Weekly meetings available to you are as follows:

Tuesdays at 6:00 PM, Foundry Church - 3010 Lakeland Cove, Flowood. Call Matt Flint at (601) 260-8518 or email him at matthewflint.makes@gmail.com or Lance Bowser at (601) 862-8308 or email at lancebowser@msi-inv.com.

Wednesday at 6:00 PM, First Baptist Church Jackson - Summit Counseling Suite - 431 North State St. Jackson. Call Don Waller at 601-946-1290 or email him at don@wallerbros.com.

Monday at 6:30 PM , Vertical Church - 521 Gluckstadt Road Madison, MS 39110. Mr. Roane Hunter, facilitator, LifeWorks Counseling.

Sunday night at 6:00 PM, Grace Crossing Baptist Church - 598 Yandell Rd. Canton. Call Ryan Adams at 662-571-5705 or email him at ryan.adams1747@gmail.com.


Tuesday, February 14, 2023

"To All My Single People On Valentine’s Day" - JR Everhart

Forget your diet today and go treat yourself to the meal you’ve been craving.  Go visit family and friends.  Celebrate in the fact that even though every couple on Facebook is sending each other love on this day, Facebook is not real life.  When they are fighting the other 364 days of the year, us single people are at peace and never need anyone’s permission to do anything.  We are free!  We can sleep the day away, or go conquer the world.  It’s ours to have.  For every holiday that tries to make us feel less than worthy of love, we have harmony in our lives and zero drama.  We are worthy of love, SELF LOVE!  So, look in the mirror today, and love that person looking back at you!  Being single is not a bad thing [1 Corinthians 7 - ed], it’s just where we find ourselves at this stage of life.  

Wholeness is found within, not from the “missing piece” of us as a puzzle.  You have all the resources at your fingertips to be whole.  You just have to be brave enough to take possession of it.  We are loved, and we are worthy of joy and happiness on our own.  Some of us spent too many years trapped inside of toxic relationships, and in so doing, felt alone besides.  Celebrate your freedom from all that dysfunction on this day.  Dream of the possibilities in life that are now waiting on you.  Be proud of the battles you’ve seen victory in and the trauma you’ve endured.  Don’t dare feel bad looking at all the “happy” couples in your feed [Valentine's Day may be a great day to delete your social media account - ed].  Stand tall with your head up proud.  You are that person right now.  You are enough, you are worthy of love, and you are the hero of your story.  Live life out loud! ๐Ÿ™Œ๐Ÿป #worthyoflove #ProudAndFree #livingmybestlife

Sunday, February 12, 2023

Was I Making A Selfish, Irresponsible Move Or Not?

Your grown ass man brain is best served by a consciousness that practically protects it from emotional harm.  You have a God-given skull to protect it from impact / falls, but emotional harm, your skull cannot guard against.  Instead, it's up to your consciousness to recognize that risk and manage it accordingly (to the best of its ability / within reason).

My experience with feeling dejected by a mentor (immediate supervisor of mine at a college I was employed at throughout 2013) did SUBSTANTIAL emotional damage to my brain.  I had never experienced anything like that before, at least to that degree.  And this experience, mind you, wasn't drawn out / within a season.  Instead, it occurred over a period of 15 minutes.  It's important to note that my sensitivity was significantly amplified due to how needy I was at the time.  Desperate for help, inclusion and love, but instead, I was met with the exact opposite.  It was not unlike taking a sledgehammer to the temple.

As such, I made an immediate attempt to minimize further damage (professionally, emotionally).  Hence, I was convinced that the best way for me to pull that off was to pack up my bags and leave.  And not just from the institution itself (which was quite easy to do since I'd been fired), but also from the small town we were residing within (in order for me to work there).  All of that occurred over the next +/-30 days.

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For me, the surefire way I became cognizant of just how eviscerated my brain had been was as follows:

I've always loved, loved, loved screening films at the theater (from childhood onward).  Post aforementioned dejection (I was 41 at the time), I could no longer do this without crying throughout the entire length of the film.  And those tears were falling on behalf of how undeserving / unequipped / unable I believed I was to have an enjoyable experience of any kind (but especially one as nostalgically reliable as a cinematic one).

In essence, it felt as if this time-tested memorable love of mine had been poisoned outright via these massively negative feelings.  And I suppose, in a way it was.  It took 5-6 years 'till I actually felt confident enough to screen a film in a theater setting once again.

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A sizeable proportion of your vulnerability to feelings of dejection is wholly linked to the degree of respect you have for that other human being.  Whether that's your employer, friend, spouse, sibling, parent.  Have a massive amount of respect for an individual?  Be aware of how that will expose your heart to their critiques - both positive and negative.

Whilst saying all of this, please don't in anyway discount your own inner critic.  I'm referring to that voice inside your own head that's adjudicating in real time, most every move you make.

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Back in June of  '20, my wife was in a rehab hospital (in Jackson) having had a stroke a few weeks prior.  Too (at this time), the pandemic was in full swing, therefore most everyone had shifted their mentality relative to physical contact with other human beings.  And lo and behold, a prospective (sizeable) business client came into focus (referral) - literally overnight -, and I reacted reflexively therein (in kind).  

The prospective client though was far, far away from the Jackson Metro.  Farther than any client I was then working with.  

Nonetheless, I made the trip, and in the end, they agreed to work with me and the solution I proposed for their business.  In fact, it literally was a picture-perfect (climate / cultural) fit.  And this client has not wavered in their loyalty to Rob since that first juncture.

Taking all of that into consideration, because of how absolutely torn I felt whilst making that first trip in June of 2020, I dread making the annual return trip (which I'll soon be doing).  For I remember clearly how doggedly my thoughts punished me for choosing to "leave my wife's side" (if only for a few days) during her "time of need".  Was I making a selfish, irresponsible move or not?  

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Yesterday evening, my middle daughter and I attended a banquet at the college she'll be attending this fall (as a freshman).  The banquet was held within a ballroom that I was asked to make a short presentation within back in 2011 whilst working as a Staff Architect for the State of Mississippi.  I remember what I chose to wear for that event as well a handful of the distinguished alums' reactions whilst speaking (me attempting to make eye contact with my audience).  I also remember my face heating up in shame as I spoke, and me wondering if anyone noticed my blushing.  

I remember sitting down after my few minutes of having the floor and berating myself internally for what I considered to be a completely worthless effort.  Wishing all the while that I was someone else entirely, both regarding my looks and how I sounded / presented myself.

Yet last night, once again, here I was within that exact same space all these years later.  Celebrating my daughter's achievements alongside hundreds of other parents.  Working to respectfully set in motion via my physical presence, her soon-to-be collegiate career.

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Angie (my wife) and I grew up together (we were friends within the youth group) at First Baptist Church Jackson.  She was one year (class) ahead of me, but nonetheless, we were both outcasts that gravitated towards each other platonically in kind.

When she went to Baylor after graduating from high school (Jackson Academy), two of our youth group classmates (within my class) joined her a year later out in Waco.  One of these young men, soon after his freshman year whilst being a student there, somehow remarkably - reinvented himself entirely.  

This reinvention occurred within the vein of him becoming absolutely zero effeminate acting / sounding.  Whilst making these mods, he also shed his southern drawl entirely.  This resulted in an exceedingly red-blooded, "all boy" / "man's man" kind of guy (which he most definitely was NOT during middle / high school) that coherently existed going forward.

I believe it's important to note that after his time at Baylor, he began working as a sociologist prior to becoming a (quite successful) published author, and then onto being appointed (at a remarkably young age) a University President.  Having heard him speak / preach from the pulpit (within the last decade) at FBC Jackson, it's astounding the level of masculine confidence that now radiates therein.  

It's literally as if Dr. Armitage from the film, Get Out, worked his neurosurgical magic (but on a white man), and I'm serious as a heart attack whilst saying that.

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In light of me choosing to not reinvent myself entirely (immediately following the aforementioned job loss), I can say that heading away from the pain (and those inflicting it) was a very smart move.  Considering those pragmatics, there was also a lot to be gained from not running too terribly far away (we returned to Jackson from the Mississippi Delta).  

I'll also leave you with this.  There's a lot that can be gained by re-living the past via future experiences.  Taking those settings / circumstances even, into account within that recognized present (where you're at today versus back then).  It presents a new perspective that can work opportunistically to re-frame the past.  That being said, we must permit that re-framing to happen.  And that can be awfully hard to do when we're still wrestling with unsettled feelings from the past.  

Was I making a selfish, irresponsible move or not? 

Recommended Reading

America has gone too far in legalizing gambling and marijuana - The Atlantic

Tuesday, February 7, 2023

"Preschool Life" - JR Everhart

Last year, I was at a club supporting a band I used to mix pretty regularly.  Being a Christian inside of the secular music scene is problematic, but outside of my trailer park mouth (cussing), I do pretty good with all the chaos associated with the environment.  During the band break, one of the band members came up to me very drunk and started telling me how there were so many women in the club that wanted to give him sexual favors that "it makes my world look like preschool".  I laughed it off; it’s not the first time I’ve had some drunk insult me in such a way.  As such, I’m pretty numb to it all.  Saying something stupid and rude like that just goes with the territory of the club scene.  Chances are he probably didn’t even remember it the next day.  It’s the world I live in, being the only sober guy in the room most of the time.  I don’t usually stay long when things are that crazy.  But my business is all about networking, so it is what it is. 

His statement did make me stop and think about "my little preschool world".  I remember being that guy on stage - drunk and the center of attention.  I’ve had more sex with more women than any two men I know, my drunk friend included.  Lol.  But I willingly walked away from that life to seek sanity.  I gave so much of myself to all the women around me that I got lost.  I had compromised most of my core values and done things that still haunt me with guilt and shame to this day.  I didn’t like the guy in the mirror anymore.  Hell, I didn’t even know the guy in the mirror!  My life was driven by the next sexual high, and I chased it with everything in me.  It was my alter that I worshipped at daily.  I had no peace or harmony in my life; it was all about the chase.  The ritual of it all. 
Nothing got my motor running more than being able to manipulate a woman into my power.  Control her and enslave her to my will.  I’d play games with them, and make them do all sorts of foul and evil things to prove their devotion to me.  I was the worst of the worst.  And I didn’t care if they were married to a buddy of mine or was a sweet innocent girl next door.  My goal was to conquer her and make her my own.  These things are demonic at their core.  I was an instrument of Satan's will, and the darker-things-got, the more satisfaction I got from it all.  But all this came with a very high price. 
I couldn't live this way without God's conviction knocking at my door every day.  Even in my darkest times, I could still hear Jesus calling my name.  The amount of energy it takes to ignore his voice is exhausting.  I hated who I was and wished for death daily.  I was entirely lost with no will to change.  It took a complete mental breakdown for me to reach the bottom that would become the foundation of my recovery.  This process of change was very hard to walk out, and it took months to get up on my sober legs in any kind of measurable way.  So, as I stood there in that club watching my friend live out a life I once knew, I had no shame and took no offense to his insult.  I’ve worked hard to have my peaceful little preschool life.  At least I was single when I was in the darkest days of my addiction.  This compadre is married with a son that worships him.  And so, the sins of the father will probably fall on the shoulders of the son.  It’s such a vicious cycle… God help us all…

Sunday, February 5, 2023

Thanks Silas 2.0 (& 1.0)!

I learned firsthand from Silas 2.0 how critical it is for me to connect (relational accountability) with men who're like me but who also embody portions of my ideal (masculine archetype).

Here are some specifics:

Silas 2.0 embodied a small-town Mississippi vernacular.  Being reared therein, his thick southern drawl readily confirmed his upbringing.  My roots are somewhat similar, having all my people within the Mississippi Delta town of Belzoni (in spite of the fact that I primarily grew up in the suburbs of Jackson).  And for the record, all of these men sound(ed) like Barney Fife when they speak.

Silas 2.0 dedicated himself to physical fitness in order to maximize his sex appeal.  This is by no means the norm for Mississippi men.  Most are only involved in fitness regimens (if at all) in order to combat their many other unhealthy habits (drinking, overeating, sedentary lifestyle).  This was not the case for Silas 2.0.  His secondary / collegiate sports experience laid the groundwork relative to his dedication to fitness (as well as his good looks), but unlike so many Mississippi men, it no doubt carried forward into adulthood.  I would be shocked to ever see Silas 2.0 not in peak physical condition, whether he's in his early 40s, 50s & beyond.

I too am dedicated to fitness for vanity's sake.  Though I wasn't athletic in school, I came to quickly appreciate how it could substantially improve my appearance once I dove in (& established a clear-cut, longstanding routine in my mid-30s).

I've never grown a substantial, statement-making beard and no one (except my drug addicted uncle) within my family of men has either.  Silas 2.0 at times had a very short, cleanly trimmed beard, but for the most part, it wasn't there permanently.  A beard to me is like a partial mask, and I don't like masks (on myself or others).

Silas 2.0 spoke deeply with a baritone timbre that was impossible to miss.  What a dominating voice he had!  Because he was as chatty as he was, I always had the pleasure of listening to lots of it (in spite of my ears bleeding at times).  

My voice is very unique.  I've grown to like its uniqueness (standout), but I much prefer listening to baritone voices like Silas 2.0 had.  In fact, they're one of my most favorite things in this life.

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As you progress through your recovery, you're going to have the opportunity to learn an awful lot about yourself, how influenced you can / cannot be & why via your relationship with your Silas(es).  Over time, that knowledge - inevitably - is going to impact / optimize your choice(s) for future Silases (both consciously and unconsciously).

Silas 1.0, for Rob, was all about me learning how to recover alongside a Silas (process).  But he and I were quite different overall.  So much so that it didn't take long for me to realize that we'd eventually grow apart (which we most certainly did) no matter how much we invested in each other.

I still have a lovely photo of Silas 1.0 and I (from 2016) next to my monitor on my desk at work.  It serves as a reminder of the importance of that very first Samson Society Silas relationship and how groundbreaking it was.  

As a sidenote, I have zero remaining photos of Silas 2.0.  Instead, my focus has now turned to men who're currently supporting me in kind.  In so many ways, it's through images of these that I can best look back and see Silas 2.0 and all the goodness our relationship represents to me both then and now.  

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In closing, there's one other ideal / attribute for Rob that's manifested itself fairly consistently within my Silas relationships, and that is pursuit.  As strange as it may sound, I've never had to ask a Samson guy to be my Silas.  Instead, he's (these aforementioned Samson men) in essence pursued me.  In fact, Silas 2.0 was bold enough to actually ask me "Do you have a Silas?" out of concern.   

How has this pursuit manifested itself?  

Through service (towards these men).  Lots and lots of service.  That combined with intuition helps tremendously. 

What goes around comes around.  This is moreso true within Samson Society than within any other ministry I've ever been a part of.  

Recommended Reading

Why friendships are worse now | Fortune

Friday, February 3, 2023

Here's Your Link for Saturday's (2/4) Samson Meeting Host Training