The second library design I had the good fortune of working on as an architect (around 2001) received an additional building plaque upon the building's completion. This bronze plaque was a tad bit smaller scale than the standard plaque (which sat adjacent), and it was cast in honor of the director of the library system herself.
The library system that we worked for relative to designing the building had lost their director to cancer just a few months prior to the building being completed. I'd only worked with her for a few months during the planning phase prior to her getting very sick and having to forego her work as director. This woman was young. If I had to guess, I'd say around my age today (47) or younger, and like every librarian I've ever had the privilege to work with, she was articulate and intelligent with so much steadfastness.
Yesterday, I went to a park in Jackson to run, and due to the superb Spring weather, there were Jacksonians everywhere walking, running, and talking on their pocket computers (all at the same time). Obviously since I was in Jackson, most of these people were black which left me in the minority as a white man, and this got me thinking about blacks in relation to COVID-19.
The aforementioned library system director, Rose, was black. In fact, she was the first professional black woman I'd had the privilege to work with here in Mississippi (which was very cool). After she died, I came across some research that detailed how blacks are more prone to succumb to illness than other races. Illnesses like cancer, heart disease, diabetes type 2...the incurable, life-threatening ones. And this was due to the fact that their bodies don't respond as well to typical forms of medical treatment.
I remember how sad this made me for Rose as well as the entire black community. Especially considering that so many blacks live here in Mississippi. Having grown up here, it was eye-opening to learn this about their race. Because whites and blacks stay so segregated from each other here in Mississippi, it's hard to be sympathetic at all due to the distance that's always there between our two races.
And of course, this got me thinking about the current pandemic, and how perhaps the black community may be more at risk than other races to suffer more / succumb to the virus. Or vice versa. Scary, macabre stuff, I know, but it's difficult not to think about the macabre these days.
-------------------------
I recall, many years ago, the first commercial air flight I took where the majority of passengers had a tablet device with them. A new friend, sitting adjacent, had one, and he was excited about "HBO GO" or somesuch app that had recently come available. He talked (believe it or not) briefly about recently finalized / concluded HBO programming which he'd obviously enjoyed immensely. Based on what I understood, the HBO GO app would now allow him to seamlessly take the content with him on the go.
When I was a teen, HBO was Home Box Office. It was film content (all PG-rated before 6 PM during weekdays) with some Fraggle Rock thrown in for good measure. HBO was "premium TV programming", and as such cost as much or more than all your other cable programming combined. Hence, few families (here in MS at least) purchased it back in the '80s.
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Terminator was the first R-rated film I believe I screened (in its almost entirety), thanks to HBO (at my best friend's house - one weekend). I vividly remember sitting adjacent to my friend's older sister (she was 16), and having her detail the following commentary to my 14 year-old self as she provided visual aids with her hands.
"I bet his dick is this long."
Even today, whilst recounting that moment, I feel dirty inside. Knowing full well that I shouldn't have been watching due to the corrupting impression that was occurring in real time.
But what was I to do? How could I possibly look away / leave the room?
I was simply too vulnerable to resist.
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Hollywood is owned by the public. The companies that make films, small screen programming are publicly owned. Therefore, they answer firstly to their shareholders. And their shareholders are concerned with nothing more than market value and dividends. Therefore, Hollywood entertainment studios push the boundaries constantly in order to grab as much of the public's attention as they can. And more often than not, that content is hyper-sexualized due to the fact that so many of us are vulnerable to it.
They do not concern themselves with whom is watching. They do not see that as their business.
There's big money to be made in Hollywood. At the expense of so many.
But, as we know, the accumulation of material wealth is first and foremost within the minds of men. People will do just about anything to get rich.
-------------------------
Where are you vulnerable? Do you know? What steps have you taken to protect yourself? What did that first foray into filth look like for you? What were the specific circumstances where your young eyes were taken advantage of? I believe it's important that you document that to yourself in order to attempt to make peace with it if you believe you'd benefit from it. And finally, are you willing to add to Hollywood's coffers when they refuse to take anyone or anything but their balance sheets into consideration?
A new Samson Society friend told me recently that he'd given his television to a brother in Christ for safekeeping. I thought that was so brave of him to admit to. Especially considering the fact that his employer is partially an entertainment company. Sure, it sounds extreme, but I would argue, during this day and age, extreme measures are needed if you're serious about protecting yourself from your own personal weaknesses.
Put yourself first in this regard. Always. Don't pretend that we're all hardwired the same. That's what our culture (& Satan) attempts to use to deceive us all. Either that or he whispers in our ear that we deserve to be entertained with salacious material. And we all know that's nothing but a crock of shit.
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
Monday, March 16, 2020
Envelope Problem(s) / Forensic work needed
We've lived in our abode for almost 20 years. It's recently received a new roof, new HVAC system, and soon some new attic insulation (if the contractor will ever show up to do the work). Ever since we moved in, we've had (rain)water leaks under the wood floor (within our front room) at the front elevation of the house. These leaks, over the years, have moved around, but all in all, it's the same nuisance stains that we've simply grown accustomed to seeing (despite the numerous "repairs" / promises of repair that have been executed) in more or less the exact same place.
The results of these leaks are nasty, discolored (almost black) stains / discoloration within the wood that spread from the base of the exterior wall (right under the shoe mold) to about 18" towards the center of the room. It's not at all unlike looking at a foreboding negative bar chart descending into our living space.
As you might imagine, it looks really bad, and it's embarrassing to attempt to explain when new friends come over (so of course, we cover it up as best we can).
If we ever sell the house, something's obviously going to have to be did about this, and I'm afraid to think what it might cost / how much trouble it will be to accomplish.
-------------------------
A building's envelope consists of all of its exterior systems (roof / walls) working in tandem to protect the interior from the elements. Obviously, based on what I've described above, we have had some ongoing envelope problems at our home. And this proves that our home's envelope isn't doing the work it's supposed to be / was designed to do.
As Christian men, I believe we're also afforded an envelope that shelters our insides, and subsequently keeps us from being infringed upon emotionally. No matter the circumstance / degree of severity. And just to be clear, it's primarily anger that I'm wanting to laser in on going forward.
So often, said envelope isn't doing its job for guys, therefore our insides take on external elements that should have been easily shed / redirected from the get go. From there, he are forced to respond INTERNALLY now that the infiltration is undeniable.
BREACH!
Even though, had the envelope been doing its job, this response would have been unnecessary to begin with. In other words, it's no doubt impossible to ignore an uninvited guest.
In many ways, it's like one's initial exposure to hardcore porn - no matter the age or circumstance. I would argue in that instance, it's the breach itself and what it now represents that's most disturbing / makes the most impact versus the salicious material (& what it means to us). That instance is a pivot point. A lightening bolt moment that opens our eyes to who we are / have now become in regards to the world around us. And this is in ways we never imagined prior.
Call it awakening the dragon, if you will. However you wish to view it, it's a paradigm shift. And if you know anything about those, they're all about how we see and feel about ourselves in relation to our perception of the world as we know and understand it.
-------------------------
To summarize, I believe anger is more a response to our own envelope's weak points than anything else. And yes, I'm definitely discounting the situation itself.
Let me repeat that.
I believe anger is more a response to our own envelope's weak points than anything else. It's a very impulsive, complex response that can truly take us off guard, and over time, take root as a legitimate personality trait.
After a series of heavy rains, I remember so vividly how powerless I felt all those years ago when I first took note of our front room under floor water leak(s), knowing full well how difficult it would be to uncover exactly what was awry relative to our homes envelope. It was overwhelming to think about.
And I didn't honestly blame anyone at that point due to the fact that I knew full well how difficult constructing an impenetrable envelope truly is. Particularly here in Mississippi where on average we receive 60" of rain annually.
-------------------------
As men, we want to exude strength, perfection, maturity, resilience. Why? Because it's what our culture celebrates as attractive, successful - in and amongst men. Sexy even. Who's against being sexually attractive? No one. Certainly not this day and age. It is the gold standard for value. Is it not?
Anger doesn't fit categorically in with what I've just described as the gold standard. Even that in and of itself - the realization of one's now ugliness, can further fuel anger's grip on us. Plus, anger is a powerful emotion, motivating us - for the worse, always - to either eviscerate or marginalize (or something in between) - those around us. Not at all, on the opposite end of the spectrum, as love motivates us conversely.
Therefore, so much of our anger as men isn't justified, and this is due to the fact that it's more of a response to a truth (our own weakness) that is so difficult for us to face with courage. And subsequently ask for help with.
.
The results of these leaks are nasty, discolored (almost black) stains / discoloration within the wood that spread from the base of the exterior wall (right under the shoe mold) to about 18" towards the center of the room. It's not at all unlike looking at a foreboding negative bar chart descending into our living space.
As you might imagine, it looks really bad, and it's embarrassing to attempt to explain when new friends come over (so of course, we cover it up as best we can).
If we ever sell the house, something's obviously going to have to be did about this, and I'm afraid to think what it might cost / how much trouble it will be to accomplish.
-------------------------
A building's envelope consists of all of its exterior systems (roof / walls) working in tandem to protect the interior from the elements. Obviously, based on what I've described above, we have had some ongoing envelope problems at our home. And this proves that our home's envelope isn't doing the work it's supposed to be / was designed to do.
As Christian men, I believe we're also afforded an envelope that shelters our insides, and subsequently keeps us from being infringed upon emotionally. No matter the circumstance / degree of severity. And just to be clear, it's primarily anger that I'm wanting to laser in on going forward.
So often, said envelope isn't doing its job for guys, therefore our insides take on external elements that should have been easily shed / redirected from the get go. From there, he are forced to respond INTERNALLY now that the infiltration is undeniable.
BREACH!
Even though, had the envelope been doing its job, this response would have been unnecessary to begin with. In other words, it's no doubt impossible to ignore an uninvited guest.
In many ways, it's like one's initial exposure to hardcore porn - no matter the age or circumstance. I would argue in that instance, it's the breach itself and what it now represents that's most disturbing / makes the most impact versus the salicious material (& what it means to us). That instance is a pivot point. A lightening bolt moment that opens our eyes to who we are / have now become in regards to the world around us. And this is in ways we never imagined prior.
Call it awakening the dragon, if you will. However you wish to view it, it's a paradigm shift. And if you know anything about those, they're all about how we see and feel about ourselves in relation to our perception of the world as we know and understand it.
-------------------------
To summarize, I believe anger is more a response to our own envelope's weak points than anything else. And yes, I'm definitely discounting the situation itself.
Let me repeat that.
I believe anger is more a response to our own envelope's weak points than anything else. It's a very impulsive, complex response that can truly take us off guard, and over time, take root as a legitimate personality trait.
After a series of heavy rains, I remember so vividly how powerless I felt all those years ago when I first took note of our front room under floor water leak(s), knowing full well how difficult it would be to uncover exactly what was awry relative to our homes envelope. It was overwhelming to think about.
And I didn't honestly blame anyone at that point due to the fact that I knew full well how difficult constructing an impenetrable envelope truly is. Particularly here in Mississippi where on average we receive 60" of rain annually.
-------------------------
As men, we want to exude strength, perfection, maturity, resilience. Why? Because it's what our culture celebrates as attractive, successful - in and amongst men. Sexy even. Who's against being sexually attractive? No one. Certainly not this day and age. It is the gold standard for value. Is it not?
Anger doesn't fit categorically in with what I've just described as the gold standard. Even that in and of itself - the realization of one's now ugliness, can further fuel anger's grip on us. Plus, anger is a powerful emotion, motivating us - for the worse, always - to either eviscerate or marginalize (or something in between) - those around us. Not at all, on the opposite end of the spectrum, as love motivates us conversely.
Therefore, so much of our anger as men isn't justified, and this is due to the fact that it's more of a response to a truth (our own weakness) that is so difficult for us to face with courage. And subsequently ask for help with.
 |
| Many men are in bondage to anger, thanks to it serving at times as lust does. As a fuel to feel intensely. |
 |
| The hard truth of being (un)recognized as an imperfect dad can be just as confounding / shaming, if not moreso, than the imperfection itself. |
Sunday, March 15, 2020
88.6788!
Years ago, Mr. Don Waller would invite us Samson Society men out to rural Hinds County on some family owned property right around New Year's Eve. He'd have a bonfire built, and we'd eat fantastic home cooked jambalaya or red beans & rice. Due to the holiday, there'd rarely be more than 6 or 8 of us that would show up, and in looking back, that smaller scale crowd did make for a more intimate experience.
I can remember on each of these occasions, Don, with sage-like fervor, would ask us to state some upcoming year goals / milestones that we wanted to meet as individual men, and not unlike most of these types of conceptual exercises which I'd taken part in before, I'd quickly forget about them as the new year rolled around.
Interestingly enough though, this weekend I realized, quite surprisingly, that I'd met one of these goals - if not exceeded it - by a long shot!
It was one of those very personal goals that I'd simply forgotten to care about whilst going about my life, and then out of the blue, I excitedly realized the truth.
Now, I'm not a goal setter. Never have been. And that's simply due to my wiring.
But this really made my day. Thanks Don!
I can remember on each of these occasions, Don, with sage-like fervor, would ask us to state some upcoming year goals / milestones that we wanted to meet as individual men, and not unlike most of these types of conceptual exercises which I'd taken part in before, I'd quickly forget about them as the new year rolled around.
Interestingly enough though, this weekend I realized, quite surprisingly, that I'd met one of these goals - if not exceeded it - by a long shot!
It was one of those very personal goals that I'd simply forgotten to care about whilst going about my life, and then out of the blue, I excitedly realized the truth.
Now, I'm not a goal setter. Never have been. And that's simply due to my wiring.
But this really made my day. Thanks Don!
Saturday, March 14, 2020
When Those You Love Lose Their Faith In You and Your Abilities
My first job out of college wasn't more than 6 months old when I began to sense the sole proprietor losing faith in me. And it was centered around my personality.
I am not a team player. Never have been. As an only child with two 'rents who weren't all that much older than I, I spent most of my time alone as a child, 'fending for myself - at least emotionally. Too, I've never had a mentor (much to my chagrin). All this plus my having to privately manage my same sex attraction throughout my life, made me who I am. That being, independent to a fault.
And this did not bode well with my first architect boss. Therefore, when we lost our largest client, he was not at all remorseful to let me go. Of course, for me, it was devastating. Angie and I were only a few weeks into our newlyweddingness. But God was good, and within 30 days I had a new job with better pay / benefits and more responsibility. That was almost 25 years ago.
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One of my oldest friends agreed to lunch with me yesterday. At the end of last year, he walked away ("to take advantage of a better opportunity elsewhere") from a partnership he'd been privileged to be part of. One where as a business owner, he found himself at the base of a totem pole, always looking upwards to two seasoned businessmen who were 20+ years his senior. Now, the "to take advantage of a better opportunity elsewhere" portion of the story is what happened publicly. My old friend had been part of this firm, either as an employee or shareholder, for close to 16 years. And within my mind, he was a great candidate to buy these men out (upon their retirement), thereby allowing the business to continue forward under his headship, easily carrying on the legacy that his senior partners had established before him.
But that's not what went down since that wasn't what they today had in mind regarding him.
Similarly this week, I had lunch with a client whose partner simply walked out of the firm, taking the majority of the employees with him, leaving behind no real means to carry on with the workload.
In each case, faith in men, their values, and their abilities was lost. And from there, the relationships (& subsequent partnerships) collapsed in on themselves.
Now, before we talk about the first few sentences of this post, let me zoom in on the particulars. Because, that's really where the meat is relative to this critical issue. And when I say meat, I'm referring to the heart of where Samson Society (or something similar to it) might help.
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When my institutional employer lost their faith in me back in '13 (I've cited & expounded on this a good bit within previous posts), I seriously doubt I would have lost my footing emotionally / spiritually - perhaps on any level at all - had the conveyance of said change been more respectfully executed between themselves and me. And this is the rub within these difficult situations, either as exampled above or certainly within something as interpersonal as a marriage or friendship. How they're precisely handled matters tremendously relative to communicating the change of heart that's about to upend the relationship.
Regarding vocational relationships, men and women in positions of authority can be cruel, but especially when they feel entitled / are "appointed" to be. So much so that they may feel justified in - however they feel so moved - to deliver their disappointment, frustration, outrage, and on and on during that critical adjudication. Never once considering or attempting to empathize with the one on the opposite side of the table.
I speak from experience when I say that 'till you've had your heart submerged into a vat of pejorative acid (by individuals you love / respect / trust), you cannot imagine the emotional fallout that may come from such callousness / unprofessionalism / thoughtlessness. Especially if these individuals are older than you are. It really all comes down to circumstances.
But on the flip side of that mess, there's hope still. Healing for me did come. In droves. But, it took years for that to be seen through to its rightful conclusion. And for me, in particular, because of my independent nature, the impact had to be close to nuclear in order for me to be forced to begin at ground zero. Which leads me to...
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In closing, what does it mean to lose faith in oneself?
Regarding the aforementioned experience back in '13, my God took it upon himself to allow me to be crushed completely. Thrown off a cliff emotionally with no safety net. From there, the pain was so intense that I was unable to hold onto any hope at all. Never had I experienced such massive emotional trauma. I suppose you could say the timing was perfect for Satan to execute a full press in an attempt to do me in completely. And no doubt, God allowed that.
The heart of these accusations (from the devil) had to do with the lie that I truly was worthless. As I would weep whilst curled up in the fetal position on our closet floor on oh so many nights, I felt these accusations to my very core.
From there, it was simply a matter of waiting on the Lord to heal me. Or to put it another way, be rebuilt with my entire focus being on what he would do within me going forward versus me having to cope with my life with only a conceptual idea of God's healing / sovereign power running in the background.
And my involvement during this critical time with Samson Society was the perfect petri dish / safe haven for this to healing to take place within.
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Tonight, I feel for my old friend as well as my client. May God have mercy on them as he did me. What an amazing relinquishment of self identity did I experience. All of which I can only hope for them too.
Thursday, March 12, 2020
Why Do We Sometimes Find Ourselves Mourning / Grieving The Loss Of A Part Of Ourselves That We Should Be Happy To Be Rid Of? / [Who Or What Exactly Is Influencing You?]
Because we're not actually rid of it (to answer my first question). Especially if the ideals enumerated within that history are celebrated / go viral within our (now digital) culture.
Our lives aren't like a hard drive within a PC that's written over and over. Who we were and who we are and who we're becoming is a linear narrative. What's weird is that as an Christian, you'd think this grieving would actually never occur. Instead, shouldn't we be celebrating? Nevertheless, the reality is we have memories of who we were in the past coupled with how we once reacted / rationalized / understood the world around us.
But too (and to attempt to continue succinctly answering my first question), we're not necessarily individuals. Instead, we're part of humanity. Whatever that means (temperamental point of view / attitude towards fellow man) for each man at whatever point in time he happens to exist within. Nothing can completely separate us from life, moving forward, on Earth - side by side amongst our neighbors, co-workers, family, and so forth digitally or otherwise.
-------------------------
The culture continues to degrade, decouple, diminish God's relevancy. It's happening all around us. And we cannot stop that from happening. I mean, we can pray for revival, but otherwise it's out of our control within this Fallen world. Yet, as believers, we are still no doubt part of that collective despite the fact that this remains no longer our true home.
Hence, we cannot (or at least we should not) extract ourselves from culture. Nothing in God's word lends credence to this approach. Otherwise, how would we witness? No story can be told sans an audience.
-------------------------
When I was in college, I spent one summer living with my parents in a rental house here in Jackson. My best friend from high school was also home that same summer, and as a nice gesture, I decided to detail his car for him.
What I learned from this experience was how impossible it was to overlook the neglect he'd wrought onto his poor car, having now attempted to restore it to its once former showroom glory. Therefore, I never offered to do this again. Now, it didn't keep me from riding with him in the car, but I did not ever want to be tasked with being able to see the damage his car had endured and continued to endure day after day.
-------------------------
We see so much about so many people these days thanks to the Internet. And, I'm not just referring to entertainment, but arguably the very reason the www exists is to provide us with access to an unlimited amount of data on lives lived and living. Too, you can step farther back and see the same relative to groupings of people, how they behave, what their moral standings are / are not. Many, many people use this to their monetary advantage online within this influencer age.
For an amateur sociologist like me, it's a fascinating tool / curse, this thing called the Internet. But, aren't we all becoming amateur sociologist as we search, scroll, post and click?
It's like you can detail every car or a certain portion of every car you see. Every. Single. Freaking. Car. Which is insane. And arguably, completely out of line in how we were meant to live out our lives.
Now, whether or not that online process results in a realistic (of course it does not) pursuit, nevertheless, the process is there for any and everyone who can run a browser to take part in. We are literally now slaves to the data.
-------------------------
Everyone knows that detailing automobiles isn't normal human behavior because it's really hard work that takes an immense amount of scrutiny and patience to accomplish well. Washing a car on the other hand, is normal behavior. Especially if you have some help from your local automated car wash. It's an 8 to 10 minute job compared to a 3 or 4 hour job.
To circle back to my friend's car and that summer detailing job I did for him, the impact that reality made on me (his neglect) also reflected back on me from the standpoint that this was my best friend. Therefore, his neglect was categorized as "very personally recognizable", and therefore undeniable - in so many ways. Subsequently, I felt ashamed and disappointed. And not just at him, but at myself for not having been able to necessarily do more...either then or perhaps earlier on. [Keep in mind that at this time of my life, I was quite the car aficionado.]
Now on the flip side of that internal adjudication, staying within that same "very personally recognizable" realm, I also could have felt similarly ashamed and disappointed in myself, but for a whole different set of reasons. For instance, I may have then considered myself to have been none the smarter for actually "wasting my time" on keeping my own car in tiptop shape.
Do you see the undeniable influence there relative to both time / effort spent and who I'd dubbed "very personally recognizable"?
This influence points us back to what I wrote earlier on. Here it is again:
But too (and to attempt to continue succinctly answering my first question), we're not necessarily individuals. Instead, we're part of humanity. Whatever that means (temperamental point of view / attitude towards fellow man) for each man at whatever point in time he happens to exist within. Nothing can completely separate us from life, moving forward, on Earth - side by side amongst our neighbors, co-workers, family, and so forth digitally or otherwise.
-------------------------
The Internet, for me at least, can serve as a massive junkyard, but it's one where categorically the cars are organized expertly (thanks to search engines) alongside seemingly unlimited toolsets. Toolsets which make for easy, almost instantaneous salvaging, study, and research. I love that.
The problem is exacerbated though for guys like me. Guys who simply can't get enough of cars.
But that's a sorry excuse. I've bought into the lie (in more ways than one) that there's no way to actually resurrect the dead or at least a portion of yourself that once was (for worse) living, breathing tissue. Therefore, I've thought for too long that playing it safe online doesn't really apply to me. How arrogant I've become!
Our lives aren't like a hard drive within a PC that's written over and over. Who we were and who we are and who we're becoming is a linear narrative. What's weird is that as an Christian, you'd think this grieving would actually never occur. Instead, shouldn't we be celebrating? Nevertheless, the reality is we have memories of who we were in the past coupled with how we once reacted / rationalized / understood the world around us.
But too (and to attempt to continue succinctly answering my first question), we're not necessarily individuals. Instead, we're part of humanity. Whatever that means (temperamental point of view / attitude towards fellow man) for each man at whatever point in time he happens to exist within. Nothing can completely separate us from life, moving forward, on Earth - side by side amongst our neighbors, co-workers, family, and so forth digitally or otherwise.
-------------------------
The culture continues to degrade, decouple, diminish God's relevancy. It's happening all around us. And we cannot stop that from happening. I mean, we can pray for revival, but otherwise it's out of our control within this Fallen world. Yet, as believers, we are still no doubt part of that collective despite the fact that this remains no longer our true home.
Hence, we cannot (or at least we should not) extract ourselves from culture. Nothing in God's word lends credence to this approach. Otherwise, how would we witness? No story can be told sans an audience.
-------------------------
When I was in college, I spent one summer living with my parents in a rental house here in Jackson. My best friend from high school was also home that same summer, and as a nice gesture, I decided to detail his car for him.
What I learned from this experience was how impossible it was to overlook the neglect he'd wrought onto his poor car, having now attempted to restore it to its once former showroom glory. Therefore, I never offered to do this again. Now, it didn't keep me from riding with him in the car, but I did not ever want to be tasked with being able to see the damage his car had endured and continued to endure day after day.
-------------------------
We see so much about so many people these days thanks to the Internet. And, I'm not just referring to entertainment, but arguably the very reason the www exists is to provide us with access to an unlimited amount of data on lives lived and living. Too, you can step farther back and see the same relative to groupings of people, how they behave, what their moral standings are / are not. Many, many people use this to their monetary advantage online within this influencer age.
For an amateur sociologist like me, it's a fascinating tool / curse, this thing called the Internet. But, aren't we all becoming amateur sociologist as we search, scroll, post and click?
It's like you can detail every car or a certain portion of every car you see. Every. Single. Freaking. Car. Which is insane. And arguably, completely out of line in how we were meant to live out our lives.
Now, whether or not that online process results in a realistic (of course it does not) pursuit, nevertheless, the process is there for any and everyone who can run a browser to take part in. We are literally now slaves to the data.
-------------------------
Everyone knows that detailing automobiles isn't normal human behavior because it's really hard work that takes an immense amount of scrutiny and patience to accomplish well. Washing a car on the other hand, is normal behavior. Especially if you have some help from your local automated car wash. It's an 8 to 10 minute job compared to a 3 or 4 hour job.
To circle back to my friend's car and that summer detailing job I did for him, the impact that reality made on me (his neglect) also reflected back on me from the standpoint that this was my best friend. Therefore, his neglect was categorized as "very personally recognizable", and therefore undeniable - in so many ways. Subsequently, I felt ashamed and disappointed. And not just at him, but at myself for not having been able to necessarily do more...either then or perhaps earlier on. [Keep in mind that at this time of my life, I was quite the car aficionado.]
Now on the flip side of that internal adjudication, staying within that same "very personally recognizable" realm, I also could have felt similarly ashamed and disappointed in myself, but for a whole different set of reasons. For instance, I may have then considered myself to have been none the smarter for actually "wasting my time" on keeping my own car in tiptop shape.
Do you see the undeniable influence there relative to both time / effort spent and who I'd dubbed "very personally recognizable"?
This influence points us back to what I wrote earlier on. Here it is again:
But too (and to attempt to continue succinctly answering my first question), we're not necessarily individuals. Instead, we're part of humanity. Whatever that means (temperamental point of view / attitude towards fellow man) for each man at whatever point in time he happens to exist within. Nothing can completely separate us from life, moving forward, on Earth - side by side amongst our neighbors, co-workers, family, and so forth digitally or otherwise.
-------------------------
The Internet, for me at least, can serve as a massive junkyard, but it's one where categorically the cars are organized expertly (thanks to search engines) alongside seemingly unlimited toolsets. Toolsets which make for easy, almost instantaneous salvaging, study, and research. I love that.
The problem is exacerbated though for guys like me. Guys who simply can't get enough of cars.
But that's a sorry excuse. I've bought into the lie (in more ways than one) that there's no way to actually resurrect the dead or at least a portion of yourself that once was (for worse) living, breathing tissue. Therefore, I've thought for too long that playing it safe online doesn't really apply to me. How arrogant I've become!
Wednesday, March 11, 2020
The Insecurity Antidote / Soul Rending
Matt's video below is an abbreviated version of a man's testimony (his own) that echoes my own, in many ways. Take the time to listen.
I love what he says here about him recognizing that his faith could no longer be built on his shallow understanding of God, and subsequently, that it took suffering (no doubt suffering which even involved the church) for God to realign his understanding / secure himself faithfully to heaven - so to speak.
We look at Bible character after Bible character, and their stories are no different. When God desires to work within the life of a man, he'll do the necessary work within to ready him for that said work. And that's the antidote to insecurity. Experiencing God's restoration / sanctification via his grace cannot be written off. It is so personal. So intimate. So precise.
From then on, it's like your life is anchored to a concrete slab that's a mile deep.
I love what he says here about him recognizing that his faith could no longer be built on his shallow understanding of God, and subsequently, that it took suffering (no doubt suffering which even involved the church) for God to realign his understanding / secure himself faithfully to heaven - so to speak.
We look at Bible character after Bible character, and their stories are no different. When God desires to work within the life of a man, he'll do the necessary work within to ready him for that said work. And that's the antidote to insecurity. Experiencing God's restoration / sanctification via his grace cannot be written off. It is so personal. So intimate. So precise.
From then on, it's like your life is anchored to a concrete slab that's a mile deep.
Saturday, March 7, 2020
"You Should See Some Of Those Kids [Samson Guys]." / "This Is Not What I Need."
Many years ago, a close friend at our church (Lakeside Pres) relayed he and his wife's rationale for choosing to put their two children in private academies versus public school here in Metro Jackson. Due to his vocational proximity to our church's youth group (at the time & years prior), he'd adjudicated / averaged the caliber of public school student of his own accord. From there, his kidlets were ushered off to both First Presbyterian Day School and then onto Jackson Preparatory School, never looking back.
Angie and I went to private academies as elementary / middle / high school students here in both the Jackson and Hattiesburg Metro, but our three girls do not. Now, keep in mind that we did homeschool for kindergarten and 4th grade only (our oldest two daughters).
-------------------------
Mississippi is brimming with sexual sinners. For all the potheads in California, we have the sex addicts / "lovemongers" here in Mississippi. Mostly, this illicit behavior is fornication amongst the black population, but within the rural areas of our state, it's just as prevalent amongst whites. Sex is the language of love, so to speak, in Mississippi. Our motto here is, if you happen to be bored, go find someone to fuck. And what fuels this is the vacuum of honest, thorough sexual education - across the board (from parents - emotional point of view, teachers - pragmatic point of view, church leaders - spiritual / Biblical point of view) - available to children / young adults here in the Magnolia state.
Fornication fosters pregnancy but especially amongst young adults due to how risk averse they are. Pregnancy, amongst whites, fosters marriage (which are usually short lived). And from there, the offspring are thrown into the emotional gutter as they watch their families - completely out of their control - fall apart due to divorce. Children having to cope with not only the stressors of childhood but also the trauma of the emotional gutter many times end up with tremendous scars. Those children, if they stay here in Mississippi, will eventually as adults, (thankfully) find themselves in an environment that's much easier than most (economically) to sustain oneself within. But unfortunately, adults who were reared as children within broken homes are at a higher risk of also ending up introducing their children to the same toxicity. Therefore, many times, it creates a viscous cycle of emotional gutter living - for Mississippians.
And just a quick side note here. If you're dumb enough to not recognize that being reared within a broken home isn't equal to being thrown into an emotional gutter, just ask the children to honestly tell you of their experience and how they've had to cope in order to survive it.
Finally, Mississippi is the cheapest place to live within the US. Everything here (relatively speaking) is cheap. Therefore, it takes very little money to survive. Plus, there are so many impoverished Mississippians (most of which are collecting Social Security Disability) that if you have a decent amount of intelligence as well as a GED, you can actually be (with some providential assistance) quite successful (again, relatively speaking).
-------------------------
Angie and I have three daughters, all from our sole 23 years of marriage (by God's grace). Our oldest is a junior, middle a freshman, and youngest, a 4th grader. All of these attend public schools, as I said earlier on.
Our daughters dialogue much about their relational travails with their Mississippi classmates at their respective schools. Just this past week, our freshman relayed an interesting tale of how some of her missing clothes (out of her backpack during PE class) waltzed into school a few weeks later. She was aghast to see one of her favorite T-shirts on a fellow 9th grader, and similarly, her gym shorts being modeled by another freshman.
The 4th grader too has tales to share. Kids who bully by calling names or using profanity.
And too, there's the drug use, or at least what many of their fellow students objectify as such relative to their chosen identity within that regard. Is it legit? Who knows. Acknowledging the fact that (most) teenagers do love to run their mouths.
-------------------------
One evening this past week, having tallied up most of these tales over the past 30 days, I sat the Turner girls down and explained the realities they're being asked to face by being students amongst all the other Mississippi students within Mississippi public schools.
Thankfully, they took both my commentary in stride as well as (once again), their situation(s). In fact, they wouldn't have it any other way (as if they knew otherwise).
Now, how does this relate to Samson Society?
-------------------------
The biggest deterrent to buying into a Samson Society community is stigma, and in many ways, it's an adult version of the exact same stigma that motivates many a Mississippi parent to eschew public schooling (in Mississippi) for their children.
Often men walk into a meeting, and they adorn their haughty eyes. Eyes of criticality. Pride. Arrogance. And, it's all downhill from there.
Satan's greatest victory is deceiving a newbie into believing that Samson Society MUST BE ADJUDICATED AS A PLACE WHERE HE HIMSELF CAN BENEFIT EXCLUSIVELY.
And when said newbie determines / decides otherwise, he's out of there. And this is because he's deceived into believing that it's all about his needs / his healing being met. Exclusively.
-------------------------
Why do we send our children to public school?
For a number of reasons, one of which is to have them positively influence our beloved Mississippi - for the better. And no, the Turner girls aren't perfect, but they are fully engaged yet reticent enough to endure whilst giving back / loving well - both their public school teachers and fellow students.
Do our three daughters come from picture perfect homes? Of course not. In order to prove that, simply read about their father (me), the author of this SS blog. Though Angie and I have longevity on our side relative to our marriage, it's no less fragile / vulnerable to our propensity towards sin of every kind.
Public school is hard. Samson Society is hard. But both should be because real life is hard - particularly when we're faced with other Mississippian's shit head on. But, that's okay. God can and does work in and through those difficulties.
In closing, one sizable differentiator between participating within the Metro Jackson Samson Society and being a Mississippi public school student is there's no parental influence in the background to encourage / motivate you to stay committed. Therefore, you must rely on God instead, remembering all the while that it's not just about you and where you happen to be at for such a time as this.
Angie and I went to private academies as elementary / middle / high school students here in both the Jackson and Hattiesburg Metro, but our three girls do not. Now, keep in mind that we did homeschool for kindergarten and 4th grade only (our oldest two daughters).
-------------------------
Mississippi is brimming with sexual sinners. For all the potheads in California, we have the sex addicts / "lovemongers" here in Mississippi. Mostly, this illicit behavior is fornication amongst the black population, but within the rural areas of our state, it's just as prevalent amongst whites. Sex is the language of love, so to speak, in Mississippi. Our motto here is, if you happen to be bored, go find someone to fuck. And what fuels this is the vacuum of honest, thorough sexual education - across the board (from parents - emotional point of view, teachers - pragmatic point of view, church leaders - spiritual / Biblical point of view) - available to children / young adults here in the Magnolia state.
Fornication fosters pregnancy but especially amongst young adults due to how risk averse they are. Pregnancy, amongst whites, fosters marriage (which are usually short lived). And from there, the offspring are thrown into the emotional gutter as they watch their families - completely out of their control - fall apart due to divorce. Children having to cope with not only the stressors of childhood but also the trauma of the emotional gutter many times end up with tremendous scars. Those children, if they stay here in Mississippi, will eventually as adults, (thankfully) find themselves in an environment that's much easier than most (economically) to sustain oneself within. But unfortunately, adults who were reared as children within broken homes are at a higher risk of also ending up introducing their children to the same toxicity. Therefore, many times, it creates a viscous cycle of emotional gutter living - for Mississippians.
And just a quick side note here. If you're dumb enough to not recognize that being reared within a broken home isn't equal to being thrown into an emotional gutter, just ask the children to honestly tell you of their experience and how they've had to cope in order to survive it.
Finally, Mississippi is the cheapest place to live within the US. Everything here (relatively speaking) is cheap. Therefore, it takes very little money to survive. Plus, there are so many impoverished Mississippians (most of which are collecting Social Security Disability) that if you have a decent amount of intelligence as well as a GED, you can actually be (with some providential assistance) quite successful (again, relatively speaking).
-------------------------
Angie and I have three daughters, all from our sole 23 years of marriage (by God's grace). Our oldest is a junior, middle a freshman, and youngest, a 4th grader. All of these attend public schools, as I said earlier on.
Our daughters dialogue much about their relational travails with their Mississippi classmates at their respective schools. Just this past week, our freshman relayed an interesting tale of how some of her missing clothes (out of her backpack during PE class) waltzed into school a few weeks later. She was aghast to see one of her favorite T-shirts on a fellow 9th grader, and similarly, her gym shorts being modeled by another freshman.
The 4th grader too has tales to share. Kids who bully by calling names or using profanity.
And too, there's the drug use, or at least what many of their fellow students objectify as such relative to their chosen identity within that regard. Is it legit? Who knows. Acknowledging the fact that (most) teenagers do love to run their mouths.
-------------------------
One evening this past week, having tallied up most of these tales over the past 30 days, I sat the Turner girls down and explained the realities they're being asked to face by being students amongst all the other Mississippi students within Mississippi public schools.
Thankfully, they took both my commentary in stride as well as (once again), their situation(s). In fact, they wouldn't have it any other way (as if they knew otherwise).
Now, how does this relate to Samson Society?
-------------------------
The biggest deterrent to buying into a Samson Society community is stigma, and in many ways, it's an adult version of the exact same stigma that motivates many a Mississippi parent to eschew public schooling (in Mississippi) for their children.
Often men walk into a meeting, and they adorn their haughty eyes. Eyes of criticality. Pride. Arrogance. And, it's all downhill from there.
Satan's greatest victory is deceiving a newbie into believing that Samson Society MUST BE ADJUDICATED AS A PLACE WHERE HE HIMSELF CAN BENEFIT EXCLUSIVELY.
And when said newbie determines / decides otherwise, he's out of there. And this is because he's deceived into believing that it's all about his needs / his healing being met. Exclusively.
-------------------------
Why do we send our children to public school?
For a number of reasons, one of which is to have them positively influence our beloved Mississippi - for the better. And no, the Turner girls aren't perfect, but they are fully engaged yet reticent enough to endure whilst giving back / loving well - both their public school teachers and fellow students.
Do our three daughters come from picture perfect homes? Of course not. In order to prove that, simply read about their father (me), the author of this SS blog. Though Angie and I have longevity on our side relative to our marriage, it's no less fragile / vulnerable to our propensity towards sin of every kind.
Public school is hard. Samson Society is hard. But both should be because real life is hard - particularly when we're faced with other Mississippian's shit head on. But, that's okay. God can and does work in and through those difficulties.
In closing, one sizable differentiator between participating within the Metro Jackson Samson Society and being a Mississippi public school student is there's no parental influence in the background to encourage / motivate you to stay committed. Therefore, you must rely on God instead, remembering all the while that it's not just about you and where you happen to be at for such a time as this.
Thursday, March 5, 2020
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
Grateful For The Opportunity!
I so appreciate formal opportunities to present my thoughts on the Metro Jackson Samson Society. Giving men just enough of my story to hopefully pique their interest enough to follow up, either soon thereafter or at some point down the road. That's what it's all about, and what makes me super happy.
Most of the time, men don't darken the door of a Samson Society meeting 'till their world is crumbling, or they've had the fear of God put in them relative to the potential of that soon happening.
My next post will address this in more detail. That being, how we're enslaved to our facades, first and foremost - refusing obstinately to admit to needing help / exposing our true self.
-------------------------
In summary, last night, I presented with my Silas in tandem at a Lakeside men's book study meeting.
I'm beaming today.
There is no personal weapon against Satan's influence / dominion over this world that is more effective / disrupting than your story of grace (whether it involves Samson Society or not).
Therefore, take advantage of opportunities to speak up!
Most of the time, men don't darken the door of a Samson Society meeting 'till their world is crumbling, or they've had the fear of God put in them relative to the potential of that soon happening.
My next post will address this in more detail. That being, how we're enslaved to our facades, first and foremost - refusing obstinately to admit to needing help / exposing our true self.
-------------------------
In summary, last night, I presented with my Silas in tandem at a Lakeside men's book study meeting.
I'm beaming today.
There is no personal weapon against Satan's influence / dominion over this world that is more effective / disrupting than your story of grace (whether it involves Samson Society or not).
Therefore, take advantage of opportunities to speak up!
Friday, February 28, 2020
Home (Hell) Economics (To The NO)
I was describing to a Samson brother my life growing up as it pertained to my mother's role within our abode. Before I go there, you must know the ranch house the Turners resided in was modest but typical for the '70s (when it was constructed) in that the lot was sizable. Hence, it was plenty big for team sports (which there were none), tons of landscaping (which there were plenty & room for more), dog pen (there was one), fruit trees (a few), etc. You have to remember, dear reader, that social media didn't exist back then, therefore we weren't all just sitting around staring at our pocket computers all day - inside our house. Obviously, the yard served us well for at least nine months out of the year.
My mother was not only the professional home / yard economist but also the decorator / designer. It was like living with Martha Stewart but without the college degree (or the millions in personal net worth). Refined, by Mississippi standards, is how I like to think of Darlene back in the '80s (during my childhood). She was, at the time, in her late 20s.
-------------------------
Wives who don't Darlene their abodes are normal.
It took me awhile to realize this, but after just a few short months of being married to my sweet Angie, she effectively beat / threatened it in to me.
The majority of men are really only interested in sex within the home. And this is because they're men. For a guy who's made a commitment to marriage, he feels entitled to it. And on his watch, thank you very much.
So this presents a quagmire. Who's to keep up the home if the husband / wife / children who reside within have no focus there?
-------------------------
A little background on my 'rents before I go any further. My mother grew up in poverty in rural northwest Mississippi. And when I say rural, I'm referring to - out in the middle of a soybean / cotton field rural - with only a dirt road between the house and nearest highway.
My father grew up not far from that spot, but within the nearest small town (population: +/-1,500). The household he grew up in had maids and cooks. Most of which were men. These blacks did everything for my father and his 3 brothers, and they didn't leave the house at night 'till the children were asleep in bed. Essentially, they were indentured servants from the standpoint that were they to fall down on the job, the only other work available to them was out of doors in the Mississippi heat / humidity amongst the laborers within the fields. My grandmother, when she was present, issued the orders relative to housework, yard maintenance, cooking. She was excellent at being a hyper critical authoritarian. Believe me, it was her gift.
So...you put two teenagers together like these two, being reared in these very distinct but dynamically different environments, and you end up with the household I was reared within.
-------------------------
Now back to answering my question.
The men ought to take the lead here. You're more physically capable. Plus, you're the head of the household.
Now, does that mean he's responsible for everything? No. But, he should be responsible for the tough items that no one else really wants to handle or can handle with aplomb.
And why is this?
Taking care of your home is a perfect analogy to being involved in Samson Society (when Samson Society hasn't become a social club for you). It's quality work that gives back over the course of week. You attend a meeting, stay in touch with your Silas, and your week / marriage is better for it.
Do you want to admit to anyone that you've just spent a couple of hours engaged in housework - vacuuming / mopping, cleaning out toilets, sorting / washing / drying / folding laundry, loading / unloading the dishwasher, dusting, cleaning out the garage, taking out the trash? No.
Do you want to admit to anyone that you're committed to an organization like Samson Society - its weekly meetings and The Path? Probably not, unless they're a close friend or perhaps someone you feel compelled to invite.
But if you'll take the lead within your household, hopefully you'll find some help will lovingly fall in line as a result. Again, not unlike doing the work within Samson Society. I just feel it's a valid analogy.
-------------------------
Do you recall a couple of years back, the mainstream S & M films made from cheap, online erotica novels? I believe they were titled 50 Shades...
The books / films were modeled around the notion that a woman could become romantically captivated to a man who insisted she sign a relationship contract with him. From what little I know, the contract stipulated the terms of their relationship, and him being the framer of said contract, of course, it was biased towards him, his needs / desires, etc.
It's an age old idea (that's rooted unfortunately in the not so distant past). Wives as property. No different than any other asset on the Balance Sheet.
What's not at all surprising is that these books / films were consumed in droves by none other than modern day women.
Of course, it didn't help matters that the protagonists was a self-made billionaire, but I digress.
-------------------------
So men, do the work. Set the standard. Lead by serving your wives well. Mr. Clean isn't just a fine example of marketing genius, but a secret weapon of many a husband who's itching to bed his gratititous wife.
And keep coming to Samson Society meetings (& communicating with your Silas). The example you set is just as effective at fostering change / maturity as the work that you're choosing to prioritize.
My mother was not only the professional home / yard economist but also the decorator / designer. It was like living with Martha Stewart but without the college degree (or the millions in personal net worth). Refined, by Mississippi standards, is how I like to think of Darlene back in the '80s (during my childhood). She was, at the time, in her late 20s.
-------------------------
Wives who don't Darlene their abodes are normal.
It took me awhile to realize this, but after just a few short months of being married to my sweet Angie, she effectively beat / threatened it in to me.
The majority of men are really only interested in sex within the home. And this is because they're men. For a guy who's made a commitment to marriage, he feels entitled to it. And on his watch, thank you very much.
So this presents a quagmire. Who's to keep up the home if the husband / wife / children who reside within have no focus there?
-------------------------
A little background on my 'rents before I go any further. My mother grew up in poverty in rural northwest Mississippi. And when I say rural, I'm referring to - out in the middle of a soybean / cotton field rural - with only a dirt road between the house and nearest highway.
My father grew up not far from that spot, but within the nearest small town (population: +/-1,500). The household he grew up in had maids and cooks. Most of which were men. These blacks did everything for my father and his 3 brothers, and they didn't leave the house at night 'till the children were asleep in bed. Essentially, they were indentured servants from the standpoint that were they to fall down on the job, the only other work available to them was out of doors in the Mississippi heat / humidity amongst the laborers within the fields. My grandmother, when she was present, issued the orders relative to housework, yard maintenance, cooking. She was excellent at being a hyper critical authoritarian. Believe me, it was her gift.
So...you put two teenagers together like these two, being reared in these very distinct but dynamically different environments, and you end up with the household I was reared within.
-------------------------
Now back to answering my question.
The men ought to take the lead here. You're more physically capable. Plus, you're the head of the household.
Now, does that mean he's responsible for everything? No. But, he should be responsible for the tough items that no one else really wants to handle or can handle with aplomb.
And why is this?
Taking care of your home is a perfect analogy to being involved in Samson Society (when Samson Society hasn't become a social club for you). It's quality work that gives back over the course of week. You attend a meeting, stay in touch with your Silas, and your week / marriage is better for it.
Do you want to admit to anyone that you've just spent a couple of hours engaged in housework - vacuuming / mopping, cleaning out toilets, sorting / washing / drying / folding laundry, loading / unloading the dishwasher, dusting, cleaning out the garage, taking out the trash? No.
Do you want to admit to anyone that you're committed to an organization like Samson Society - its weekly meetings and The Path? Probably not, unless they're a close friend or perhaps someone you feel compelled to invite.
But if you'll take the lead within your household, hopefully you'll find some help will lovingly fall in line as a result. Again, not unlike doing the work within Samson Society. I just feel it's a valid analogy.
-------------------------
Do you recall a couple of years back, the mainstream S & M films made from cheap, online erotica novels? I believe they were titled 50 Shades...
The books / films were modeled around the notion that a woman could become romantically captivated to a man who insisted she sign a relationship contract with him. From what little I know, the contract stipulated the terms of their relationship, and him being the framer of said contract, of course, it was biased towards him, his needs / desires, etc.
It's an age old idea (that's rooted unfortunately in the not so distant past). Wives as property. No different than any other asset on the Balance Sheet.
What's not at all surprising is that these books / films were consumed in droves by none other than modern day women.
Of course, it didn't help matters that the protagonists was a self-made billionaire, but I digress.
-------------------------
So men, do the work. Set the standard. Lead by serving your wives well. Mr. Clean isn't just a fine example of marketing genius, but a secret weapon of many a husband who's itching to bed his gratititous wife.
And keep coming to Samson Society meetings (& communicating with your Silas). The example you set is just as effective at fostering change / maturity as the work that you're choosing to prioritize.
Wednesday, February 26, 2020
High Risk
My first Silas (pre-Samson Society) believed I was psychic. That supposed precognitive ability of mine (from his point of view) was tied to a heightened emotional state of mind. I never quite knew what to do with that opinion, but nonetheless, I do know that all of us have eyes connected to a brain and most of those brains have the ability to think / forecast or analyze risk.
I can remember specifically warning him on a few occasions regarding what I believed (or felt) might play out for him in relation to his dealings specifically with those in authority over him. And suffice to say, those alarms proved to be accurate.
But, I'm certainly not psychic. Just sometimes quite concerned. And at times, so much so that I speak up.
-------------------------
I was a high school marching band geek at the private academy I attended in Madison back in the '80s. One of our band directors during my tenure there was a believer in mandatory band camp. If you're unfamiliar with that concept, it was a week in the summer spent, usually at a community college campus, learning the rudiments of the fall's marching show(s). I can't say band camp was much fun, but neither was band overall. Yet, it was a placeholder for the geeks and freaks of high school, and that was enough. Everyone needs a place.
One of my bandmates, whom I somewhat remember specifically, was a year older than me. He was an avid horn player and loved skateboarding. Everywhere he went, he had his skateboard, but this was especially so whilst with all of us at band camp.
Being a band geek meant you certainly weren't athletic, but obviously riding, jumping, performing stunts with a skateboard was / is best reserved for individuals with some or much athletic skill. This guy had only a minuscule amount.
But, he tried hard. Plus, he got a skater's haircut. Yet, in the end, the skateboard got the best of him, and he ended up with a broken leg.
I distinctly remember him on crutches for what seemed like forever and a day as he hobbled around school with his entire leg within a cast first then a giant stabilizing boot. That cast / boot threw a wrench in everyone's (mainly his fam) schedule relative to caring for this wounded teen. Nonetheless, it was sobering to observe from arm's length, not once suspecting that he'd end up with such an injury.
From there, the skateboard went into the garbage, but he kept the haircut (which actually looked pretty good on him).
-------------------------
When is it smart to speak up on behalf of high risk behaviors / conditions / scenarios in an attempt to warn a brother / demonstrate concern in Christ?
I put the answer to that question into the same category as making a move on your wife in an attempt to get laid.
One must proceed with the other person's well being in mind. Otherwise, their reaction (no matter what it may be) will potentially make too much impact (positive or negative) on your own self-worth (which should only be rooted in Christ).
-------------------------
Intercourse within the marriage bed is in line with God's design when it's executed with the other's needs in mind exclusively. And that also pertains to whether or not your spouse is interested in coitus at all at that particular time. This can be a hard sell for guys, but nonetheless, it's scriptural.
And this leads or points us towards the next level of relationship down from there. That being friendships.
Your friendship is an investment in another man, but not for your own good. For his. Therefore, opening your mouth in warning should never be executed to make you look smart or him not so smart. It's an act of love through caring. Caring enough to speak up.
Otherwise, you're simply being too self-centered / self focused. And that's no good for either your spouse nor your friends.
Say it with me now. I. Care. About. You. Even to the point of risking your rejection of me in relation to my concerns.
Lastly, the older you are, typically, the more experience-based counsel you're privileged to share. I would argue this far exceeds the value of even being psychic.
I can remember specifically warning him on a few occasions regarding what I believed (or felt) might play out for him in relation to his dealings specifically with those in authority over him. And suffice to say, those alarms proved to be accurate.
But, I'm certainly not psychic. Just sometimes quite concerned. And at times, so much so that I speak up.
-------------------------
I was a high school marching band geek at the private academy I attended in Madison back in the '80s. One of our band directors during my tenure there was a believer in mandatory band camp. If you're unfamiliar with that concept, it was a week in the summer spent, usually at a community college campus, learning the rudiments of the fall's marching show(s). I can't say band camp was much fun, but neither was band overall. Yet, it was a placeholder for the geeks and freaks of high school, and that was enough. Everyone needs a place.
One of my bandmates, whom I somewhat remember specifically, was a year older than me. He was an avid horn player and loved skateboarding. Everywhere he went, he had his skateboard, but this was especially so whilst with all of us at band camp.
Being a band geek meant you certainly weren't athletic, but obviously riding, jumping, performing stunts with a skateboard was / is best reserved for individuals with some or much athletic skill. This guy had only a minuscule amount.
But, he tried hard. Plus, he got a skater's haircut. Yet, in the end, the skateboard got the best of him, and he ended up with a broken leg.
I distinctly remember him on crutches for what seemed like forever and a day as he hobbled around school with his entire leg within a cast first then a giant stabilizing boot. That cast / boot threw a wrench in everyone's (mainly his fam) schedule relative to caring for this wounded teen. Nonetheless, it was sobering to observe from arm's length, not once suspecting that he'd end up with such an injury.
From there, the skateboard went into the garbage, but he kept the haircut (which actually looked pretty good on him).
-------------------------
When is it smart to speak up on behalf of high risk behaviors / conditions / scenarios in an attempt to warn a brother / demonstrate concern in Christ?
I put the answer to that question into the same category as making a move on your wife in an attempt to get laid.
One must proceed with the other person's well being in mind. Otherwise, their reaction (no matter what it may be) will potentially make too much impact (positive or negative) on your own self-worth (which should only be rooted in Christ).
-------------------------
Intercourse within the marriage bed is in line with God's design when it's executed with the other's needs in mind exclusively. And that also pertains to whether or not your spouse is interested in coitus at all at that particular time. This can be a hard sell for guys, but nonetheless, it's scriptural.
And this leads or points us towards the next level of relationship down from there. That being friendships.
Your friendship is an investment in another man, but not for your own good. For his. Therefore, opening your mouth in warning should never be executed to make you look smart or him not so smart. It's an act of love through caring. Caring enough to speak up.
Otherwise, you're simply being too self-centered / self focused. And that's no good for either your spouse nor your friends.
Say it with me now. I. Care. About. You. Even to the point of risking your rejection of me in relation to my concerns.
Lastly, the older you are, typically, the more experience-based counsel you're privileged to share. I would argue this far exceeds the value of even being psychic.
Monday, February 24, 2020
Several
Back when Angie and I were first married (20+ years ago), a good friend of hers from college was slated to be married in Houston, TX, therefore we drove there for the nuptials and while Ang was at the early Saturday morn staging / bridesmaid brunch (the wedding was Saturday afternoon), I chose to use my time alone within a strange city not so wisely.
-------------------------
I can remember one of my bosses alluding to me potentially finding a record of "hot tub sex" on his laptop's browser back in the early days of the www (dial up). This occurred whilst asking him if I could borrow it to do some research for an architectural project I was working on. He obviously didn't know how to clear the browsing history, and subsequently, he blamed his stepson for what I might stumble across, which I thought was both clever and cowardly.
-------------------------
The adult bookstore I browsed through that day in Houston while Angie was across town at Second Baptist Church had one thing I wanted to experience, and that was the "back rooms" where you could screen porn within what can only be described as "porn stalls" (they're like makeshift ADA compliant bathroom stalls). I'm not sure how I became familiar with these backrooms being in existence conceptually, but nonetheless, I was intensely curious. Since this was well before the advent of the www, these backrooms served as an outlet for men to not only screen porn but to hook up with strangers as well (this latter purpose hadn't quite registered with me at the time).
I had visited my local adult bookstore here in Jackson on a few occasions, but I was not about to even inquire if they had a back room area for fear of looking even more perverted / bumping into someone I knew, but in Houston, TX, due to my anonymity, these concerns weren't valid. Hence, my foray into the seediest, most despondent place I've ever found myself within - literally it's the closest thing I've experienced to hell on Earth in terms of the emotional fallout.
-------------------------
So, why was I doing this on such a noteworthy Saturday while my wife was preparing to celebrate with her college friend?
I wanted to look at gay porn whilst satisfying my curiosity / rebellious itch. It was as simple as that. Plus, I felt empowered / predestined to do so.
And this did occur within one of those "porn stalls" prior to me making a discreet exit. Thinking back on it now, it was similar to the time I skinny-dipped in our neighborhood swimming pool around 1 AM on a summer morning as a high school student.
After cleaning up (they conveniently provided paper towel dispensers), I decided to never, ever, ever do this again. It was akin to stepping off into a cesspool of darkness, and the shame inducing clincher for me was the audacity of me willingly participating in these shenanigans behind my new wife's back - while she was at church nonetheless!
-------------------------
I've had friends who've chosen to also venture down the same adult bookstore back room road that I just described, only to find themselves taking strangers with them back home for sex.
It can happen. You get a lot of horny men together...within a setting like that...really dark outcomes can result.
And this leads me to our present circumstances relative to the www and the opportunities which abound for hook ups / porn use galore. Right from the comfort of your own home / office. But before I go there...
To circle back to my former boss and his stepson story, I never once believed he wasn't the culprit, but too, I didn't get the sense that it was more than a one-time affair. Of course, I may have been wrong, but my hope is, even to this day, still intact.
-------------------------
So what is the difference in a one-time event versus a several-time event? I did title this post as such.
All of us take that first step into sinful behavior. Whatever it may be. This behavior is what defines us as fallen. But its those who return back to that same behavior that are truly selling their souls (I'm convinced of it because I've done it!).
My dad has told me a story (on a few occasions) of him traveling on business as a young man, and taking the opportunity to consume pay-per-view porn within his hotel room. Apparently, he was up most of the night as he took advantage of the privacy / convenience. From there, he made a commitment to never return to that sinful behavior, and knowing my father, he kept that promise to himself from that point forward, knowing full well that sexual sin just isn't a problem for him and never will be.
When I was at my lowest point whilst working in Cleveland, MS, it was both the isolation as well as the gosh awful shame born out of - yet again - returning to Internet porn use. Oh how much self-loathing I was in bondage to! It was absolutely suffocating. Hence, I was desperate for rescue and relief!
-------------------------
Sometimes, we must get to that point. That point where our "solution" literally begins to rip our souls in two in order for us to be in the very best place of desperation. Desperation which precedes God's hand of impactful acting deliverance.
I have a Samson friend who I've known for many years now. He's not active within the community but once was here in Jackson back when there was only one centralized group. His communication with me is and has always been fragmented / sporadic, but nonetheless succinct and therefore enough to sustain the cursory relationship. For quite some time, he's reached out to me during his lowest periods, and I've always been honored to lend an ear. Whether it was related to his struggles with alcohol, his family, his health, work or his sexuality.
Last Friday, I received a call from him, having not heard anything for a few months. He was in a tough spot again with his health and work.
So, I listened and we prayed.
But then later on during that same day, he disclosed the truth about where he actually was holistically (figuratively) as well as what he'd been up to since we last spoke.
And that's when my heart broke, and I found myself reliving vicariously those final months whilst in Cleveland, MS. The sense of powerlessness was immense combined with the fear and desperate heartache for my rebellious brother.
And I'm still there in many ways, even as I type this.
There's something to be said - as human beings - for dabbling in sin. It truly is what defines us like a viral infection that affects every part of our lives. That being said, it's genuinely stupid and high risk yet very, very normal. But it becomes altogether different when you commit yourself to that sinful behavior, forgetting these truths, returning again and again to choices which will ultimately lead to certain death. May all of us see that slippery slope. God help us all to long for redemption and rescue from ourselves before it's too late.
-------------------------
I can remember one of my bosses alluding to me potentially finding a record of "hot tub sex" on his laptop's browser back in the early days of the www (dial up). This occurred whilst asking him if I could borrow it to do some research for an architectural project I was working on. He obviously didn't know how to clear the browsing history, and subsequently, he blamed his stepson for what I might stumble across, which I thought was both clever and cowardly.
-------------------------
The adult bookstore I browsed through that day in Houston while Angie was across town at Second Baptist Church had one thing I wanted to experience, and that was the "back rooms" where you could screen porn within what can only be described as "porn stalls" (they're like makeshift ADA compliant bathroom stalls). I'm not sure how I became familiar with these backrooms being in existence conceptually, but nonetheless, I was intensely curious. Since this was well before the advent of the www, these backrooms served as an outlet for men to not only screen porn but to hook up with strangers as well (this latter purpose hadn't quite registered with me at the time).
I had visited my local adult bookstore here in Jackson on a few occasions, but I was not about to even inquire if they had a back room area for fear of looking even more perverted / bumping into someone I knew, but in Houston, TX, due to my anonymity, these concerns weren't valid. Hence, my foray into the seediest, most despondent place I've ever found myself within - literally it's the closest thing I've experienced to hell on Earth in terms of the emotional fallout.
-------------------------
So, why was I doing this on such a noteworthy Saturday while my wife was preparing to celebrate with her college friend?
I wanted to look at gay porn whilst satisfying my curiosity / rebellious itch. It was as simple as that. Plus, I felt empowered / predestined to do so.
And this did occur within one of those "porn stalls" prior to me making a discreet exit. Thinking back on it now, it was similar to the time I skinny-dipped in our neighborhood swimming pool around 1 AM on a summer morning as a high school student.
After cleaning up (they conveniently provided paper towel dispensers), I decided to never, ever, ever do this again. It was akin to stepping off into a cesspool of darkness, and the shame inducing clincher for me was the audacity of me willingly participating in these shenanigans behind my new wife's back - while she was at church nonetheless!
-------------------------
I've had friends who've chosen to also venture down the same adult bookstore back room road that I just described, only to find themselves taking strangers with them back home for sex.
It can happen. You get a lot of horny men together...within a setting like that...really dark outcomes can result.
And this leads me to our present circumstances relative to the www and the opportunities which abound for hook ups / porn use galore. Right from the comfort of your own home / office. But before I go there...
To circle back to my former boss and his stepson story, I never once believed he wasn't the culprit, but too, I didn't get the sense that it was more than a one-time affair. Of course, I may have been wrong, but my hope is, even to this day, still intact.
-------------------------
So what is the difference in a one-time event versus a several-time event? I did title this post as such.
All of us take that first step into sinful behavior. Whatever it may be. This behavior is what defines us as fallen. But its those who return back to that same behavior that are truly selling their souls (I'm convinced of it because I've done it!).
My dad has told me a story (on a few occasions) of him traveling on business as a young man, and taking the opportunity to consume pay-per-view porn within his hotel room. Apparently, he was up most of the night as he took advantage of the privacy / convenience. From there, he made a commitment to never return to that sinful behavior, and knowing my father, he kept that promise to himself from that point forward, knowing full well that sexual sin just isn't a problem for him and never will be.
When I was at my lowest point whilst working in Cleveland, MS, it was both the isolation as well as the gosh awful shame born out of - yet again - returning to Internet porn use. Oh how much self-loathing I was in bondage to! It was absolutely suffocating. Hence, I was desperate for rescue and relief!
-------------------------
Sometimes, we must get to that point. That point where our "solution" literally begins to rip our souls in two in order for us to be in the very best place of desperation. Desperation which precedes God's hand of impactful acting deliverance.
I have a Samson friend who I've known for many years now. He's not active within the community but once was here in Jackson back when there was only one centralized group. His communication with me is and has always been fragmented / sporadic, but nonetheless succinct and therefore enough to sustain the cursory relationship. For quite some time, he's reached out to me during his lowest periods, and I've always been honored to lend an ear. Whether it was related to his struggles with alcohol, his family, his health, work or his sexuality.
Last Friday, I received a call from him, having not heard anything for a few months. He was in a tough spot again with his health and work.
So, I listened and we prayed.
But then later on during that same day, he disclosed the truth about where he actually was holistically (figuratively) as well as what he'd been up to since we last spoke.
And that's when my heart broke, and I found myself reliving vicariously those final months whilst in Cleveland, MS. The sense of powerlessness was immense combined with the fear and desperate heartache for my rebellious brother.
And I'm still there in many ways, even as I type this.
There's something to be said - as human beings - for dabbling in sin. It truly is what defines us like a viral infection that affects every part of our lives. That being said, it's genuinely stupid and high risk yet very, very normal. But it becomes altogether different when you commit yourself to that sinful behavior, forgetting these truths, returning again and again to choices which will ultimately lead to certain death. May all of us see that slippery slope. God help us all to long for redemption and rescue from ourselves before it's too late.
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