Teach Your Offspring To Be Good Stewards Of Their Genitalia

Samson Society offers the opportunity to befriend Christian men from all different backgrounds / circumstances.  Years ago, I had the privilege of getting to know one man who shared with me how he (as a now married adult with children of his own) bravely bemoaned to his parents their refusal to educate him (during his childhood) relative to masturbation.  And interestingly enough, his parents were very intelligent, articulate, A+ parent-types (atypical) versus some of your more typical deep South dumbass adults who obliquely equate good parenting with "making sure your kids are in church".

Masturbation is a big part of most children's lives.  Even females.  Therefore, parents are obligated to educate their children regarding what can be a very awkward topic.  Because if they don't, the children are left to their own devices in terms of coming to grips (sorry) with what to do with this extraordinarily pleasurable physical experience.

Two of my three daughters were definitely "chips off the old block", and I discovered this by working to educate them about sex in general terms.  It's truly amazing what small children will divulge within the sanctity of the parent-child relationship.  Obviously, this is what makes them quite vulnerable to predators.  Hence, all the more reason for you as their parent to educate / parent them well.

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I remember all too well confessing to my dad how I'd played "doctor" with my babysitter's oldest daughter on two separate occasions (I believe this confession came when I was around ten years of age).  I described our proceedings through tears before decrying that I'd never do it again under any circumstances.  And this was simply an off the cuff confession on my part.  Years later, whilst in middle school, my father unfortunately squandered what little trust that had matured between us, and he did this by shaming me relative to my attempts to hide my (almost daily) masturbation habit.

But, it could have been worse.  There are plenty of fathers who ramp the shame factor up that much more when it comes to their children's masturbation activities.  Some of the stories I've been privileged to hear are truly jaw dropping in their cruelness.  

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A child's body is representative of a mini-adult.  Therefore, as such, children are developing / learning / exploring, all the while attempting to understand this vessel they've found themselves existing within.

I remember so vividly, for years as a child, twisting, twisting, twisting my Jockey briefs up into a knotted thong beneath my sheets in the dark when I was supposed to be asleep.  I have no idea why I felt I needed to do this.  Nonetheless, my underwear was definitely worse for wear because of it.  

I love chatting with my ten year-old.  Especially whilst walking the nature trail a few miles from our house.  She's so articulate relative to her own child-like comprehension of what sexuality is for her at this stage of life.  What pleases me most about this is her not being afraid to bring it up and discuss it with me.  For there should never be any shame associated with discussing sexuality's many details.  It is by far one of God's greatest gifts.

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I leave you with this today.

A former Samson friend's daughter developed a habitual masturbation habit which became chronic.  Even to the point of her reaching beneath her clothing in public to pacify herself.  

I'd never heard of such behavior, but then I began to think about the risks I took both as a teenager and adult relative to masturbating.  And believe me friend, there were many.

What fuels this stupid behavior?

I believe parents forget just how intoxicating masturbation can be to a child's brain, and as such, prone for distinct habitual patterns to develop rather quickly.  Patterns that often carry forward far into a child's adult life.

Why not, as a parent, seize the opportunity to guide / educate your "chip off the old block" regarding this (almost) universal activity?  Don't risk he or she being left in the dark, or worse, being taken advantage of by friends / other adults whose only motivation is to exploit your child's naivety for themselves.      

Stricken Christian? It Just Might Equate To One's Quality Of Faith

Angie, (my wife) pre-stroke (this past May), loved taking showers and hot baths.  That's not the case at all today.  Due to her disability (primarily the limited mobility within her left arm, but also the weakness in her legs), she has to take her showers seated on a plastic bench with a shower wand in her right hand (which is her fully capable arm).  

Therefore, when she's gearing up to bathe, as she was yesterday evening, her mood darkens.  For she knows she's about to experience firsthand the ramifications of her physical suffering as it restricts her from doing what she once loved with ease.

To emotionally complicate matters for her, our house has a jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom.  It was one of the primary features that drew us in whilst house hunting two decades ago.  Since May, that tub has sat empty most days, and this serves as a reminder of what once was a better quality of life. 

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A few years back, I had a catholic friend (originally from Iowa) who'd relocated his family to Birmingham by way of Houston, TX.  Anthony was a very sharp, very handsome Italian guy who also just happened to be an exercise addict.  I'd never met someone addicted to exercise, though I'd had friends prior who'd been married to such, therefore I knew of it from a distance.  Nonetheless, Anthony relished being "the fittest guy in the room" by his standards, and I'll have to admit, he was head & shoulders above most guys relative to being the ideal BMI.  Each day, Anthony obsessed over what his scales decried relative to his weight while he inspected his reflected physique for flaws in tone and shape.  All of this personal posturing grew out of his ritualistic exercise routine which for him consisted of P90X-type sessions, day in & day out.   

In contrast to this, Anthony's dad (a retired schoolteacher), who was back home in Iowa, was by far not "the fittest man in the room", having been stricken by an illness (many years prior) which left him in tremendous physical pain and subsequently very overweight.  The only remedy to this acute pain were pharmaceuticals, that whilst ushering in some relief to his dad, also brought about a number of difficult to manage side effects - one of which was weight gain.  As such, Anthony's dad was more or less unable to enjoy life as he once did during his earlier years.

It was apparent to me as Anthony's friend that son loved his dad.  I was privy to pieces of his story, part of which detailed how his parents had sacrificed tremendously to rear he and his siblings there in small town, Iowa on two meager schoolteacher's incomes.  I can remember Anthony telling me that never during his growing up years did his family eat at a restaurant - under any circumstances - due to their restricted budget, yet in his eyes, his childhood was idyllic.

When I'd talk to Anthony about Christianity, the conversation would often turn to his father's poor health and the suffering therein.  Anthony's dad was by no means devout, but his Catholicism was intact (at Xmas and Easter).  Anthony couldn't reconcile what was impossible for him to rationalize or seemingly find a resolution for relative to someone (his dad) he loved immensely suffering so tremendously.

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My sexual preference for the same sex served as a sizable alarm for me as a young man.  This preference was due (at least partially) to the environment I'd grown up in.  An environment which had made me quite susceptible to the prospect of living out a depraved, abnormal orientation (out of line with God's will).  

Now, there's a lot of wordplay there.  Which seems to always be the case these days when it comes to the topic of homosexual behavior (as evidenced by the embedded video.  They remind me so much of Click & Clack).

Let me be clear.

I was intensely attracted to the same sex as a teenage boy, and this scared me.  But what scared me far more was how intrinsically this proved my own spiritual brokenness and personal misdirection relative to these attractions.  And it wasn't like I needed 5 or 6 gay couples living out their affluent, normalized lives near me to demonstrate what-might-be for Rob.  It wasn't that at all.

I'd read Scripture.  I knew what it said in Genesis regarding creation, and within Paul's letters regarding homosexuality.  Plus, I was well versed in the tale of Sodom & Gomorrah, with the primary theme being homosexual lust.

I also understood how outlandish the notion of homosexual relationships really was, but primarily, how destructively influential that kind of behavior would be were I to choose to participate in it.  

Nonetheless, I absolutely, positively wanted to participate in it, therefore I felt cursed.  Or maybe a better word is stricken.  And this grew out of me not being able to relate to guys like the above "Click & Clack".

And as such, I found that my faith grew as the gospel became more and more profoundly urgent to me, with each and every homosexual fantasy played out within my mind's eye.

Fast way forward a number of decades, and I would argue today that I'm a far more useful soldier for Christ due to my sexual preference and how it's bound me exclusively to God's mercifully redemptive love.

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The verse for 2020 that my wife clung to was one shared with her via a dear client (& long-time friend).  It is Exodus 14:14.  Here's the verse:  "The Lord will fight for you, and you only have to be silent."

When I look at all the people I've known throughout my life who've represented Christianity for me, there are only two that sit at the zenith in terms of faith.  Okay, maybe three.  Those are, my late grandfather, Bud Hampton, my childhood pastor at First Baptist Church, Dr. Frank Pollard, and Angie, my sweet wife.  

Yet, 7 or 8 months out from her May 29 stroke, some of her days are still quite dark as she grieves the loss of some of her physicality.

Despite those dark days, her faith is not only intact but ever maturing forward.  Just today, she asked about stepping back into church (worship and women's Bible study) at Lakeside Pres if her soon-to-be-executed COVID-19 antibody test comes back positive.  

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If you study Scripture, you'll see / understand clearly the role of suffering within the Christian's / God's people's life.  And that is to grow faith whilst spotlighting God and his glory in spite of what initially may look / seem like his abandonment (to the faithless).  

Within this fallen pre-death state, we as Christians need to expect to suffer, but remember the hope we also have within the next life where they'll be no suffering whatsoever.  It represents eternity, and that's no doubt a very long, very exuberant time.  A time where we'll no longer be subject to the ramifications of sin and ultimately death, freed from the trials of this world, ever embracing our reward.

Lagniappe

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).

Recommended Viewing

Acknowledge Your Brokenness. Pivot From There To Christ.

Here in the Deep South, we tend to point out other's faults as a mainstay of our culture, keeping a historical record along the way.

We do this in lieu of stating the obvious (log within our own eye) and allowing our focus to be therein.

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Why do we do this?

Living within this part of America has its traditions.  One of which is religion.  Lots and lots of religion.  Another of those traditions is being hyper discriminate.  This seems to have been born out of our region being the inevitable underdog.  Having to endure being in this position makes for a cagey outlook, especially as our world seemingly gets smaller.  

Also, there simply aren't as many individuals here, and as such, (whites and blacks) there's truly two distinct communities, separated by race (& much economic / educational disparities) as the clear dividing rod.

Less people equates to more opportunities to qualify individuals in great detail.  Believe me, I know this firsthand.  Think small town versus big city.

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There is a religious community of thought which celebrates the notion of putting one's focus on personal achievement, purpose and skill, and pandering to that success via the pleasurable trappings of material wealth.  All as a result of being blessed, blessed, blessed by God.

It's an approach that makes you look good and your notion of God too.  And this is supposed to encourage life change and faith in the unseen.  You might call it the "do-gooder's gospel".

Plus, it makes for a black & white understanding of who's holy and who isn't - if you know what I mean - based on the size of their bank account.

And then there are those who've looked deeper into the Scriptures, having taken note of a much more apparent theme.  That being restoration.

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Scripture is banked heavily on what's referred to as a covenant.  There's an old (w/ Abraham) and new one (Jesus, our messiah), and both are promises from God to his people.  And when it refers to his people in Scripture, it's referring to individuals fully known by God - every detail known - since the beginning of time itself.  In other words, before the creation of the world that he spoke into being - you know, "In the beginning...".  

The restoration theme is only there in order to put the emphasis or glory on God.  And this is the ultimate truth of what we as his people are to focus on.  His glory.

So how do we do this?

By having a very specific understanding of how we ourselves were once in need prior to no longer being needy.  Once in need of redemption prior to be redeemed.  Once in need of salvation prior to be saved.  

From.  To.  Without forgetting the From.  All the while basking in the beauty therein of our triune God.

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The ultimate question is this (for those of you interested in this restoration).  Do you enjoy sin?  [If yes, there's the necessary acknowledgement.]  Secondary to that question is this.  Are you interested in finding a way out?  [If yes, there's the quagmire.]  And finally, to top it off.  Do you have the necessary faith in Jesus to take that first step?  [Look to Christ for the faith that you'll need.  He promises to provide it to his children.]

     

What Does Samson Society Mean To You In 2021?

For some men, the notion of stepping foot back into the Samson Society meeting they've frequented for years now leaves much to be desired, and this is in no thanks to certain Samson colleagues and what they choose to bring to the table during most every meeting they attend.

Overall, some of this is due to "old-timers" getting nary too comfortable for others to stomach (them), and doing so not only within the meetings / after-meetings but via group chat sessions as well.

The Metro Jackson Samson Society groups do have our fair share of "old-timers".  These are men who've been involved for many, many years now, most if not all of which, originated from the First Baptist Church Jackson Samson Society group.

So, what do I mean by "too comfortable"?

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When you're attending Samson Society meetings in order to (in all honesty) simply hear yourself talk, you've become too comfortable.  There's a level of "poise" (if you will) there that's not helpful to anyone (including yourself).  

In the past, we had a very regular Samson man attend the Lakeside Pres group every Saturday morning.  This man believed his car was extraordinary, and one of the reasons he came each Saturday morning was to remind us of that.  He also wanted to facilitate the group, having made that known to me (indirectly) as well.  

He even abruptly left one of our meetings when he felt he'd been "dissed" (disrespected) by me (the actual facilitator) when I chose to turn off a noisy window A/C unit.

Eventually, this dude stopped coming.  Thanks be to God.  His antics were really starting to get old.  

Hopefully, the time he's now spent elsewhere has been better received. 

As a facilitator, it's hard to know exactly what your roles are whilst dealing with ornery, offensive, "I'm just here to hear myself talk" old-timers.  For you see, we're really only there to open the door, turn on the lights, and read the Samson Society charter.  Everything else simply happens in spite of our meager role.

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As of late, I know there are men out there who need to embrace a change of scenery, and not only for themselves but for everyone else.  And many of these men have been involved in the Metro Jackson SS for almost as long as I have.  

What's wonderful about our Metro Jackson Samson Society community is that there five groups to choose from (not to mention the SS virtual groups)!  Therefore, please remember that sometimes change is for the better (for everyone involved).