Welcome Back, Addict

Addict isn't a moniker I use often, but I'm beginning to warm up to it more and more these days.  And this is because I'm beginning to understand what differentiates an addict from everyone else.  My first Silas dubbed himself a "porn addict", and this was +/-15 years ago (well before either of us had even heard of Samson Society).  He described his use of porn akin to brushing his teeth each day in spite of his role as our church's Youth Pastor.  The experience brought him absolutely zero remorse / guilt.  Instead, it was his go-to for that dopamine hit - time & time again.

This man's vocation (spiritual conspicuousness) suffered tremendously as a result, but just as much, his laziness was to blame.  At the time, his sweet wife was more than willing to run their household (they had three small children) while he committed himself to "down time" (Internet porn, online video games, and obsessive Alabama football fandom).  Too, this friend was one of the first to purchase an iPhone (for both he & his wife), making it that much easier to follow through with his MO whilst sitting on his rear end.

But back then, I simply couldn't stomach the word addict combined with Internet porn.  Even if our then Youth Pastor felt no remorse towards his prolific sin.  Instead, what I saw was an enabling combined with nomenclature justification.  Regarding the former, it came from both his wife and his employer (our church), not to mention the culture (ease of access / overall smugness towards porn) and technology itself.

And regarding the latter, I believe he also exploited the term in order to justify his chronic use of Internet porn to that much a greater degree.  So, I truly don't believe he - in particular - was ever addicted to porn.  

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But what about the "porn addict" who's not an enabled lazy bum?  What if he's instead a hyper-involved, overly responsible community servant who just happens to use a steady stream of porn to jack off to regularly?  Add to those descriptors his struggle with general anxiety disorder combined with a markedly different pre-Christian "life" (narrative) than post-Christian.

What about this guy?  Is he truly addicted?

To answer this question, you must know that this guy has recently been introduced to a weekly Samson Society (virtual), and as such, he's routinely involving himself in a 30+ member group of seasoned Samson guys.  And this ongoing experience has rocked his world.  He feels like he's found Xanadu, and the communal blessings therein continue to bolster his fortitude against his private vice.

And this is so much so that this guy's even signed up for this fall's 2022 National Samson Society retreat (having only been involved in the Samson community for a few months).   

As a result, his private behaviors have become much more intentionally not regarding sexual sin (because in his mind, they're no longer private, thanks to his virtual Samson community).  To add to that, he's even beginning to recognize how his behavior impacts (even if it's the tiniest bit) the community he's now found himself a part of.  And this motivates him to stop seeing himself as singular / lonely / isolated / removed / pariah.  Thanks be to God.

I have no idea if this guy is an addict.  The jury is still out.

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A couple of three weeks ago, an old friend telephoned me out of the blue.  I first connected with this guy decades ago whilst architecting.  From our very first juncture, I was absolutely intrigued by this dude.  He was handsome, intelligent, articulate yet so very reserved and formal, almost to the point of Victorian.  At the time, I'd no idea what it meant for anyone - much less someone like him - to be so deeply ashamed of your / their past.  Therefore, I didn't recognize it, or if I did, I chose not to see it.  Instead, I just assumed he was wired a bit differently than most (if not everyone else I'd met up to that point in time).

Alcoholism is / has been quite the destructive force within my old friend's ancestry.  He once told me that his parents chose to marry due to their "compatibility" relative to drinking (they were drinking buddies).  He also shared that at one point during his childhood (growing up in Yazoo City), he and his sister found themselves going door to door, pleading with their tone-deaf neighbors to intervene back at their home.  He went on to say that he and sis desperately feared that their father would beat their mother to death, all in a fit of alcohol-fueled rage.  Hence, their motivation to forlornly seek help. 

It was during my old friend's grad school days (in Iowa) where life for him truly went off the rails.  So much so that were it not for his mother's instinctual rescue, he'd likely have ended up dead.  Alcohol played a sizable role therein.

Yesterday, he spent an hour or so with me here at the house.  By his account, he's +/-100 days sober.  Regular AA meetings combined with his sponsor combined with group and individual therapy sessions are critically important for him to stay sober.  Even today, as a mid 50s man, he's monetarily / emotionally dependent on his mother.  Yet, he's at peace with that lack of autonomy, knowing full well how destructive his alcohol-fueled - independent - forays can be.  

In my opinion, this old friend is most definitely an addict.  For it is a chemical substance he's craving.  One that's administered via drink.  I welcome him with open arms back into my life.  Thanks be to God.

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What drew me to viewing Internet porn at work, eventually leading to my termination from Delta State University in September of 2013?  First off, up to that point in time (& even whilst living in Cleveland), I only had readily available access to gay porn at work.  That combined with so much of my behavior being fueled by intense curiosity, relative to what the Internet had in store for me, partially answers the aforementioned question.  Beyond that, it eventually became apparent that consuming gay porn at work had become a risk-taking adventure.  An adventure that drew me in as much as the salacious imagery itself. 

For it's through risk-taking that I experience tangible feelings of masculinity.  Especially if the risk-taking behavior is externally non-descript (shockingly out of character) yet internally capricious.  Viewing gay porn (of all things for a married, Christian man to be looking at!) fit the bill perfectly in that regard.  

Now, that being said, I experienced tremendous amounts of guilt for both wasting my employers' time and risking the destruction of my Christian witness (I wrote about this extensively on my many years now defunct personal blog).  Also, gay porn's draw to me was definitely proportional to how uninterested in my work I happened to be.  In essence, monotony / fatigue did me no favors in this regard.  

Therefore, I most definitely wasn't an addict.  I was / am more like my former Youth Pastor friend.

I was curious, bored whilst languishing over the sin-laden rush I'd receive via my masculine-feeling ruse.  It was as simple as that.

Small Man's Sexual Prowess / Coitus Resume Levels The Playing Field

I had the most eye-opening conversation yesterday.  It put so much needed perspective on the affirming power of intercourse for small men.  Plus, it deeply impressed upon me how differently I would view intercourse if:

1.  I had ever viewed myself as a small man.

2.  I'd had frequent, intensely pleasurable intercourse as a boy.

Now, full disclosure.  When Rob looks internally, Rob sees a void.  Invisible.  Most men aren't like Rob.  Instead, most men see themselves in comparison to other men, and that has a lot to do with how other men treat them in kind.

For those men who see themselves as physically diminutive, I'm convinced that their sexual prowess can, in their eyes, level the playing field.  And I suppose this originates from coitus itself, taken from the standpoint of being allowed / granted the opportunity to participate.  And that participation "entrance exam" consisting of an unspoken belief in the small man's credentials therein.  In other words, if he's chosen, it's not instinctual (in heat).  No, if he's chosen - HE - it's because she CHOOSES all of him to rock her world.

In essence, because "small man's" in fact small (there's no denying that), perhaps there's the belief that his sexual prowess overcompensates / makes up for his stature (in his mind), or to take that a step further, he may even see it as his very own superpower / McGuffin.

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Are strip clubs frequented moreso by small men?  And if so, is it because strip clubs denature or strip away the patrons' figurative (everyday) qualities and only leave behind their sexual prowess?  What about massage parlors?  Both of these places are filled with beautiful, sexy women who're identifying / adjudicating the male patrons discriminately through (one of a handful) the lens of their sexual prowess.  

If a stripper feels drawn to small men, that's perfectly okay with him because there's the assumption that her attraction negates / marginalizes his stature and only considers his sexual prowess (holistically). 

Where can a small man certainly NOT BE OVERLOOKED within the world of men he inhabits - day in and day out?  Certainly not (from his perspective) at church or work or on the golf course / at the gym.  Where then?

A world where his unique toolset of sexual prowess equalizes.  Especially if his lasered-into-his-brain sex resume points all the way back to his childhood (when he first had intercourse a dozen or so times with his girlfriend on her parents' couch).  For he was only sixteen years-old then with a height of 5'-7" and weight of 110 lbs.  Hence, he was no doubt small, but seduced into pumping that beautiful thing full of semen over and over and over again.  And this girl knew exactly what she wanted from her small boyfriend.  AND HE ADORED EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

And this is where coitus short-circuited his boy brain, giving his sexuality, as a young man, an elevated, domineering platform (wickedly unhealthy bias) from which to peer down from. 

And even now, as a middle-aged man, his sexuality is still on that platform, elevated above everything else.  It is the primary identifier of value, worth, and it's directly / primarily linked to small man's relationship with women (by far the most important gender).  ALBEIT EVERY SINGLE ATTRACTIVE (TO HIM) WOMAN ON PLANET EARTH.  Whether it's his wife, girlfriend, co-worker.  Any woman that he's either had intercourse with or senses would be interested - even in the slightest - of having a sexual relationship with small man.  For she holds the key to legitimizing him emotionally via her willingness to take part in a sexual exchange.

In the end, this is what draws him again and again back to the strip club / whorehouse / massage parlor / phone sex numbers / emotional affairs.  There's a justification there that perfectly synchronizes with his need for feeling loved / accepted in a manner he can interpret.

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Years ago, I met my first small man (by his own definition).  And to me, he wouldn't necessarily qualify as such, but he had been a lean, wiry boy and that self-loathing sorta stuck therein.  This man was brilliant, hard-working, articulate, but none of those attributes could overwrite / compete introspectively with his "smallness".  Every fiber of his being was consistently wrestling with this notion of not measuring up physically.  And oh my goodness, did it ever fuel the commiserate hyper-competitive, hyper-critical cynic that he was.  He was literally in bondage to himself.

By my standards, his height was certainly normal (well above average), but overall, he definitely was built lean.  Not surprisingly, this young man loved John Mayer's music, and of course, had John Mayer been a muscled-up "douchebag" (his words), his opinion of his music would have been decidedly different.

I have to wonder how old Mr. John Mayer was when he was first seduced into pumping that beautiful thing full of semen over and over and over again.  Maybe sixteen?

I'm going to be thinking about this all weekend.

I'm so fortunate to have had that dialogue with my small man friend.  

All of this is testimony to the confidence inspiring, wretchedly distorting power of coitus.

And btw, this is what our present-day culture presents as the standard for men (he even gives off electrical sparks he's so hot):

Check out the picture-perfect lighting on those waxed pecs / abs / arms.  This is what you call depression through entertainment.  

& btw, I have a hard time imagining Thor frequenting strip clubs (unless he himself is performing).  

Lagniappe

A Gesture Towards Putting Off Boyish Things

The Bible speaks of putting off "boyhood / childish things".  Why?

Because if you don't, those things will run counter to your own spiritual maturity as a Christian.  And that's the keyword here:  maturity.  Arguably, mostly via time wasting.

Most individuals who experience same-sex attraction (& be forewarned; I'm making a stereotypical statement here) are avid entertainment aficionados.  Whether it's television or film, social media or video games, music or theater.  Most know every entertainer, every lyric, every cover, re-make and spin-off because they marinate in it 24/7/365.  If you've ever wondered why corporate America duly embraces homosexuality, it all points back to the Almighty Dollar.  In other words, it can only help their bottom line to tow the cultural party line.    

Speaking of same-sex attracted men, here's a few fun facts:

A number of authors argue that same-sex attracted men are perpetually "stuck" within their youth relative to truly legitimizing their God-breathed sexuality.  

Fathers who struggle with SSA sometimes claim that rearing their sons allows them opportunities to resolve this emotional immaturity vicariously.

Again, the Bible speaks too "throwing / putting off" boyish things.

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Our pastor sometimes cites "the filth" that he and his wife screen on their television.  Too, he'll actually call out (on rare occasion) the congregation (in so many words) relative to his innocuous (heavy) social media involvement.  Out of the other side of his mouth, he'll preach an expository sermon each Sunday.  

And this juxtaposition isn't uncommon amongst Christians, though hopefully it's anomalous amongst pastors (ours) for it runs counter to scripture's commands. 

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Comic books were my upper elementary / middle school hobby.  Starting out with "Richie Rich" as an elementary student, I eventually moved to "The New Teen Titans".  From there, I read "Wonder Woman" and "Crisis on Infinite Earths" 'till eventually I was shopping at the local comic bookstore (in Ridgeland), spending way too much money than I should have been on all manner of "independently published" mags ("Dreadstar").

I kept these treasured newsprint gems in individual plastic baggies that looked like Ziplocs with no zipper before eventually amassing them all together within an empty Chick-A-Fil waffle fry box.  

My best friend, at the time, who also adored these little cartoon newsstand leaflets, soon took his hobby into overdrive.  He did this by establishing an "account" at the aforementioned comic bookstore.  Therein, they - in real time - physically accrued his favorite titles on his behalf (like a prepubescent P.O. Box).

Once I witnessed this over-the-top consumptive behavior, I chose to put the brakes on my overzealous comic book hobby.

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I remember, like it was yesterday, identifying the young man whom I'd be gifting my comic book stash.  Immediately prior to the handoff, I neatly organized each title, putting them in chronological order and separating them via neatly labeled cardstock dividers.  

I didn't actually make the drop face-to-face.  Instead, I simply put the waffle fry box in his disheveled bedroom and walked away (I was a friend of his father).  Walker (the recipient) was around 16 at the time.  I suppose I shouldn't have expected a thank-you note.  Nonetheless, it never did arrive.   

In the end, I have thought about those comic books an awful lot.  Wondering what it would be like to leaf through their many pages once again, or perhaps gift them to my children / grandchildren.  

And I believe that's to be expected.  Nonetheless, I've never regretted gifting them to my young Brookhaven friend.  For when I looked at him (at the time), I saw where I was departing / maturing (away) from.  Hence, he now bore a significant reminder of my youth inside that french fry box.    

Is there a boyish pastime (or relics therein) you'd benefit from jettisoning?  Something perhaps, that represents well, who you once were as a child?  If so, it should be something that you truly wish to hang on to throughout your adult life (as a means to look back and remember).  

Locate a young man to gift that to today, and from there, follow through.  No matter how much it pangs you to do so.

Processes like these are sure signs of maturation.

Recommended Reading

‘In Faithfulness You Have Afflicted Me’ | Desiring God

Recommended Listening

Honoring The Mother Ship's (First Baptist Church Jackson) Cherished '70s / '80s' Pastor - Dr. Frank Pollard - 3/05/78 transcript

 

Recommended Reading

A Wife No Man Would Want: Lessons from the Hardest Marriage | Desiring God

Electricity

Platonic attraction is like an electrical current between two guys.  Considering that, pride (& subsequently envy) will short circuit that charge instantly.

To expound on that last sentence:  if you aren't 100% thankful to be in this other guy's life, and as such, have the spotlight completely on him and what he brings to your life, that electricity between you two will diminish.  As such, eventually, it may very well cease, and if you're like me, the friendship will be difficult to maintain from there because...  

I'm of the opinion that dutiful friendships are for everywhere else but Samson Society.

A warning:  pride births posturing between men.  And I'm not referring to natural pecking orders when I say pride.  I'm referring to those subtle feelings that you're all-in-all better (smarter, wiser, faster, sexier, etc.) than the other man.  In opposition to that is envy which is pride's kissing cousin.  And we all know how envy works.

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As Christian men, we cannot deny our roles as Christian when we're serving other men platonically.  As such, this is our foundation as Samson men.  It's what binds us together - with always the goal in mind to recover.  Because recovery aligns us with Christ and his will for our lives whilst allowing us to see clearly who we are as his adopted son(s).  

I mentioned in an earlier post, my youngest daughter, Laura, and I screened the 2017 film Jungle.  Midway through that film, there's a scene between two of the main characters (young, adventurous men) where one reassures the other that "their friendship will not be impacted by their present (dire) circumstances".  He goes on to say that "everything will return to as it was before" (once their situation has returned to normal).  As you're watching this, there's no doubt that these lies are being spoken out of decency and politeness.   

And we Christians do this reflexively because it's hard to admit to attraction diminishing / ceasing altogether (circumstances being what they are).

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In closing, I'm of the opinion that electricity between Samson guys is an indicator of potential compatibility.  

Pay attention to it.  You may have identified - emotionally - a Samson guy who's garnering the goods needed in regard to motivating change IN YOU.  (Change is hard.) 

"Faith It 'Till You Make It" - Mr. Max Morton

That is the philosophy I lived under most of my life. I was weighed down by the expectations of others and desperately seeking acceptance and validation by my performance. Driven by my poor self-image I lacked confidence in what I thought I was supposed to be or know or do. So, for the most part I faked it. 

This was long before “Fake it ‘til ya make it” was a slogan, but I was the poster-boy for this ideal. I wasn’t sure what “making it” entailed, so I just continued to fake it, hoping that someday as I stayed ahead of being found out for the fake I really was, I would somehow make it–whatever that meant.

Where I didn’t know what to do in a certain situation, I faked it. When I didn’t know what others were expecting me to know I faked it. In my relationships, in my work, in my relationship with God, I faked it. You know what this made me? A fake.

I hid my authentic self from others for fear that they would reject me when they found out who I really was; what I didn’t know; what I couldn’t do. I really wanted people to accept me and validate me, but I thought I had to achieve this standard that was impossible to achieve, at least to my way of thinking, and living.

I also hid my authentic self from God. Deceived into thinking I could somehow fool Him I pretended to be someone I really wasn’t, as if He didn’t already know. I tried to serve Him to gain His good graces. I tried to live up to others' expectations of what sort of Christian I should be thinking that this would give me favor with Him. I really wanted His acceptance, and to feel His pleasure with me.

As I journeyed down the road of recovery, I began to discover that there were people, broken like me, who would allow me to be my authentic self. They accepted me in spite of my failures, my facades and my (insert F word of your choice here) -ups. As I began to get more and more honest with myself and share this in a safe environment, I began to receive healing from God. I slowly began to realize that the acceptance I sought I already had. He began to show me His pleasure with me as I cautiously lowered my mask and shared my broken self with others.

The more I did this the freer I became. Much to my surprise, I discovered that my vulnerability to share my brokenness not only set me free but helped others. That’s what I had been trying to do all along as I faked it. Now, the pleasure I sought to feel from God I found in my honesty. I discovered He loved me, not for who I could be for Him, not the mighty exploits I could do for Him, but because He loved me. He loves me when I do good, and string together stints of sobriety from my addiction. He loves me the same when I act out. He loves me not because of what I do; He loves me because that’s who He is. He is LOVE. And that applies to me.

Now I have a new slogan to live by: “Faith it ‘til you make it.”

I may not have the answers, I may not be able to do what someone else can do, I will never be able to live up to the expectations of others, but I am His. He loves me and has justified me–declared me to be in right standing with Him just as if no sin had ever occurred. Romans 1:17b says, “The just shall live by faith.” So, I am just, and I shall live by faith. I will “faith it ‘til I make it.” I will believe God for who He is and what He has promised me. I will believe I am who He says I am. 

I am resolved to “faith it ‘til I make it.” 

What does "making it" mean? Success? Getting into heaven? Happy marriage? How do we know when we’ve made it? I believe I already have made it. Knowing this love, living in this freedom, believing Him is all the “make it” I need.

"Letter To My Addiction" - JR Everhart

You entered my life as a 3-year-old child when I was helpless to understand the weight of your actions in me.  You stole my innocence, like a thief in the night.  And then brain washed me into thinking love could only be had through the act of sexual connection.  Throughout my childhood you taught me your evil ways.  The language of sexual manipulation.  You polluted my mind with every form of sexual desire and perversion.  Even in the face of honest change you refused to let go and led me around like a lost little puppy dog always promising satisfaction but never satisfying.  You distorted my phycological development before I even knew what that was.  I WAS JUST A LITTLE KID!  I didn’t deserve the sexual abuse and manipulation I had to live through.  I was an innocent little child just trying to fit into a highly dysfunctional family.  I just wanted to feel special and loved!  I needed that more than anything, and you knew that and used it to manipulate me into doing horrible sex acts for just a flake of attention and validation.  So much so I started pursuing the sexual abuse to feel loved or to feel anything at all.  You had me so blind that I thought I was doing something cool and special.  You told me that pleasing my abusers would make me worthy of love. When all I was doing was giving my abusers exactly what they wanted, and you stood there laughing at me the whole time.  I had no idea that this was laying a foundation of addiction in my life.  I didn’t even realize how wrong all this abuse was until I was in high school.  I thought everyone’s family was like this.  That sex was just a normal way for teenagers to show love and attention to the younger children around them.  I never had a chance to be a kid and develop normal boundaries taught to me by supportive parents.  My parents were lost themselves; how could they ever help me be something them themselves didn’t understand. 

Then I grew up to just turn into my abusers.  Except my victims were adult broken women with daddy issues.  I understood their brokenness well and became very good at manipulating them to pursue me for the abuse, the same way my abusers manipulated me to pursue them night after night.  I was addicted to the power I wielded over them.  I made some of them get on their knees and worship me like I was their god.  That was you in me, I felt it all the time while having sex with these women.  I was a control junkie and loved to make them do things they would never do otherwise.  I became a master manipulator just like you taught me.  I had no idea how to even talk to a woman without laying some foundation of seduction.  I was completely out of control, and you were steering the truck right over the cliff!  I hate you for all that!  I suffered for decades under enormous guilt, shame, and depression because of the things I did while under your control.  I didn’t even identify as a sex addict till I was almost 40 years old. All those years you stole from me…  The best years of my physical life! 

I even preached your gospel of sexual freedom and open mindedness to my daughters which caused unmeasurable pain in their lives.  You promised me validation and acceptance, but only brought me death and decay.  Through your lies, scales grew over my eyes so that I was blind to see the effects of my living on those around me.  You tainted every female I touched with your poisonous doctrine of pleasure.  I controlled them with promises of intimacy and connection when I myself was paralyzed to feel any emotion other than pleasure.  And when I was done with them, I threw them away like the weekly trash.  You ruined my reputation for years and I was blind to it all.  You stole my ability to see right and wrong correctly. 

I gave up so much at the alter of your religion of pleasure.  It cost me 3 marriages, and relationship after relationship.  It made me a horrible boyfriend, husband, father, and friend.  You force fed me shame by the truck loads, and you robbed me of any peace or harmony in my life.  I can’t begin to count the holidays I spent alone because of the destruction you caused in my family.  Yet I chased your empty promises of contentment over and over.  You told me, “all you need is more intensity, more connections with loose women, weighed down by various lusts…”  Every one of those toxic women took a bite out of me until there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man, limping through life like a heroin addict looking for his next fix.  Nothing satisfied, and nothing made your voice of accusations go away.  After decades of torment, you finally broke me down to nothing.  I had a complete mental breakdown and hit rock bottom. 

Even after starting down the road to my recovery, the biggest struggle for years was to not feel like a complete loser with no track record of good.  It’s hard to feel like I have any self-worth looking back at all I’ve done to the ones I loved.  I’ve lived my worst nightmare over and over alone and without anyone to love me.  All I ever wanted was to be with someone that would love me in spite of my junk and not abandon me.  I’ve never had that in my life.  And anytime someone would want to even try and love me, I wouldn’t let them, and would push them away.  As a result of that, I'd end up feeling like I don’t know why people won’t love me back???  It’s insanity in its purest form, based out of your hellish confusion and chaotic tactics to control me.

I HATE YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU DID TO ME!  For the person you made me into.  For the pain and sorrow, you’ve caused me for decades!!!  For making me into someone that would hurt those I loved most.  For all the anger you gave birth to in my life.  For the countless nights I laid wishing for death without the courage to kill myself.  It took half my life to even be able to see clearly enough that I could finally choose to be something different than who you told me I was.  You are a liar and a thief!  A heartless demon from the lowest pits of hell.  I have to live with the shame of my decisions and choices I made while under your control.

Well, NO MORE!!  I have spent the last ten years trying to make amends for all the harm I’ve done to my family, friends, and myself.  The deeper I dig, the more I find, but I am now learning to love myself for the first time in my life and refuse to give you one more ounce of who I am.  From this point forward, I will know my self worth and respect myself for the goodness of God that now shines through me.  You will no longer make decisions for me or dictate my life.  I will seek God's holiness, and when I fall, refuse to believe your accusations and lies of defeat.  NO MORE SATAN!!  Your grip over me is canceled and broken by the blood of Jesus Christ!  I AM FREE!  I am free to choose love over lust, and to choose emotional intimacy over sex.  I choose to believe that I am enough!  That I am a good person with a lot to give this dark world of death and decay.  I will proclaim my freedom to anyone and everyone around me.  I will wage war against sex addiction on every front.  There will be no corner you can hide in that I won’t find you and send you back to hell where you came from. You have no power over me anymore, and you will be defeated by the power of the Holy Spirit!!! 

God, I pray you strengthen me and break me free of this spirit of addiction in every form and fashion.  I pray you continue to open my eyes to truth and establish me as your devout and faithful servant.  Thank you, Lord for never giving up on me.  For calling out to me while I was lost in the dark carnival of my addiction.  For reaching for me even when I was trying to walk away from you. For loving me when I couldn’t even love myself.  Your grace and mercy have saved me a million times over.  Thank you, Lord, thank you so very much!!!  I look forward to the day I enter heaven and can look you in the eye, free of shame, and tell you all about the victory’s I had on earth because of your great love for me.  I am the righteousness of God through Christ Jesus.  To God, and God alone, be all the glory forever and ever, amen. 

Lagniappe

Recommended Viewing

Poem by Anonymous

I am undone by this feeling that has overwhelmed me

My heart chases the darkness in hopes of finding a hiding place

My mind is interrupted by my flesh which seeks to sabotage

This foreign desert land that has engulfed me leaves me thirsty

My vision is limited by a dense fog and a fear of what I can’t see

I hear the voices assaulting me with unforgiving tones. 

The ground beneath my feet shakes as my balance gives way to the uncertainty of my life.

I feel chained to my past, a cage that keeps me locked inside.

Why won’t this undertone of depression remove its claws from my flesh?