When I was around 4 years old, my parents and I lived in an apartment complex in Jackson. In the center of the complex was a swingset, slide, etc. for the children. One day, I found myself playing with two girls who were about my age. I believe they were sisters, and despite the fact that they'd arrived at the playground after I had, they weren't deterred from eventually pushing me off the swings in order to make room for themselves. To me it said, you're of no value, therefore we're removing you from your allotted position despite the fact that we had initially chosen to accept you.
As a result, my then 22-year old mother vindicated me by chewing the ass of their mother and father at their own apartment door. I remember my father standing in the background and me grinning victoriously as they experienced the wrath of Darlene.
This picture of vengeance is in alignment with Biblical truth, but in terms of day to day life, it's not nearly as clear cut / immediate.
Everyone wants justice. We long for it. What we don't want is owning the portion of our identity as Christians that pains us. That being the propensity for consistent rejection.
Rejection is one of the easiest and most sinfully gratifying choices we take part in. It's a power move ultimately, and that's where the gratification part comes in. It says "FUCK YOU!" or "GO TO HELL!"
What's difficult if not impossible for us as western Christians to comprehend though is how expectant we should be to experience it due to the fact that our beliefs truly are offensive to a pagan world.
I would argue that we're likely not truly living out our faith - to the nth degree - in and throughout our lives unless we're finding ourselves regularly being pushed off the swings.
May God increase our faith and comfort us relative to the world's rejection, and may we choose to not behave similarly, no matter how tempted we may be to make such an immature move.
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 Joe McCalman at 769-567-6195 or email him at cookandnoonie@gmail.com.
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Overcoming The Fear of Experiencing Heartache From Unexpected Loss
I've seen numerous relationships either end abruptly or slowly die, and these, of course, fall into the friendship category. That's life. Rarely, if ever, do friendships last very long. Especially if there's no reoccurring theme that they're built around (Bible study, support group like Samson, etc.).
I remember vividly experiencing my first friendship dissolution in the 5th grade. It was so unexpected and hard (seemingly much moreso to me). My friend (who was like a brother) had been close to me since 3rd grade, even to the point of walking to school with me each day. Then he moved away. I worked through a number of other friends after that, but none panned out quite like the first.
You'll recall here where I recounted some of my experiences with mentoring. Of course, mentoring is a form of friendship. It all falls into the same category. These type relationships are difficult enough to kickstart, much less cultivate long-term.
The truth is, it is our lack of formal connection that protects our hearts here. We may use the term "brother" but it's an implied moniker that's based in either men's mutual faith in God or simply the sense that two men could be related genetically, therefore they draw each other in that much further with the term.
-------------------------
I have 3 daughters. Their ages are 16, 14, and 8. I remember vividly being a new father, especially from the standpoint of dealing with the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. I was working two jobs in order for my wife to stay home with our new baby, all the while medicating my loneliness (& aforementioned exhaustion) with my newfangled discovery of Internet porn. Our first child was a very difficult baby to handle. She didn't sleep through the night 'till she was close to one year old, and her cry wasn't so much an audible reminder of discomfort or need as a shriek that implied intense suffering and pain. And this came no matter her condition. For Caroline, she was either quiet or at level 10. One or the other.
Neither this firstborn nor her younger sister were ever truly allowed into Rob's heart. I was too afraid to risk the emotional aftermath of potentially losing them. In other words, I treated them - as if it was in response to - having already lost a child, though that's (thank God) never occurred.
Cowardly, I know.
Thankfully, daughter three is an altogether different story.
This child was unexpected. Great sex and a fertile wife (unbeknownst to either of us) brought about Laura, therefore in many ways, Laura is a special child, and from the beginning, I let my heart's guard down. This proves that I can do this, and yes, henceforth, I do treat daughter 3 differently.
So...what to do about daughters one and two and the emotional arms-length I've kept them at over the course of their lives?
Angie has challenged me to move in. She's challenged me to shut up and listen more. To stop solving their problems and instead, simply making myself available to listen to their problems.
This is likely the biggest challenge I've ever received within my life because I'm their dad. I'm not supposed to listen. My purpose is to solve their problems.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [That was a scream.]
Please pray for me to take the necessary risks to win my older 2 daughters' hearts. I know this is important due to the fact that they only have one dad (me).
I remember vividly experiencing my first friendship dissolution in the 5th grade. It was so unexpected and hard (seemingly much moreso to me). My friend (who was like a brother) had been close to me since 3rd grade, even to the point of walking to school with me each day. Then he moved away. I worked through a number of other friends after that, but none panned out quite like the first.
You'll recall here where I recounted some of my experiences with mentoring. Of course, mentoring is a form of friendship. It all falls into the same category. These type relationships are difficult enough to kickstart, much less cultivate long-term.
The truth is, it is our lack of formal connection that protects our hearts here. We may use the term "brother" but it's an implied moniker that's based in either men's mutual faith in God or simply the sense that two men could be related genetically, therefore they draw each other in that much further with the term.
-------------------------
I have 3 daughters. Their ages are 16, 14, and 8. I remember vividly being a new father, especially from the standpoint of dealing with the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. I was working two jobs in order for my wife to stay home with our new baby, all the while medicating my loneliness (& aforementioned exhaustion) with my newfangled discovery of Internet porn. Our first child was a very difficult baby to handle. She didn't sleep through the night 'till she was close to one year old, and her cry wasn't so much an audible reminder of discomfort or need as a shriek that implied intense suffering and pain. And this came no matter her condition. For Caroline, she was either quiet or at level 10. One or the other.
Neither this firstborn nor her younger sister were ever truly allowed into Rob's heart. I was too afraid to risk the emotional aftermath of potentially losing them. In other words, I treated them - as if it was in response to - having already lost a child, though that's (thank God) never occurred.
Cowardly, I know.
Thankfully, daughter three is an altogether different story.
This child was unexpected. Great sex and a fertile wife (unbeknownst to either of us) brought about Laura, therefore in many ways, Laura is a special child, and from the beginning, I let my heart's guard down. This proves that I can do this, and yes, henceforth, I do treat daughter 3 differently.
So...what to do about daughters one and two and the emotional arms-length I've kept them at over the course of their lives?
Angie has challenged me to move in. She's challenged me to shut up and listen more. To stop solving their problems and instead, simply making myself available to listen to their problems.
This is likely the biggest challenge I've ever received within my life because I'm their dad. I'm not supposed to listen. My purpose is to solve their problems.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [That was a scream.]
Please pray for me to take the necessary risks to win my older 2 daughters' hearts. I know this is important due to the fact that they only have one dad (me).
Monday, June 17, 2019
Dreaded Turbulence
No one buys an airline ticket hoping to experience turbulence. In fact, were there an "upgrade ticket" that was available which guaranteed zero turbulence in flight, it would likely be a 100% take.
We dread experiencing turbulence because we associate it with a doomed flight, therefore the less turbulence, the better. Thank you very much.
It's no different than considering our inevitable death. Everyone wishes to die in their sleep. No one wants to experience the fear and panic that comes with a terminal illness.
But, what our minds don't default to whilst experiencing turbulence is that most every flight experiences it and survives it just fine. In fact, airplanes are engineered to succeed despite turbulence. Plus, pilots are trained to fly within turbulence. It's not like they're inexperienced in this regard. These men and women fly a lot of miles every year. Hence, they experience a sizable amount of turbulent conditions, yet they manage to safely complete the flight path time and time again.
-------------------------
My sweet wife, Angie, attended Baylor University in Waco, Texas back in the early '90s. She tells me that she would usually fly home (to Jackson, MS) for Thanksgiving in order to take full advantage of a short holiday. One year, her entire flight was violently turbulent. So much so in fact that the pilot chose to land in Memphis, TN in lieu of Jackson. She describes the flight as somber and anxious. Few passengers spoke. Many prayed. As a college student, Angie was particularly terrified due to her youth / inexperience as a passenger.
All throughout the flight, she consistently regretted not choosing to drive home instead.
-------------------------
I was 40 when I experienced the most violent emotional / spiritual turbulence of my life. I had experienced some turbulence in the form of feelings of hopelessness / misdirection before, but never had I had people I respected / loved demonize me and my family as they were now doing. Yes, I'd experienced the ramifications of being generally disliked by those around me, and that had been tough. But it in no way compared to this.
Subsequently, I lost my bearings. I compare it to being thrown off an emotional cliff whilst asking all the while "Why is this happening to me? and What did I do to deserve this?"
Can you imagine leaving your seat during a turbulent flight, stumbling to the front of the plane and berating the pilots stupidly with these two questions?
All during the emotional fallout related to how I was treated, I prayed fervently that my daughters would never live to experience such horrific pain.
And then over time, by God's grace, I was clear of the turbulence. I certainly could remember it, but overall, I found myself intact and absolutely cognizant of what life was now like / had been like during smooth, uneventful seasons. This proved to me that God is immensely good at healing trauma / seeing Christians through turbulent times. I cannot even begin to count the number of times I've now left my seat, traipsed to the front of the plane and thanked my pilots (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) for a job well done.
I also now trust these three with my girls' individual flights, much moreso than I ever did prior.
Life is so hard. There's so much that's not in our control. Expect dreaded turbulence, but don't lose hope. That's exactly what our mutual enemy, Satan, is banking on, therefore refuse to fall for it.
Lagniappe
We dread experiencing turbulence because we associate it with a doomed flight, therefore the less turbulence, the better. Thank you very much.
It's no different than considering our inevitable death. Everyone wishes to die in their sleep. No one wants to experience the fear and panic that comes with a terminal illness.
But, what our minds don't default to whilst experiencing turbulence is that most every flight experiences it and survives it just fine. In fact, airplanes are engineered to succeed despite turbulence. Plus, pilots are trained to fly within turbulence. It's not like they're inexperienced in this regard. These men and women fly a lot of miles every year. Hence, they experience a sizable amount of turbulent conditions, yet they manage to safely complete the flight path time and time again.
-------------------------
My sweet wife, Angie, attended Baylor University in Waco, Texas back in the early '90s. She tells me that she would usually fly home (to Jackson, MS) for Thanksgiving in order to take full advantage of a short holiday. One year, her entire flight was violently turbulent. So much so in fact that the pilot chose to land in Memphis, TN in lieu of Jackson. She describes the flight as somber and anxious. Few passengers spoke. Many prayed. As a college student, Angie was particularly terrified due to her youth / inexperience as a passenger.
All throughout the flight, she consistently regretted not choosing to drive home instead.
-------------------------
I was 40 when I experienced the most violent emotional / spiritual turbulence of my life. I had experienced some turbulence in the form of feelings of hopelessness / misdirection before, but never had I had people I respected / loved demonize me and my family as they were now doing. Yes, I'd experienced the ramifications of being generally disliked by those around me, and that had been tough. But it in no way compared to this.
Subsequently, I lost my bearings. I compare it to being thrown off an emotional cliff whilst asking all the while "Why is this happening to me? and What did I do to deserve this?"
Can you imagine leaving your seat during a turbulent flight, stumbling to the front of the plane and berating the pilots stupidly with these two questions?
All during the emotional fallout related to how I was treated, I prayed fervently that my daughters would never live to experience such horrific pain.
And then over time, by God's grace, I was clear of the turbulence. I certainly could remember it, but overall, I found myself intact and absolutely cognizant of what life was now like / had been like during smooth, uneventful seasons. This proved to me that God is immensely good at healing trauma / seeing Christians through turbulent times. I cannot even begin to count the number of times I've now left my seat, traipsed to the front of the plane and thanked my pilots (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) for a job well done.
I also now trust these three with my girls' individual flights, much moreso than I ever did prior.
Life is so hard. There's so much that's not in our control. Expect dreaded turbulence, but don't lose hope. That's exactly what our mutual enemy, Satan, is banking on, therefore refuse to fall for it.
Lagniappe
Saturday, June 15, 2019
Powerlessness Against The Threat of Interdependence
Interdependence: mutually reliant on each other
My lawn maintenance man quit today. This was his second season to maintain the Turner patio home yard for $40 a cut, edge, blow. He even cleaned out my gutters this past winter. What an awesome lawn maintenance man he was! I'd always try to message him afterwards, letting him know how pleased I was with his work. Sometimes in the summer, he'd bring his sons (which he did today), and they'd work alongside him. This man was a professional who "cut yards on the side". I've known of him for many years.
Unfortunately, he damaged the finish on my home with his string trimmer late winter whilst manicuring my liriope. The repair for this work wasn't cheap, and I asked that he pay 1/2.
His rationale for quitting was that working for me was too stressful due to my expectations. He also cited that he knows my parents, and their standards would also be too high for him to work under.
So...he's going to continue to work for my neighbors (one of which recommended him), and now I'm left to find a new lawn maintenance man.
How delightfully awkward it will be to pass by his work truck and trailer in two weeks as he's maintaining my neighbors' yards and ignoring my own! There's a part of me that wants to simply not have our yard maintained anymore during this growing season, but I really cannot do that because...
-------------------------
Years ago, I served as President of the Homeowners' Association in our 'hood. Our patio home development was brought to fruition in two phases, and at the very back, there was a "gap" (for lack of a better word) in sidewalk that existed where one of the streets crossed over a gas pipeline ROW. The contractor who was working on spec homes adjacent to the sidewalk gap also constructed a home on our cul-de-sac years prior (one of our neighbors). Therefore, I decided to kindly ask him to consider completing that sidewalk gap when he poured the sidewalks for his spec homes.
Not only did he not acknowledge my request for assistance (letter), but he chose to ignore the gap. 6 months or so into the future, he attended a party at my neighbor's home (which again, he'd constructed), and interestingly enough, he chose to park his contractor truck far up our street in lieu of in front of the Turner abode.
It was then that I realized what a threat any relationship with the Homeowners' Association President seemingly posed to him.
-------------------------
Relationships are like higher education. To obtain a degree, years and years of college classes must be accomplished, and each of those classes make up a curriculum that aligns with your chosen degree. Therefore, the more classes you complete within that curriculum, the more you experience their interdependence as it relates to your degree field. Eventually, you're so far into this process that the classes you're finding yourself taking are relatable only to that specific degree. Hence, walking away at that point would result in a sizable loss of time and energy since those classes aren't applicable to an alternative degree field.
-------------------------
At the start of the work week, my mother chewed my ass out over a "bee in her bonnet" (her words). This was literally at the beginning of the workday on Monday. I became enraged at both her choice of words as well as her timing, therefore I knew it to be best to hole up in my office for the remainder of the day. The bee was her frustration at feeling powerless over me as the father of her grandchildren and the husband of her daughter in-law. Powerless to the point of lashing out versus dialoguing with me like a mature, 65-year old adult.
That evening, my wife paid an unexpected visit to my 'rents' home and dialogued (Angie's too sweet & smart to ass chew) with them about our beloved, 23-yearlong marriage hierarchy (complementarian).
I love my wife. Our marriage is the epitome of interdependence. This is why she's my bestest female friend.
-------------------------
Ever since I was a teenager, my father has taken me saltwater fishing off the Louisiana coast. We do this with various fishing guides, therefore all we have to do is show up with an ice chest and plenty of sunscreen. The guide provides the boat, tackle, and expertise needed to locate the speckled trout / redfish throughout the day.
When I was in my mid-twenties, a friend of my dad's came along with us. This man was a CPA, though he could have easily been a professional storyteller. During the entire 30 - 45 minute boat ride (50+ mph) out to our fishing destination across the water, Mark told me sad, frightening story after sad, frightening story of his experience working within a business partnership (with a fellow CPA) at the onset of his career. Eventually, he walked away from that setup, no longer wanting to take the risk, but unfortunately, he couldn't maintain the workload as a sole proprietor. Therefore due to stress-related medical issues, he had to sell his beloved accounting practice well in advance of retirement age (or demeanor).
-------------------------
I am no sex therapist nor am I attempting to qualify the following statements either within or outside of marriage:
I believe intercourse promotes the idea of emotional interdependence between a man and woman, and within that interdependence (to whatever degree), there comes the threat of losing control over your heart. I realize this is an extremely conceptual statement, but nonetheless, I feel compelled to include it.
Intercourse is an anatomical picture of pleasurable interdependence, but for the woman in particular, it's a highly emotional / physical yielding that presents high stakes relative to feelings of powerlessness down the road. Quantity of intercourse in proportion of threat of interdependence and subsequent powerlessness.
I realize this is vague. I apologize for that.
-------------------------
So why did I lose my lawn maintenance man today? For the same reason my dad's friend bought out his partners. The stakes tied to the relational interdependence were too high to maintain.
Why did I finish my 5 years of architecture school curriculum? For the same reason I'm still married to Angie. The interdependence I saw / see as an asset and not a liability.
Earlier in the week, I had lunch with a new friend. I felt compelled to share my story, and of course, it includes references to Samson Society. I followed up with him the next day via email, sharing a Desiring God blog post that I felt was awesome. To my chagrin, he replied with a request to be left alone. Why did he do that? I wonder if it had something to do with that god forsaken fear of powerlessness. That threat of losing total control due to the give and take and subsequent interdependence that's involved within any healthy, growing friendship(s).
I admire my friend for taking action early on to avoid any potential pain, but I must admit to being disappointed. He seemed like an ideal candidate for Samson.
Perhaps he'll be willing to take the risk at some point in the future.
Relationships are wonderfully complex. I pray that God oversees each that I have the privilege to be a part of (for however long). Without them, I typically find myself headed towards self-destruction.
My lawn maintenance man quit today. This was his second season to maintain the Turner patio home yard for $40 a cut, edge, blow. He even cleaned out my gutters this past winter. What an awesome lawn maintenance man he was! I'd always try to message him afterwards, letting him know how pleased I was with his work. Sometimes in the summer, he'd bring his sons (which he did today), and they'd work alongside him. This man was a professional who "cut yards on the side". I've known of him for many years.
Unfortunately, he damaged the finish on my home with his string trimmer late winter whilst manicuring my liriope. The repair for this work wasn't cheap, and I asked that he pay 1/2.
His rationale for quitting was that working for me was too stressful due to my expectations. He also cited that he knows my parents, and their standards would also be too high for him to work under.
So...he's going to continue to work for my neighbors (one of which recommended him), and now I'm left to find a new lawn maintenance man.
How delightfully awkward it will be to pass by his work truck and trailer in two weeks as he's maintaining my neighbors' yards and ignoring my own! There's a part of me that wants to simply not have our yard maintained anymore during this growing season, but I really cannot do that because...
-------------------------
Years ago, I served as President of the Homeowners' Association in our 'hood. Our patio home development was brought to fruition in two phases, and at the very back, there was a "gap" (for lack of a better word) in sidewalk that existed where one of the streets crossed over a gas pipeline ROW. The contractor who was working on spec homes adjacent to the sidewalk gap also constructed a home on our cul-de-sac years prior (one of our neighbors). Therefore, I decided to kindly ask him to consider completing that sidewalk gap when he poured the sidewalks for his spec homes.
Not only did he not acknowledge my request for assistance (letter), but he chose to ignore the gap. 6 months or so into the future, he attended a party at my neighbor's home (which again, he'd constructed), and interestingly enough, he chose to park his contractor truck far up our street in lieu of in front of the Turner abode.
It was then that I realized what a threat any relationship with the Homeowners' Association President seemingly posed to him.
-------------------------
Relationships are like higher education. To obtain a degree, years and years of college classes must be accomplished, and each of those classes make up a curriculum that aligns with your chosen degree. Therefore, the more classes you complete within that curriculum, the more you experience their interdependence as it relates to your degree field. Eventually, you're so far into this process that the classes you're finding yourself taking are relatable only to that specific degree. Hence, walking away at that point would result in a sizable loss of time and energy since those classes aren't applicable to an alternative degree field.
-------------------------
At the start of the work week, my mother chewed my ass out over a "bee in her bonnet" (her words). This was literally at the beginning of the workday on Monday. I became enraged at both her choice of words as well as her timing, therefore I knew it to be best to hole up in my office for the remainder of the day. The bee was her frustration at feeling powerless over me as the father of her grandchildren and the husband of her daughter in-law. Powerless to the point of lashing out versus dialoguing with me like a mature, 65-year old adult.
That evening, my wife paid an unexpected visit to my 'rents' home and dialogued (Angie's too sweet & smart to ass chew) with them about our beloved, 23-yearlong marriage hierarchy (complementarian).
I love my wife. Our marriage is the epitome of interdependence. This is why she's my bestest female friend.
-------------------------
Ever since I was a teenager, my father has taken me saltwater fishing off the Louisiana coast. We do this with various fishing guides, therefore all we have to do is show up with an ice chest and plenty of sunscreen. The guide provides the boat, tackle, and expertise needed to locate the speckled trout / redfish throughout the day.
When I was in my mid-twenties, a friend of my dad's came along with us. This man was a CPA, though he could have easily been a professional storyteller. During the entire 30 - 45 minute boat ride (50+ mph) out to our fishing destination across the water, Mark told me sad, frightening story after sad, frightening story of his experience working within a business partnership (with a fellow CPA) at the onset of his career. Eventually, he walked away from that setup, no longer wanting to take the risk, but unfortunately, he couldn't maintain the workload as a sole proprietor. Therefore due to stress-related medical issues, he had to sell his beloved accounting practice well in advance of retirement age (or demeanor).
-------------------------
I am no sex therapist nor am I attempting to qualify the following statements either within or outside of marriage:
I believe intercourse promotes the idea of emotional interdependence between a man and woman, and within that interdependence (to whatever degree), there comes the threat of losing control over your heart. I realize this is an extremely conceptual statement, but nonetheless, I feel compelled to include it.
Intercourse is an anatomical picture of pleasurable interdependence, but for the woman in particular, it's a highly emotional / physical yielding that presents high stakes relative to feelings of powerlessness down the road. Quantity of intercourse in proportion of threat of interdependence and subsequent powerlessness.
I realize this is vague. I apologize for that.
-------------------------
So why did I lose my lawn maintenance man today? For the same reason my dad's friend bought out his partners. The stakes tied to the relational interdependence were too high to maintain.
Why did I finish my 5 years of architecture school curriculum? For the same reason I'm still married to Angie. The interdependence I saw / see as an asset and not a liability.
Earlier in the week, I had lunch with a new friend. I felt compelled to share my story, and of course, it includes references to Samson Society. I followed up with him the next day via email, sharing a Desiring God blog post that I felt was awesome. To my chagrin, he replied with a request to be left alone. Why did he do that? I wonder if it had something to do with that god forsaken fear of powerlessness. That threat of losing total control due to the give and take and subsequent interdependence that's involved within any healthy, growing friendship(s).
I admire my friend for taking action early on to avoid any potential pain, but I must admit to being disappointed. He seemed like an ideal candidate for Samson.
Perhaps he'll be willing to take the risk at some point in the future.
Relationships are wonderfully complex. I pray that God oversees each that I have the privilege to be a part of (for however long). Without them, I typically find myself headed towards self-destruction.
Sunday, June 9, 2019
Big Brother: Asset or Liability. Mike's brother vs. Ben's
I'm an only child. Typical for Mississippi, my parents got pregnant with me whilst dating as teens and subsequently chose to get married. From there, they chose to not have any additional children, therefore the closest I had to siblings were my numerous cousins (all of which were boys).
This past week, I volunteered at Lakeside Presbyterian during Vacation Bible School. I've done this for several years now, and essentially, I serve year after year as the 5th grade guide. This means I lead the 5th graders from room to room, activity to activity each day. For example, last week our first stop was the craft room, from there we went to Bible Study, and so forth.
As a upper elementary student, due to the fact that I had no siblings, spending the night with other boys was really appealing to Rob. I'm sure this was similarly appealing to Bob & Darlene (my parents) due to the fact that I shadowed them closely (typical for an only child). At times, I'd seen my friends up close and personal entangle themselves both physically and emotionally with their older siblings during these sleepovers. This was no doubt awkward to witness, but for the most part, I instinctively stayed out of the line of fire.
On one occasion though, I remember being much more than uncomfortable. In fact, what I witnessed (& am about to describe) concretized my perception for some time of just how influential an older sibling could be - for better or for worse.
-------------------------
When I was in 6th grade (back in 1984 / 1985), I had the privilege of staying over one Friday evening with my new friend, Mike. Mike's parents were much older (& wealthier) than my own. Their home was sprawling (at least thrice the size of the Turner rancher), and subsequently, it was well suited to accommodate a family of 5 people versus 3. It featured beautiful finishes and soaring ceilings within the living spaces whilst situated on an exquisitely manicured lot amongst very mature landscaping.
Mike's parents had a master bedroom suite that contained a massive bathroom (with a bidet) and separate den. This is where we ended up hanging out, watching TV 'till we were sent to his room to turn in. I can still remember the wood paneled walls and thick carpeting. It was perfect for us two innocent (almost) middle schoolers. Super fun times.
Mike was overweight. Not by much, but enough for everyone to take note. He wasn't at all athletic, and overall, I'd describe his personality as reserved. But underneath it all, he was kindhearted and thoughtful. All of these attributes, I liked a lot, but mostly, I enjoyed hanging with Mike because he just seemed to need a solid friend.
After milling around the following Saturday morning, Mike and I found ourselves with little to do except listen to some music in his room. From what I recall, it was getting close to lunchtime, therefore I knew I'd soon be called home by my mom. Unexpectedly, Mike's older brother appeared in his doorway. I don't recall his name. Not that it matters. He didn't bother to say a word whilst staring at both of us.
Keep in mind that Mike's older brother was built like a grown man. Their father was very tall and athletically built and big brother was no different. Though he was likely only 17, he looked to be 25.
What happened next, I can only describe as horrifically disturbing from a 6th grader's emotional point of view.
I witnessed my friend Mike getting beat up by his older brother to the point of him crying hysterically whilst pleading for him to stop over a period of 5 or so minutes. The pummeling happened right there in the bedroom on the floor with me staring in disbelief throughout. I was terrified to move or speak out of fear, and when it was all over, his older brother simply walked out of the bedroom, leaving me to deal with the fallout.
Mike, as you can imagine, was humiliated to the point that I never actually spoke to him again after that day. There were no more sleepovers. No more watching TV in the master suite. No more rinsing my bumhole via the bidet. The unexpected, undeserved beating severed what little platonic progress he and I had made that weekend.
-------------------------
Each year at Vacation Bible School, as the 5th grade facilitator, I'm given a few youth helpers to assist me throughout the week. I was fortunate this year to work alongside a soon to be 7th grader who was mature and confident beyond his age. Looking at him, there was no doubt he was pre-adolescent, but overall, he was as much of a young man as I'd ever met.
By the time we had lead our 17 elementary students to their 3rd stop on the first day, I began to see why my youth helper (we'll call him Ben) was as mature as he was.
Ben's older brother was also helping out at VBS, but in a more concentrated role. As we lead our 5th graders for the first time into the Recreation space (gymnasium), it didn't take me long to recognize Ben's older brother. In many ways, he looked identical except built like a young man (post adolescence).
What was really intriguing to me though during this juncture was how magnetic Ben's older brother's influence was over Ben. You could sense the swell of pride Ben felt just being in his older brother's presence.
Why was that?
Because Ben was seeing firsthand his genetically confirmed potential right before his eyes.
How cool is that?
I have never witnessed such indirect familial protection as I did on each of the 4 days that these two siblings were together within the same space during VBS. It was such a gift!
It makes my heart smile just thinking back on this.
The power of a respectful, loving, healthy big brother is incredible to witness. Incredible. I feel so fortunate to have this recent memory to replace that which has haunted me for close to 4 decades.
This past week, I volunteered at Lakeside Presbyterian during Vacation Bible School. I've done this for several years now, and essentially, I serve year after year as the 5th grade guide. This means I lead the 5th graders from room to room, activity to activity each day. For example, last week our first stop was the craft room, from there we went to Bible Study, and so forth.
As a upper elementary student, due to the fact that I had no siblings, spending the night with other boys was really appealing to Rob. I'm sure this was similarly appealing to Bob & Darlene (my parents) due to the fact that I shadowed them closely (typical for an only child). At times, I'd seen my friends up close and personal entangle themselves both physically and emotionally with their older siblings during these sleepovers. This was no doubt awkward to witness, but for the most part, I instinctively stayed out of the line of fire.
On one occasion though, I remember being much more than uncomfortable. In fact, what I witnessed (& am about to describe) concretized my perception for some time of just how influential an older sibling could be - for better or for worse.
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When I was in 6th grade (back in 1984 / 1985), I had the privilege of staying over one Friday evening with my new friend, Mike. Mike's parents were much older (& wealthier) than my own. Their home was sprawling (at least thrice the size of the Turner rancher), and subsequently, it was well suited to accommodate a family of 5 people versus 3. It featured beautiful finishes and soaring ceilings within the living spaces whilst situated on an exquisitely manicured lot amongst very mature landscaping.
Mike's parents had a master bedroom suite that contained a massive bathroom (with a bidet) and separate den. This is where we ended up hanging out, watching TV 'till we were sent to his room to turn in. I can still remember the wood paneled walls and thick carpeting. It was perfect for us two innocent (almost) middle schoolers. Super fun times.
Mike was overweight. Not by much, but enough for everyone to take note. He wasn't at all athletic, and overall, I'd describe his personality as reserved. But underneath it all, he was kindhearted and thoughtful. All of these attributes, I liked a lot, but mostly, I enjoyed hanging with Mike because he just seemed to need a solid friend.
After milling around the following Saturday morning, Mike and I found ourselves with little to do except listen to some music in his room. From what I recall, it was getting close to lunchtime, therefore I knew I'd soon be called home by my mom. Unexpectedly, Mike's older brother appeared in his doorway. I don't recall his name. Not that it matters. He didn't bother to say a word whilst staring at both of us.
Keep in mind that Mike's older brother was built like a grown man. Their father was very tall and athletically built and big brother was no different. Though he was likely only 17, he looked to be 25.
What happened next, I can only describe as horrifically disturbing from a 6th grader's emotional point of view.
I witnessed my friend Mike getting beat up by his older brother to the point of him crying hysterically whilst pleading for him to stop over a period of 5 or so minutes. The pummeling happened right there in the bedroom on the floor with me staring in disbelief throughout. I was terrified to move or speak out of fear, and when it was all over, his older brother simply walked out of the bedroom, leaving me to deal with the fallout.
Mike, as you can imagine, was humiliated to the point that I never actually spoke to him again after that day. There were no more sleepovers. No more watching TV in the master suite. No more rinsing my bumhole via the bidet. The unexpected, undeserved beating severed what little platonic progress he and I had made that weekend.
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Each year at Vacation Bible School, as the 5th grade facilitator, I'm given a few youth helpers to assist me throughout the week. I was fortunate this year to work alongside a soon to be 7th grader who was mature and confident beyond his age. Looking at him, there was no doubt he was pre-adolescent, but overall, he was as much of a young man as I'd ever met.
By the time we had lead our 17 elementary students to their 3rd stop on the first day, I began to see why my youth helper (we'll call him Ben) was as mature as he was.
Ben's older brother was also helping out at VBS, but in a more concentrated role. As we lead our 5th graders for the first time into the Recreation space (gymnasium), it didn't take me long to recognize Ben's older brother. In many ways, he looked identical except built like a young man (post adolescence).
What was really intriguing to me though during this juncture was how magnetic Ben's older brother's influence was over Ben. You could sense the swell of pride Ben felt just being in his older brother's presence.
Why was that?
Because Ben was seeing firsthand his genetically confirmed potential right before his eyes.
How cool is that?
I have never witnessed such indirect familial protection as I did on each of the 4 days that these two siblings were together within the same space during VBS. It was such a gift!
It makes my heart smile just thinking back on this.
The power of a respectful, loving, healthy big brother is incredible to witness. Incredible. I feel so fortunate to have this recent memory to replace that which has haunted me for close to 4 decades.
Friday, June 7, 2019
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
Spreading the word regarding the Metro Jackson Samson Society!
Mississippi Christian Living June issue article can be found here.
Thank you Mississippi Christian Living. We are grateful for your willingness to help us spread the word about Samson Society!
Thank you Mississippi Christian Living. We are grateful for your willingness to help us spread the word about Samson Society!
Saturday, June 1, 2019
How Rob Knows
Faith is a gift from God, and it's faith in the unseen that's provided circumstantial proof to Rob that God is working and readily available to me at all times.
If you live long enough, at some point, you're going to experience emotional trauma. Usually it involves abrupt, "undeserved" loss. I use the latter term because it's the resulting pain from that trauma that triggers that descriptor, and typically what follows is the question of "What did I do to deserve this?".
As human beings, we rarely, if ever, have enough faith. Our sin-nature is constantly working to diminish this purest, rarest, most precious of resources. If we were to encounter loss with the necessary faith, there would be no discontent grown out of self-pity due to the fact that there would be little to no self left at that point within us. Therefore, with no self, there's no stupid questions like, "What did I do to deserve this?".
And this leads me to the next reveal which I'll also utilize to finish out this emotional trauma reference.
Being born again results in God's spirit inhabiting man. This spirit works in and through him, bringing about a temperament / persona that's not his own. The Bible refers to this as the "fruits of the spirit". All of these fruits are contrasted wildly to our sin nature, therefore they can bring about behaviors and even entire life circumstances that promulgate the consistent thriving / growth of those around us. It's a way of living life that runs counter to our culture's notion of "do whatever makes you happy, you happy, you happy, you happy."
These fruits combined form one Voltron-like-robot-being called obedience.
And it's that obedience that ultimately provides a path for us to be healed of our trauma. Though the scars will never fade, the horrible pain and suffering from the trauma lessens and lessens 'till it's gone.
What does that process look like exactly?
It depends on the individual. It may involve counsel, community, or none of those, though time for healing to occur is a given. And when you step out on the other side of that valley, the miracle of healing deepens your faith all the more by molding you that much further into the created being God wishes you to be. It's change that brings about contentment which in turn nourishes faith in that which is unseen.
Lagniappe
If you live long enough, at some point, you're going to experience emotional trauma. Usually it involves abrupt, "undeserved" loss. I use the latter term because it's the resulting pain from that trauma that triggers that descriptor, and typically what follows is the question of "What did I do to deserve this?".
As human beings, we rarely, if ever, have enough faith. Our sin-nature is constantly working to diminish this purest, rarest, most precious of resources. If we were to encounter loss with the necessary faith, there would be no discontent grown out of self-pity due to the fact that there would be little to no self left at that point within us. Therefore, with no self, there's no stupid questions like, "What did I do to deserve this?".
And this leads me to the next reveal which I'll also utilize to finish out this emotional trauma reference.
Being born again results in God's spirit inhabiting man. This spirit works in and through him, bringing about a temperament / persona that's not his own. The Bible refers to this as the "fruits of the spirit". All of these fruits are contrasted wildly to our sin nature, therefore they can bring about behaviors and even entire life circumstances that promulgate the consistent thriving / growth of those around us. It's a way of living life that runs counter to our culture's notion of "do whatever makes you happy, you happy, you happy, you happy."
These fruits combined form one Voltron-like-robot-being called obedience.
And it's that obedience that ultimately provides a path for us to be healed of our trauma. Though the scars will never fade, the horrible pain and suffering from the trauma lessens and lessens 'till it's gone.
What does that process look like exactly?
It depends on the individual. It may involve counsel, community, or none of those, though time for healing to occur is a given. And when you step out on the other side of that valley, the miracle of healing deepens your faith all the more by molding you that much further into the created being God wishes you to be. It's change that brings about contentment which in turn nourishes faith in that which is unseen.
Lagniappe
She Has Not Forgotten the Husband of Her Youth
Angie and I have been married 23 years today.
We started out this Saturday doing what is reserved for husband / wife only within the marriage bed.
Angie runs her own business out of our home. For those of you who can comprehend what it's like living with a wife who has this much responsibility (on top of being the mother of my three children), there's way too much for her to realistically manage, yet she somehow, through God's grace, keeps all of the various plates spinning. Oftentimes, she's up well before the sun rises to get a few hours of work in prior to engaging with all of us around 6 AM. Now that school is out for the summer, she and I are both seeing some workload reprieve, but due to the fact that Angie's business is her responsibility solely, she's still on task most of the time.
What's amazing to me is that she's not forgotten the Rob of 23 years ago. Though I'm nothing like I was then, she remembers that new husband and how her body responded to his advances.
Sexual relations for middle-aged husbands can routinely be about them "getting off". I've heard men talk about feeling as if they're essentially masturbating whilst having intercourse. For Angie and I, there have been some difficult seasons of less than stellar sex, but overall, we've been enriched and subsequently grown closer together as husband / wife.
That's so sad to me, and I do understand that many, many middle-aged wives forget the husbands of their youth (if they ever knew him at all). From there, they might look to porn or romance novels or simply close off their sexuality completely. I would argue that at point, she's likely doing more harm than good, unless her husband is physically disabled / has no libido.
I'm blessed that Angie hasn't gone down that path. Plus, I'm blessed to have this special day to acknowledge this.
The Bible proclaims a wife's body to be the property of her husband's and vice versa. That initial season of sexual play whilst newlyweds, may its intensity and brevity never be forgotten as she and I continue to work to harken back to who we once were and yet in so many ways still are.
We started out this Saturday doing what is reserved for husband / wife only within the marriage bed.
Angie runs her own business out of our home. For those of you who can comprehend what it's like living with a wife who has this much responsibility (on top of being the mother of my three children), there's way too much for her to realistically manage, yet she somehow, through God's grace, keeps all of the various plates spinning. Oftentimes, she's up well before the sun rises to get a few hours of work in prior to engaging with all of us around 6 AM. Now that school is out for the summer, she and I are both seeing some workload reprieve, but due to the fact that Angie's business is her responsibility solely, she's still on task most of the time.
What's amazing to me is that she's not forgotten the Rob of 23 years ago. Though I'm nothing like I was then, she remembers that new husband and how her body responded to his advances.
Sexual relations for middle-aged husbands can routinely be about them "getting off". I've heard men talk about feeling as if they're essentially masturbating whilst having intercourse. For Angie and I, there have been some difficult seasons of less than stellar sex, but overall, we've been enriched and subsequently grown closer together as husband / wife.
That's so sad to me, and I do understand that many, many middle-aged wives forget the husbands of their youth (if they ever knew him at all). From there, they might look to porn or romance novels or simply close off their sexuality completely. I would argue that at point, she's likely doing more harm than good, unless her husband is physically disabled / has no libido.
I'm blessed that Angie hasn't gone down that path. Plus, I'm blessed to have this special day to acknowledge this.
The Bible proclaims a wife's body to be the property of her husband's and vice versa. That initial season of sexual play whilst newlyweds, may its intensity and brevity never be forgotten as she and I continue to work to harken back to who we once were and yet in so many ways still are.
Monday, May 27, 2019
Why Aren't Black Men Involved In Samson Society?
Many years ago, for Rob, the only resource for pornography was printed material that was sold at franchise booksellers. During that particular era of analog smut, I would haunt the Jackson Books-A-Million store in order to purchase my fix every 60 days of so. Now, my go to wasn't typical for men, therefore it was even more difficult for me to step up to that counter and address the clerk for what I knew I shouldn't purchase but in many ways, desperately needed.
I remember one occasion distinctly because this particular clerk had the audacity to mock me after the transaction was complete.
This young black woman chided me by saying "Now, you tell all of your friends to come in here as well and see me."
Who she was referring to were my gay friends. For you see, I had asked to purchase a Playgirl magazine.
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I've only known of one black man to attend any Samson Society meetings. I had the privilege of talking with him extensively at one particular after-meeting. He disclosed a lot to me during that time, but one thing that stood out was his revealing to me how he'd been belittled as gay by women he'd dated. And the way this occurred was simply through casual dialogue. The women literally belittled this guy by accusing him of being gay based on what they'd observed of his demeanor / mannerisms over some set period of time. And this was in spite of the fact that he was sexually active with all of these women during their dating relationships.
To return to what happened to me in Books-A-Million, you'll recall, I asked for that Playgirl magazine, and when I did, the clerk heard me speak. Not a whole lot, mind you, but enough for her to hear a man's voice that didn't in the slightest resonate as hyper masculine.
I cannot tell you how many times I've ordered food at a fast-food restaurant by engaging with a black female, and that female immediately smirking in response to both the pitch and inflections of my voice. In fact, most of the time when I'm in McDonald's, I'm intentional about speaking very softly in order to minimize the auditory impact.
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Overall, Samson Society is about as gay as it gets despite the fact that it has nothing to do with men being romantically / sexually involved with each other. What I mean by that is Samson Society is first and foremost about building platonic relationships between men that ultimately will provide some semblance of accountability to said men.
I believe many, many men choose to shun men's ministry altogether due to this (including Samson Society).
But I believe black men, in particular, exhibit zero confidence in themselves in this regard, therefore they absolutely will not invest themselves in any semblance of men's ministry out of fear. And that fear is tied directly to their perceived sexuality (by black women).
To me, as a white man, having a black woman attempt to humiliate me by labeling me as gay does little harm in the end. Sure, it's belittling and awkward, but I'm frankly not interested in her view / opinion of Rob. Although, if I was a black man, I do believe, the tables would be turned in her favor.
It is a travesty that Samson Society (as well as most every other men's ministry I've been involved in) is white through and through. Where do black men go for support that in no way, shape or form hints at homosexual feelings / relations (the basketball court / barber shop)? What a paradox black men find themselves dealing with! The one thing that can provide so much healing is off limits from the standpoint of potentially de-masculinizing him under the premise of it appearing homosexual in nature / character.
I remember one occasion distinctly because this particular clerk had the audacity to mock me after the transaction was complete.
This young black woman chided me by saying "Now, you tell all of your friends to come in here as well and see me."
Who she was referring to were my gay friends. For you see, I had asked to purchase a Playgirl magazine.
-------------------------
I've only known of one black man to attend any Samson Society meetings. I had the privilege of talking with him extensively at one particular after-meeting. He disclosed a lot to me during that time, but one thing that stood out was his revealing to me how he'd been belittled as gay by women he'd dated. And the way this occurred was simply through casual dialogue. The women literally belittled this guy by accusing him of being gay based on what they'd observed of his demeanor / mannerisms over some set period of time. And this was in spite of the fact that he was sexually active with all of these women during their dating relationships.
To return to what happened to me in Books-A-Million, you'll recall, I asked for that Playgirl magazine, and when I did, the clerk heard me speak. Not a whole lot, mind you, but enough for her to hear a man's voice that didn't in the slightest resonate as hyper masculine.
I cannot tell you how many times I've ordered food at a fast-food restaurant by engaging with a black female, and that female immediately smirking in response to both the pitch and inflections of my voice. In fact, most of the time when I'm in McDonald's, I'm intentional about speaking very softly in order to minimize the auditory impact.
-------------------------
Overall, Samson Society is about as gay as it gets despite the fact that it has nothing to do with men being romantically / sexually involved with each other. What I mean by that is Samson Society is first and foremost about building platonic relationships between men that ultimately will provide some semblance of accountability to said men.
I believe many, many men choose to shun men's ministry altogether due to this (including Samson Society).
But I believe black men, in particular, exhibit zero confidence in themselves in this regard, therefore they absolutely will not invest themselves in any semblance of men's ministry out of fear. And that fear is tied directly to their perceived sexuality (by black women).
To me, as a white man, having a black woman attempt to humiliate me by labeling me as gay does little harm in the end. Sure, it's belittling and awkward, but I'm frankly not interested in her view / opinion of Rob. Although, if I was a black man, I do believe, the tables would be turned in her favor.
It is a travesty that Samson Society (as well as most every other men's ministry I've been involved in) is white through and through. Where do black men go for support that in no way, shape or form hints at homosexual feelings / relations (the basketball court / barber shop)? What a paradox black men find themselves dealing with! The one thing that can provide so much healing is off limits from the standpoint of potentially de-masculinizing him under the premise of it appearing homosexual in nature / character.
Saturday, May 25, 2019
Pretend That You Like Me / Vicarious Attraction
Salacious photography hit Rob like an emotional sledgehammer to the head as a middle schooler. The drugstore periodicals is where I encountered these firstly, and these images weren't on the top shelf or packaged in opaque plastic. These were "run of the mill" exercise magazines, positioned as "How To" guides on how to look super strong, healthy, and ultimately, physically perfect. Prior to that encounter, I'd honed my imagination on comic books, TV, and film from the era of the '80s. Our family was no different than other middle class white nuclears. We gorged ourselves on the newly introduced cable television each day and ran to the moviehouse to see the latest film on the weekends, never having any truthful idea what we were introducing ourselves to 'till the credits rolled.
Like a young screenwriter, I took those salacious exercise magazine photographs and added a sexualized narrative to them, and typically that narrative involved me being pursued. This brought on feelings of worthiness and value. It was overwhelmingly effective at counteracting my low adolescent self-esteem. Plus, I was in complete control of the fantasy, therefore no one could come in and complicate these relationships or cut them short.
As a college student, I continued in this vein, but at this point, I relied solely on my imagination to fuel these sexual fantasies, though the themes remained the same.
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This past fall, I attended the Samson Society retreat in Eva, Tennessee. On Saturday, Mr. Nate Larkin challenged us to illustrate some specific scenarios (past or present) that represented thematically a certain portion of our story. Afterwards, we paired up with 3 or 4 men who were close at hand to discuss our individual work. One Samson man in our group was in his mid 50s, and upon sharing one of his illustrations, mentioned how difficult it was for him to believe he was at all physically / sexually attractive. Therefore, he rescinded to Internet porn as an escape which fueled this notion that fantasy lust was justifiable due to his need for self-love.
Now, this man was by no means unattractive physically. Nor was he physically disabled or of low intelligence. That's what made this confession so shocking to me.
The industry that sells salacious imagery to us, no matter the format, are slight of hand illusionist who indirectly evangelize self-hatred. Overall, their product fuels this negativity whilst consumed, but particularly within individuals who are highly visual (like me).
--------------------------
Years ago, I was watching a daytime television talk show that featured a handful of young beautiful women alongside their mothers. The premise of this particular show was mother / daughter support relative to the daughters being recently photographed naked in Playboy magazine. At a certain point during the interviews, the host stopped to take questions from the studio audience. One very brave man caught the attention of the show host prior to asking the following question of the Playboy Playmates, "Do you understand why it is that mostly men purchase Playboy magazine?"
The camera filming the ladies on the stage abruptly captured their awkward silence before this man answered his own query bluntly.
"They do so in order to masturbate to the photos."
Now that same camera zoomed into these beautiful women's faces squirming in disgust, all the while looking at each other as if they'd now been exposed to the reality of their monumental regret.
-------------------------
I am convinced that the majority of our consumable entertainment culture is fueled by nothing more than propaganda, subtly telling consumers, "You're a worthless piece of shit because you don't measure up to what you're seeing here onscreen, therefore choose to emotionally invest yourself within these images / story just as everyone else does. To do so will make you feel better about your pathetic self."
For so many of us here in the western world, having been sold this bill of goods since childhood, it certainly has made a lasting impression.
What can be done to break free from these lies? Choose now to STOP consuming them.
Like a young screenwriter, I took those salacious exercise magazine photographs and added a sexualized narrative to them, and typically that narrative involved me being pursued. This brought on feelings of worthiness and value. It was overwhelmingly effective at counteracting my low adolescent self-esteem. Plus, I was in complete control of the fantasy, therefore no one could come in and complicate these relationships or cut them short.
As a college student, I continued in this vein, but at this point, I relied solely on my imagination to fuel these sexual fantasies, though the themes remained the same.
-------------------------
This past fall, I attended the Samson Society retreat in Eva, Tennessee. On Saturday, Mr. Nate Larkin challenged us to illustrate some specific scenarios (past or present) that represented thematically a certain portion of our story. Afterwards, we paired up with 3 or 4 men who were close at hand to discuss our individual work. One Samson man in our group was in his mid 50s, and upon sharing one of his illustrations, mentioned how difficult it was for him to believe he was at all physically / sexually attractive. Therefore, he rescinded to Internet porn as an escape which fueled this notion that fantasy lust was justifiable due to his need for self-love.
Now, this man was by no means unattractive physically. Nor was he physically disabled or of low intelligence. That's what made this confession so shocking to me.
The industry that sells salacious imagery to us, no matter the format, are slight of hand illusionist who indirectly evangelize self-hatred. Overall, their product fuels this negativity whilst consumed, but particularly within individuals who are highly visual (like me).
--------------------------
Years ago, I was watching a daytime television talk show that featured a handful of young beautiful women alongside their mothers. The premise of this particular show was mother / daughter support relative to the daughters being recently photographed naked in Playboy magazine. At a certain point during the interviews, the host stopped to take questions from the studio audience. One very brave man caught the attention of the show host prior to asking the following question of the Playboy Playmates, "Do you understand why it is that mostly men purchase Playboy magazine?"
The camera filming the ladies on the stage abruptly captured their awkward silence before this man answered his own query bluntly.
"They do so in order to masturbate to the photos."
Now that same camera zoomed into these beautiful women's faces squirming in disgust, all the while looking at each other as if they'd now been exposed to the reality of their monumental regret.
-------------------------
I am convinced that the majority of our consumable entertainment culture is fueled by nothing more than propaganda, subtly telling consumers, "You're a worthless piece of shit because you don't measure up to what you're seeing here onscreen, therefore choose to emotionally invest yourself within these images / story just as everyone else does. To do so will make you feel better about your pathetic self."
For so many of us here in the western world, having been sold this bill of goods since childhood, it certainly has made a lasting impression.
What can be done to break free from these lies? Choose now to STOP consuming them.
The Religious Wife & Her Husband of Ill Repute
Religious wives who choose to remain with husbands who've participated in sexual sin, by definition, may very well do so for the sole purpose of persecuting him for what he's either admitted to taking part in or getting caught in taking part in.
Some of these women can be classified as viragos. I've seen it, and essentially, from my point of view, it's her exploiting a marital relationship in order for her husband to suffer by her hand "'till death do us part".
We all enjoy watching others suffer. It's one of the reasons behind our fascination with news / current events television. When you're "in the know" relative to others pain, either through journalism or gossip, it can instantly seem to elevate one's sense of well-being by gratifying that part of us that detest self-examination (by distraction).
A religious wife may say, "I don't know the you who's done these things", or she simply may stay tight-lipped about the entire situation, to the point of completely disregarding the man's need for recovery (through Samson Society or otherwise).
Religion is tangible. There is order there, and this plays into a wife's need for security. But religion, as we know from Scripture, is empty / fruitless. It promotes pride which is the ultimate demerit against our Heavenly Father.
--------------------------
Now there's another piece to this, and that's the sexual side of these couple's marriages.
Religion in no way promotes pleasurable activity within the marriage bed because the emphasis is always on moral / spiritual superiority coupled with an almost repugnant view of the flesh. There's plenty of instruction on obedience and holiness, but none related to oral sex, heavy petting, or butt play because the two simply cannot coexist. Oral sex, heavy petting, and butt play promote vulnerability and shameless physical pleasure between husband and wife. These awesome activities promote unity by helping marriages heal systematically as they endure the repetitive grind.
But religion isn't interested in healing. Not really. Because when healing occurs, there's that loss of power and control over the failed spouse and that intoxicating sense of moral superiority / opportunity for persecution.
Marriage is a joining of two into one. One flesh. Husband and wife. Man and woman. It's a amazingly complex, supernatural work. There are Biblical standards for marriages to end in divorce. It's all written in Scripture, but if a couple chooses to work through sexual sin, the scenario I've described here must be avoided at all costs. Otherwise, you'll simply end up with a husband who's walking through life with a boot on his neck. And that's in no way in line with the respect he needs to thrive as his wife's husband.
Some of these women can be classified as viragos. I've seen it, and essentially, from my point of view, it's her exploiting a marital relationship in order for her husband to suffer by her hand "'till death do us part".
We all enjoy watching others suffer. It's one of the reasons behind our fascination with news / current events television. When you're "in the know" relative to others pain, either through journalism or gossip, it can instantly seem to elevate one's sense of well-being by gratifying that part of us that detest self-examination (by distraction).
A religious wife may say, "I don't know the you who's done these things", or she simply may stay tight-lipped about the entire situation, to the point of completely disregarding the man's need for recovery (through Samson Society or otherwise).
Religion is tangible. There is order there, and this plays into a wife's need for security. But religion, as we know from Scripture, is empty / fruitless. It promotes pride which is the ultimate demerit against our Heavenly Father.
--------------------------
Now there's another piece to this, and that's the sexual side of these couple's marriages.
Religion in no way promotes pleasurable activity within the marriage bed because the emphasis is always on moral / spiritual superiority coupled with an almost repugnant view of the flesh. There's plenty of instruction on obedience and holiness, but none related to oral sex, heavy petting, or butt play because the two simply cannot coexist. Oral sex, heavy petting, and butt play promote vulnerability and shameless physical pleasure between husband and wife. These awesome activities promote unity by helping marriages heal systematically as they endure the repetitive grind.
But religion isn't interested in healing. Not really. Because when healing occurs, there's that loss of power and control over the failed spouse and that intoxicating sense of moral superiority / opportunity for persecution.
Marriage is a joining of two into one. One flesh. Husband and wife. Man and woman. It's a amazingly complex, supernatural work. There are Biblical standards for marriages to end in divorce. It's all written in Scripture, but if a couple chooses to work through sexual sin, the scenario I've described here must be avoided at all costs. Otherwise, you'll simply end up with a husband who's walking through life with a boot on his neck. And that's in no way in line with the respect he needs to thrive as his wife's husband.
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