet, he's far more athletically built (larger skeleton) than his (other male) siblings.  

As such, wouldn't you advocate for this child, specifically as it pertains to his athleticism (noticeable physical strength / prowess)?  And don't assume I'm referring to team sports here.  What about strength training, CrossFit, etc.?  Activities that are biased towards athleticism without the requirement of above average intelligence.  

Wouldn't advocating for your child's customized success therein likely reap substantial benefits within his self-esteem, thereby improving your relationship therein?

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But what if you, as the parent, didn't speak that strength training / CrossFit language due to you yourself not having an athletic bone in your body?  What then?

You reach out to someone who does and entrust them to become your child's advocate (whilst keeping a watchful eye).

This is not rocket science.  Yet, I'm beginning to believe the (parents) embarrassment problem (towards their dunce / queer child) doesn't lie within the brain.  No, I'm now convinced that this is a heart problem. 

These parents simply do not care to either enmesh or burden themselves with the notion of advocacy for this specific offspring.  Hence, these children are left to flounder / rot on the vine.  

But why?  This only hurts them in the end by burdening everyone within the family that much further.  

I'm so confused.  What's the benefit of deeming a child - as I've described here - a lost cause?

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The Voices We Hear in Suffering | Desiring God

Happy Independence Day!

We Americans enjoy many inalienable rights, one of which is freedom of speech.  

Be encouraged Christian Samson men to speak up about your faith.  Specifically, as it pertains to your need for this community of men.   

Why?  

As Christians, there should be a zeal towards evangelism.  What better way to spotlight Jesus Christ than relaying your story to a new / old friend, in hopes of planting a similar glorification seed within their heart?

To God be the glory.

(No Longer In) Bondage To The Thrust

I never would have known my local Samson friend was so spellbound by hot women 'till we had (a repeat) restaurant lunch.  As such, a troupe of high school girls traipsed in, and eventually sat adjacent to us.  These were pristine, rich, white girls wearing the latest designer clothes / hairstyles.  There was 6-8 of them, and they were all bubbly and giggly as they carried their sizable pocket computers like individual bars of gold.  These girls were undoubtedly students at the across-the-highway private academy, and they were there at this restaurant on "lunch break" (having driven their parents' BMWs and Mercedes-Benz across the way).  Likely many of them came from heady stock - CPAs, surgeons & prominent business owners, having been expectedly pampered throughout their short lives.

At the time, this friend was my Silas 3.0, and the tension he was experiencing due to the "availableness" of this troupe was impossible to miss.  I remember feeling powerless and a bit annoyed but altogether grateful as well that I wasn't in his intensive heterosexual shoes.  

All in all, I vividly recall him being visibly distraught as he forced himself to not glance their way.  It seemingly took all his strength in order to NOT capture / captivate / become spellbound by their sexual prowess.  As an aside, him wearing his work uniform likely only added to the intensity of this moment, serving as a reminder of his past, pre-conversion (Christianity) hedonism with many a similar lay.  

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Saturday, (7/1) my wife and I executed our typical weekend workout at the local Y.  Never before had I seen one particular mid to late 20s man in there prior.  His upper body was lean and svelte, but his legs - damn his legs - were stunningly beautiful.  

Stunningly beautiful legs = muscular, hairy, beautifully proportioned.  Bulky thighs / calves, seamless knees / ankles.  Tan flesh.  Either dark or blonde (leg) hair.  And they must be long, thick hairs that drape over the muscled flesh like a silk carpet.

This young man was no doubt athletic.  Perhaps he was a runner or a rock climber or both.  He could have been a varsity / collegiate (baseball) catcher.  Anything requiring that constant crouching down that builds lower body strength and the subsequent mass.  For that's where his strength lay.  Lower body.

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Well over a decade ago, I showed up to sing (routine Wednesday night rehearsal) in our church choir at Lakeside Pres, and the melodic tenor (who was a new guy to me and the church in general) sitting adjacent was wearing shorts (as I was).  He was around my age (late 30s at the time), and due to the stunning beauty of his long legs, I literally came close to creaming my shorts as we sang to the Lord - our austere Presbyterian tunes - over the course of that hour.

Let me repeat:  these were some stunningly beautiful legs, and they were close enough for me to (accidently?) rub up against.    

The owner of said legs was married (his wife too sang in the choir), and as a couple, were also new to the area.  Not long after this up close legebration, they decided to move away to greener pastures which resulted in him taking his stunningly beautiful legs (as well as his incredible voice) to the Pacific Northwest.  Not long after that, I stopped singing in the choir, covertly mourning my loss.

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The summer after I graduated high school (1990), I had to take College Algebra before entering into the freshman architecture school curriculum at Mississippi State University.  I took this course, along with English Composition I, at Holmes Community College's then newly opened Ridgeland campus.  

Upon entering the latter's classroom, I found myself sitting across from a handful of high school (Madison-Ridgeland Academy) peers (two girls and one guy), one of which was a varsity athlete (football, baseball, track) who I'd never once spoken to.  It's important to know that at our high school, the boys weren't allowed to wear shorts.  Hence, blue jeans were the norm.

To my delight, there was no such dress code here at community college.

"Trevor" was wearing athletic shorts during that first day of English Comp I and every day afterwards.  Our class met thrice weekly for +/-90 minutes, therefore I had a front and center view of his stunningly beautiful legs each and every day we met.  This entire experience served to both captivate and suffocate me simultaneously.  For it both enlightened and horrified Rob as to what he was primarily attracted to in certain other men.

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Masculine sexual activity is all about thrusting (movement of the erect penis in and out of the wet vagina).  There's no way around this.  That thrusting is done via the lower body.  The entire porn industry is built upon this animalistic movement.  This beautiful movement that powerfully personifies the act of intercourse.  

Interestingly enough, my Silas 2.0 masturbated by humping the couch / bed prior to ejaculating within his briefs.  I'd never met another guy who did this.  He refused to masturbate any other way, having "taught himself" this technique as a boy.  That dry humping, of course, is a thrusting movement that's lower body executed.  According to him, he only needed 60-90 seconds to climax therein via this technique (efficiency was first priority for this Samson guy - in everything).    

To summarize, this lower body thrusting is decidedly heterosexual intercourse anatomical vocabulary.  As such, the lower body of a man may very well equate to this visually.  And that is definitely the case for me.

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To circle back to the young man my wife and I encountered this past weekend at the Y, he not only had those aforementioned stunningly beautiful legs, but he also was very polite.  He and I spoke a couple of times, throughout our time there, as we crossed paths during our respective - 90-minute - strength training workouts.  

But what didn't occur - in the very least - was me becoming "in bondage to the thrust" as a result.  Instead, I simply acknowledged what I witnessed, and went on my way.

How did I accomplish this at this stage in my recovery?

I honestly don't know.  

Yesterday, during our "Brain Changers" virtual Samson Society meeting, the word was FREEDOM, and this narrative of mine (what I've encapsulated here) was front and center.  But, even having a full 24-hours to ruminate on this further, I still can't pinpoint what's specifically occurred to free me from these shackles.

Maybe it's simply that I've met my quota for stunningly beautiful legs.  I can tell you that I've been so very blessed to know enough men with tree trunks - as I've described here - that perhaps I've simply leveled up as a result.  It's as if that guy, "Trevor", from high school (who sat across from me for two summer months at HCC within English Comp I) has been sexual with me via the countless tree trunk brothers in Christ I've intimately (keyword) befriended since 1990.  

For I wanted nothing more than to be pursued by this guy.  That's what my sexual fantasies - involving him - revolved around.  Him befriending me prior to us having a homosexual relationship.  All throughout that summer - post high school.  

Let me be more specific.

All three of my Silases have been men who I've experienced intimacy with - on a level (I would argue) - that equates to a sexual relationship.  

To take that statement a step further...

Even without the exchange of bodily fluids, the mystique of their individual manhood(s) I've had the opportunity to observe / experience - up close and personal.  Besides these formal Silases, there've been countless other men (mostly within the framework of Samson Society) who've provided me with similar experiences.

Each of these experiences has uncovered more and more of what I longed to know and understand about men (including my own individual, reflected manhood) back in 1990.  

It's just taken a really long time to get to this point of me now knowing enough to properly level up.  

Relationships take time and SO MUCH WORK.  They're the exact opposite of sexual fantasy which are cheap and thereby overall worthless.  

I have been so blessed by Samson Society.  I realize it when I have experiences like I did this past weekend at the Y.

Lagniappe