We live in the strange age of the ubiquitous Internet, and for me, this strangeness reared its head initially with a decided impression back in the late '90s. Angie and I had only been married for a few years. We'd endured her terrible bouts with the mental illness of anxiety disorder and the subsequent panic attacks throughout our newlywedding. Therefore, at this time (we were married in the mid-90s), things were beginning to settle down some as we learned to live life reasonably well as DINKS (double-income no kids).
And then this thing called the Internet showed up, thanks to a laptop she'd been issued by her employer. It didn't take long at all for me to "take my turn" at the laptop [*wink, wink*] and get my first look at what it meant to be online, and from there, I found pornography as I'd never imagined.
Keep in mind that growing up here in Mississippi offered few, if any, opportunities to look at smut. Know too that Angie was privy, prior to our marriage, to my obsession with porn. She and I had traveled to NOLA on a few occasions and it was there in The Big Easy that I fessed up (at the time NOLA was one of the only reasonably close cities to Jackson where print porn was available at the magazine stands).
-------------------------
When you grow up never seeing professionally shot photos of beautiful naked people posing and sexing other beautiful naked people, your life is certainly not waning in that particular "culturally necessitated" experience, but when these images are thrust upon you, particularly considering a certain season of life, its impact is not unlike the detonation of an emotional atomic bomb. At least that's how it was for me.
Having come off of this rough initial marital season (as I described above) combined with being a massively visual individual (architect intern), I found myself helpless to combat the allure of Internet porn. This neverending resource for smut of every ilk. So much so, in fact, that I went to my wife (eventually) and asked specifically for help in the form of quarantine by saying, "Keep me away from your work laptop. If you don't, the Internet will likely kill me". And whilst looking back, there was some truth to that statement.
But that smart confession move didn't occur until I'd partook in a major binge session on the eve of Thanksgiving, and for this, I was given a regret that I'm sadly not likely to ever forget.
-------------------------
Thanksgiving Eve, Angie hadn't been sleeping well and made a comment to me that she'd likely need a Tylenol PM in order to assist her that evening. I took it upon myself to coerce her into taking two. And I did this in order to ensure that once asleep, she'd stay that way throughout the night.
From there, I crawled out of our bed and jumped online via her laptop (which I'd discreetly left turned on) on the opposite end of our apartment. I then binged on online images as the hours waned 'till eventually I realized dawn would soon be approaching. And, my goodness, what a moment that was realizing I'd spent the entire night using Internet pornography, and that I'd have to face my very well rested wife (as well as her family) throughout the rest of the Thanksgiving Day.
I climbed in bed for an hour or two of sleep before being woken up by Angie at my side. She'd slept well. I cannot begin to describe how regrettably I attempted to go about getting prepared to Thanksgiving with all of her family. But, I did, and life marched on.
-------------------------
What came out of this binge session was threefold:
1. I got away with it but with a sizable amount of what I've now dubbed "newlywed regret".
2. I realized just how infinite the abyss of the Internet truly was / is.
3. There aren't that many exceptionally beautiful people on planet Earth. Great looking people, yes. Exceptionally beautiful, no. But, there are plenty of people on the planet who're willing to pose sans clothing for a salacious photo in order to make a buck.
Let's break these down in an effort to close this out.
1. The first three to five years of marriage is a critical time relative to seeding / fertilizing the element of trust between husband / wife, and those seeds start with the individual being able to trust themselves firstly. One of the biggest issues my wife was confronted with as she dealt with her aforementioned mental illness "outbreak" was not being able to trust herself as my wife. Hence, she experienced intense seasons of mental anguish as she wrestled with what I'll call "wife self-doubt". It was as if the very fabric of whom she'd set out to be as Angie Turner was coming unraveled right at the start. I microcosmically experienced the same whilst hiding out Thanksgiving Eve in our apartment's TV room with my underwear down around my ankles. Other new husbands might have had similar self-doubts relative to engaging in an anonymous sex encounter or paying for telephone sex, but for me, it was this deep Internet porn dive I took, behind my wife's back, that brought on these intense negative feelings.
As most new husbands (Christian or otherwise) set out to be, I wanted to be faithful through and through to my wife, and I had been, up to that point, in spite of her ongoing struggles with her mental unhealth. But those pornographic images also opened a Pandora's Box of doubt within my own mind, and unfortunately, I became convinced that more and more exceptional was out there to be found / used. Therefore, this pursuit in turn was far more gratifying than a newfound DINKS lifestyle situated in suburban Jackson, Mississippi. Not to mention the unexpected season of anxiety I'd just endured with Angie.
Let me reiterate a point I mentioned earlier. When young husbands use online porn, they're arguably doing exponentially more damage to themselves firstly, and typically they're not even realizing it. The damage runs counter to his need to believe in himself and his ability to lead himself and his new bride as head of household. Too, if he's honest with his spouse relative to his smut consumption, that will undoubtedly sow seeds of doubt as well from his helpmeet. It's a very poisoning experience, yet the elixir tastes so sweet and refined.
I'm convinced a marriage lead by a husband who doubts himself internally is prone to being vulnerable to Satanic attack, and those attacks will focus on promulgating mistrust between both (& inside of) parties.
2. When I'd used print porn, the quantity of smut was finite. Typically, I'd hold onto the material for a few days prior to tossing it into the trash. Of course, this is not so with Internet porn, and too, there's so many sites online where like-minded sickos put their digital smut on display in the form of blogs, etc. Therefore, given enough time, one can connect with these, and therefore participate within a community of sinners, bound together by salicious material. This is arguably the most destructive usage of the Internet. Who would argue against the notion that mankind's sin nature seems to be amplified online. The supposed anonymity ramps up this illusion, and it's terribly wicked to take part in. No amount of warnings can proportionally make up for what's out there to "sow one's oats" within. It is unfathomable to behold until you've seen it firsthand.
3. My qualitative threshold for erotica is up there within the 99th percentile. Most of this exceptionally "high-quality" material is behind a paywall, therefore that wasn't where I was interested in going (using one of our credit cards would have certainly served to expose me). But, I absolutely LOVED THE THRILL OF THE HUNT (for "free" exceptionally high-quality porn)! And this cannot be emphasized enough. For years and years, I returned to the www for the sole purpose of scratching that curiosity itch. What could I possibly find today? This was the question that lingered and lingered within the back of my mind.
Thursday, December 26, 2019
Monday, December 23, 2019
You Have What I Want, & I'm Willing To Admit To That
Encouragement / affirmation from a man you respect that's specific relative to an attribute you've worked to obtain is such a gift.
And I would argue, you'll never see yourself the same way again, or at least I won't. Nor will you see that other man as you did before, or at least I won't. The specific encouragement / admiration affirms, and therefore seals the two men close due to the humility it took to administer, and in turn the commitment to hold onto said encouragement in order to keep it privately held between both parties.
A boatload of good comes from friendship between men. It's a healthy / helpful brotherhood.
And I would argue, you'll never see yourself the same way again, or at least I won't. Nor will you see that other man as you did before, or at least I won't. The specific encouragement / admiration affirms, and therefore seals the two men close due to the humility it took to administer, and in turn the commitment to hold onto said encouragement in order to keep it privately held between both parties.
A boatload of good comes from friendship between men. It's a healthy / helpful brotherhood.
Sunday, December 22, 2019
The Intimacy Ache
The most notoriously routine disqualifier for me within the friendships I've been fortunate to foster throughout the years is the disconnect centered squarely on intimacy needs.
But that's now changed or changing. I think changing is the better word here. Thanks be to God and his work within my life in and through Samson Society.
Based on my experience, most men feel they're no longer men if they even begin to consider intimacy as a need. In fact most, I would argue, qualify intimacy as a weak point that directly targets their masculinity. And of course, if that's the case, how could there possibly be a need for intimacy at all if it's simply going to do harm to your / their identity as a man?
As a same-sex attracted man who began to clumsily take stock of his own intimacy needs decades ago, I can tell you that there's only a miniscule percentage of guys out there who fall into the camp of admitting they have intimacy needs. Miniscule.
Therefore, ain't a whole lot of opportunity to relate from this perspective, if you know what I mean.
Nonetheless, it's a viable topic today due to not only how its resolution is impacting me personally but how too it's voidance has indirectly impacted Samson men in a negative capacity whom I'm fortunate to call friends.
All that being said, I'm learning by experience and vicariously through friends' experience regarding this monumentally important topic.
-------------------------
So what does intimacy look like for a man who's readily identified it as a need of his own?
I see it as follows: It's being personally known by someone that you're attracted to, and as a qualifier, that attraction must look to be sustainable for some period of time. Attraction is the key here, and for most of us, that attraction begins with our understanding of another person's mind i.e. how they think / see themselves and the world around them. Of course too, it helps if that brain is being carried around in an attractive bod to match, but that's certainly not a must.
For example, you've had the experience of living, working, playing, worshiping alongside other humans who've been given beautiful exteriors but none the equal values to match your own, then there's likely going to be a holistic disconnect there by default. Therefore if you have intimacy needs, you're up a creek relative to the real deal. Hence, alternative finds (many involving sin) may come into play.
All and all, it takes work and providence to locate relational matches where intimacy can blossom, therefore in God's sovereignty, we are at his mercy to provide.
-------------------------
So, let's say you're a young Christian intimacy-aching man and you begin dating a young Christian woman. Then, against God's will for your dating circumstance, you begin to lead her into passionate make out sessions that warm her up sexually to such a degree that she's allowing you to do what you two discussed - early on - never to do. And the next thing you know, you're fondling and fingering, massaging and teasing, and this results in her spreading her legs for you to make physical love to her. And now you've found yourself, having relinquished your virginities, feeling just about married. Except you're not.
Before we proceed further with this example, let's define intimacy. For I'm of the opinion that this is where things get interesting / catastrophically complex fast.
Now, let's add a little more to our understanding of intimacy (as I see it). For each and every "intimacy needy" guy, his partaking of such is not unlike one's / his own penchant for dessert. What kind and how much varies man to man, but as I alluded to earlier, for men with that intimacy ache, they're looking for respectful, relational similarities firstly tied to a willingness to be vulnerable.
Now, rewind to my example above. How unfortunate a situation this now is as these two lovers have relinquished the clear headedness needed to adjudicate whether their boy / girlfriend is a proper match relative to their "choice of desserts". Why might this occur? Intercourse seals the deal relation-ally thereby short-circuiting the brain, especially within the mind of women, though many men too find it difficult to think clearly when the fires of passion are constantly being stoked by sexual sin.
As I've detailed here prior within other posts, God's plan to not fornicate is the best plan. Marrying someone who's unable to meet intimacy needs is a tough sell for a lifelong promise (as the years wane onward). No matter how fulfilling the sex is.
-------------------------
I met a Floridian at the Samson Society retreat who's about my age, married with 3 children. We've been dialoguing ever since, having had the opportunity there in TN to share our stories to each other. This friendship has served as a mirror for me in many ways because I can see so much of my own intimacy needy self within my friend.
Now, let me backtrack to when I originally began investing time in Samson Society meetings here in Jackson back in 2014. Just a few months into my tenure, I befriended a man whose story was brutally difficult for me to bear. His vocation coupled with his sin harkened back (for me) to past trying friendships / childhood experiences that were extremely difficult to keep separate within my mind. Therefore, I'd often find myself frustrated with the level of exhaustion I'd face as I worked to assist this man in carrying his blistering shame / regret. This friendship went on for well over a year, and I stayed faithful throughout. But what didn't occur between the two of us was any platonic cross pollination, and for the longest, I could never understand why.
-------------------------
Sex addicts do exist. I believe that today, though for the longest, I didn't think it was possible to actually be addicted to sex. First and foremost, the pull towards sex for these is almost animalistic. For many a sex addict who's target includes sex involving other people, there's often a ritual involved that includes some semblance of flirting and eventual seduction. In the interstitial moments outside of this dance, they may be heavily involved in pornography use which fuels their addiction to all things sexual / sexualized.
What I'm describing here is exactly what I saw within my Samson friend from 2014, but in all truthfulness, I was convinced his situation was somewhat anomalous due to my own ignorance relative to sex addiction.
Rewind again to my new Floridian friend that I met at the retreat. He's no addict, therefore his indiscretions he actually doesn't regret. Knowing full well what he was doing, he'd reached a place where his need for intimacy overruled everything else. Therefore when opportunity knocked, those intimate relationships resulted in infidelity. Upon suspicions arising within the mind of his spouse, he answered honestly before disclosing everything to her (w/ a professional counselor present). Today, their marriage is still on the rocks (2+ years into the future). It's sexless and she's bitter / very much opposed to working on her own half of the marriage. No doubt, she's also dealing with massive trauma, having lost her trust in her husband.
He's found himself up a creek without a paddle, and at the present, she's still in boat beating him over the head with it.
How can this marriage last? I pray he'll find contentment. Plus, I'll attempt to serve him well as a friend. What a gift it is to know him, recognizing the similarities in wiring that we both possess.
I have learned so much about myself by befriending other men via Samson Society. Extremely helpful indeed.
But that's now changed or changing. I think changing is the better word here. Thanks be to God and his work within my life in and through Samson Society.
Based on my experience, most men feel they're no longer men if they even begin to consider intimacy as a need. In fact most, I would argue, qualify intimacy as a weak point that directly targets their masculinity. And of course, if that's the case, how could there possibly be a need for intimacy at all if it's simply going to do harm to your / their identity as a man?
As a same-sex attracted man who began to clumsily take stock of his own intimacy needs decades ago, I can tell you that there's only a miniscule percentage of guys out there who fall into the camp of admitting they have intimacy needs. Miniscule.
Therefore, ain't a whole lot of opportunity to relate from this perspective, if you know what I mean.
Nonetheless, it's a viable topic today due to not only how its resolution is impacting me personally but how too it's voidance has indirectly impacted Samson men in a negative capacity whom I'm fortunate to call friends.
All that being said, I'm learning by experience and vicariously through friends' experience regarding this monumentally important topic.
-------------------------
So what does intimacy look like for a man who's readily identified it as a need of his own?
I see it as follows: It's being personally known by someone that you're attracted to, and as a qualifier, that attraction must look to be sustainable for some period of time. Attraction is the key here, and for most of us, that attraction begins with our understanding of another person's mind i.e. how they think / see themselves and the world around them. Of course too, it helps if that brain is being carried around in an attractive bod to match, but that's certainly not a must.
For example, you've had the experience of living, working, playing, worshiping alongside other humans who've been given beautiful exteriors but none the equal values to match your own, then there's likely going to be a holistic disconnect there by default. Therefore if you have intimacy needs, you're up a creek relative to the real deal. Hence, alternative finds (many involving sin) may come into play.
All and all, it takes work and providence to locate relational matches where intimacy can blossom, therefore in God's sovereignty, we are at his mercy to provide.
-------------------------
So, let's say you're a young Christian intimacy-aching man and you begin dating a young Christian woman. Then, against God's will for your dating circumstance, you begin to lead her into passionate make out sessions that warm her up sexually to such a degree that she's allowing you to do what you two discussed - early on - never to do. And the next thing you know, you're fondling and fingering, massaging and teasing, and this results in her spreading her legs for you to make physical love to her. And now you've found yourself, having relinquished your virginities, feeling just about married. Except you're not.
Before we proceed further with this example, let's define intimacy. For I'm of the opinion that this is where things get interesting / catastrophically complex fast.
Now, let's add a little more to our understanding of intimacy (as I see it). For each and every "intimacy needy" guy, his partaking of such is not unlike one's / his own penchant for dessert. What kind and how much varies man to man, but as I alluded to earlier, for men with that intimacy ache, they're looking for respectful, relational similarities firstly tied to a willingness to be vulnerable.
Now, rewind to my example above. How unfortunate a situation this now is as these two lovers have relinquished the clear headedness needed to adjudicate whether their boy / girlfriend is a proper match relative to their "choice of desserts". Why might this occur? Intercourse seals the deal relation-ally thereby short-circuiting the brain, especially within the mind of women, though many men too find it difficult to think clearly when the fires of passion are constantly being stoked by sexual sin.
As I've detailed here prior within other posts, God's plan to not fornicate is the best plan. Marrying someone who's unable to meet intimacy needs is a tough sell for a lifelong promise (as the years wane onward). No matter how fulfilling the sex is.
-------------------------
I met a Floridian at the Samson Society retreat who's about my age, married with 3 children. We've been dialoguing ever since, having had the opportunity there in TN to share our stories to each other. This friendship has served as a mirror for me in many ways because I can see so much of my own intimacy needy self within my friend.
Now, let me backtrack to when I originally began investing time in Samson Society meetings here in Jackson back in 2014. Just a few months into my tenure, I befriended a man whose story was brutally difficult for me to bear. His vocation coupled with his sin harkened back (for me) to past trying friendships / childhood experiences that were extremely difficult to keep separate within my mind. Therefore, I'd often find myself frustrated with the level of exhaustion I'd face as I worked to assist this man in carrying his blistering shame / regret. This friendship went on for well over a year, and I stayed faithful throughout. But what didn't occur between the two of us was any platonic cross pollination, and for the longest, I could never understand why.
-------------------------
Sex addicts do exist. I believe that today, though for the longest, I didn't think it was possible to actually be addicted to sex. First and foremost, the pull towards sex for these is almost animalistic. For many a sex addict who's target includes sex involving other people, there's often a ritual involved that includes some semblance of flirting and eventual seduction. In the interstitial moments outside of this dance, they may be heavily involved in pornography use which fuels their addiction to all things sexual / sexualized.
What I'm describing here is exactly what I saw within my Samson friend from 2014, but in all truthfulness, I was convinced his situation was somewhat anomalous due to my own ignorance relative to sex addiction.
Rewind again to my new Floridian friend that I met at the retreat. He's no addict, therefore his indiscretions he actually doesn't regret. Knowing full well what he was doing, he'd reached a place where his need for intimacy overruled everything else. Therefore when opportunity knocked, those intimate relationships resulted in infidelity. Upon suspicions arising within the mind of his spouse, he answered honestly before disclosing everything to her (w/ a professional counselor present). Today, their marriage is still on the rocks (2+ years into the future). It's sexless and she's bitter / very much opposed to working on her own half of the marriage. No doubt, she's also dealing with massive trauma, having lost her trust in her husband.
He's found himself up a creek without a paddle, and at the present, she's still in boat beating him over the head with it.
How can this marriage last? I pray he'll find contentment. Plus, I'll attempt to serve him well as a friend. What a gift it is to know him, recognizing the similarities in wiring that we both possess.
I have learned so much about myself by befriending other men via Samson Society. Extremely helpful indeed.
Wednesday, December 18, 2019
The Harsh Reality of Xmas
We live in a day and age of deeper and deeper still - personal lifestyle facades. Facades that we work to constantly perfect to the point that we actually begin to believe they're our reality, and I suppose eventually a facade, if it ends up deep enough, will serve to replace reality itself. Wait a minute, nope. That's not possible. Scratch that.
In the past, it was consumerism that fed this pursuit of lifestyle facade construction, but today, it's also social media and any / all forms of technology that serve to buttress our camouflage.
The end-of-the-year holiday season can serve to ramp up that work on said facades when in actuality, there's tremendous experiential pain going on behind the scenes. I became aware of this as a teen right around this time of year when there presented itself a breach in my serendipitous reality one Xmas eve. Read on.
-------------------------
When I was a boy, my father spent Thursdays out of town (in the MS Delta) for business, and often wouldn't return home 'till late Thursday night. On one particular Thursday night where he was absent from the homestead, my mother and I were spending the evening watching Christmas television programming in the den (or TV room). The home in Madison I was reared within was +/-1,800 square feet, therefore like the abode I reside in today, a loud enough yell or scream would easily resonate throughout. The den was on the east end of this ranch house with a "formal" living / dining room on the front (north side). That "formal" room was always cordoned off since it was "reserved for social gatherings".
Our TV consumption was interrupted when we heard something that sounded like a knocking on our front door (which was only accessible through the living / dining room). My mother noticed it first. This motivated me to investigate.
I remember just as soon as I breached the "formal" part of our abode, I heard a very loud banging on our front door along with muffled cries from someone on the opposite side. The solid core door had an arched glass window close to its head, but it was too tall to see out of. Nor were there any windows within close proximity to peer through prior to opening the door. I wasn't sure how to proceed so I hesitated.
I remember clearly the harsh white light streaming through that arched door window into the dark living / dining room. The source of that light was the ground mounted PAR lamp out in front of our door. This cheap lighting stunt was the typical suburban attempt to ring in the season by highlighting your home's Xmas entrance décor. At this point in time, I found myself leaning against the back of the door attempting to hear more from the other side, wishing all the while that my father were home to handle this (more and more) frightening situation.
-------------------------
So, I eventually opened the door, and what I witnessed changed my perception of Xmas forever.
-------------------------
An athletically built white teenager was crouching on our stoop in obvious emotional and physical distress. There was no doubt in my mind that he needed help, but in that moment, as we stared at one another, neither of us could even begin to fathom how best to clearly articulate anything of any substance. Nonetheless, this strange teen he'd ended up at our door, and he looked to be on the run from something or someone. And here I was peering out at him awestruck.
The next thing I remember was a station wagon coming to a screeching halt at the STOP sign in front of our house. It slid to a stop due to the street being slick from an early evening rain. When I attempted to take a closer look at it, despite the harsh glare of the floodlight, I made out the driver frantically exiting the vehicle right there in the street. The man rushed around the back of the car before sprinting towards the teenage boy through our small front yard.
All the while, the boy was continuing to plead for help, but when he became aware of his impending doom, his pleas turned to stark panic. At this point, time seemed to stand still, and I became frozen as I watched this bizarre scene unfold.
Within seconds, the man had the boy by the back of his coat, lifting him with ease off of our front stoop. From there, he dragged him back to the station wagon prior to tossing him into the backseat. The teenage boy went kicking and screaming all the way as the man repeatedly punched him in the head with his fist as he yelled obscenities at him.
Then I remember the car speeding away, but only after the man glared back at me right before opening the driver side door. What little I could make out of his looking at me was a combination of both threat and satisfaction.
By now, my mother was also in our front room, standing silently not far behind. From what I recall, she only witnessed what she could see from within the room itself. Eventually, I turned back to her, and we found ourselves standing there in stunned silence for a few seconds wondering what exactly had just happened.
-------------------------
This was no doubt a once in a lifetime event. Madison, at the time, was countryside. Few people lived there, and those that did were church-going, lower to lower-middle class folks. Even today, I wonder why this boy picked our house to look for help, and of course, the greater question is why didn't I choose to respond in lieu of simply standing there like a pansy? It would have been so easy to simply let him inside our house, locking the door behind us. There was plenty of time for me to execute a rescue.
-------------------------
My mother and I continued to look at each other without saying a word, and from there, both of us did the most shameful thing I care to admit to here. We returned to the den on the east side of the house prior to locking the front door and settled back in to watching television on our 19" Toshiba CRT. There was no telephone call to law enforcement. No discussion regarding the incident with my father. Nothing. The event was treated by us as if it had actually only existed as part of our TV programming.
Why?
Because we were too busy existing within our facade, and what we had just been sucked into didn't "fit" within that artificial construct. And this reflects perfectly of my entire growing up years and how shallow they truly were. It was like living within a Norman Rockwell painting in so many ways. A very deeply unoriginal Norman Rockwell painting.
-------------------------
Xmas is a harsh, difficult, uncaring, brutally wicked time of year for so many folks, and all of these negative superlatives seem to only ramp up during the holidays in contrast to the traditional merrymaking. But, this ugly truth is so often hidden from view until you have it show up on your suburban doorstep.
If this reality decrees itself within your world during this Xmas season, don't cower away as I chose to do. Instead, come to the rescue of those in need. Open the damn door, swing it wide, and let the suffering inside for safe keeping. To hell with the devils of this world, but especially here at Xmas.
In the past, it was consumerism that fed this pursuit of lifestyle facade construction, but today, it's also social media and any / all forms of technology that serve to buttress our camouflage.
The end-of-the-year holiday season can serve to ramp up that work on said facades when in actuality, there's tremendous experiential pain going on behind the scenes. I became aware of this as a teen right around this time of year when there presented itself a breach in my serendipitous reality one Xmas eve. Read on.
-------------------------
When I was a boy, my father spent Thursdays out of town (in the MS Delta) for business, and often wouldn't return home 'till late Thursday night. On one particular Thursday night where he was absent from the homestead, my mother and I were spending the evening watching Christmas television programming in the den (or TV room). The home in Madison I was reared within was +/-1,800 square feet, therefore like the abode I reside in today, a loud enough yell or scream would easily resonate throughout. The den was on the east end of this ranch house with a "formal" living / dining room on the front (north side). That "formal" room was always cordoned off since it was "reserved for social gatherings".
Our TV consumption was interrupted when we heard something that sounded like a knocking on our front door (which was only accessible through the living / dining room). My mother noticed it first. This motivated me to investigate.
I remember just as soon as I breached the "formal" part of our abode, I heard a very loud banging on our front door along with muffled cries from someone on the opposite side. The solid core door had an arched glass window close to its head, but it was too tall to see out of. Nor were there any windows within close proximity to peer through prior to opening the door. I wasn't sure how to proceed so I hesitated.
I remember clearly the harsh white light streaming through that arched door window into the dark living / dining room. The source of that light was the ground mounted PAR lamp out in front of our door. This cheap lighting stunt was the typical suburban attempt to ring in the season by highlighting your home's Xmas entrance décor. At this point in time, I found myself leaning against the back of the door attempting to hear more from the other side, wishing all the while that my father were home to handle this (more and more) frightening situation.
-------------------------
So, I eventually opened the door, and what I witnessed changed my perception of Xmas forever.
-------------------------
An athletically built white teenager was crouching on our stoop in obvious emotional and physical distress. There was no doubt in my mind that he needed help, but in that moment, as we stared at one another, neither of us could even begin to fathom how best to clearly articulate anything of any substance. Nonetheless, this strange teen he'd ended up at our door, and he looked to be on the run from something or someone. And here I was peering out at him awestruck.
The next thing I remember was a station wagon coming to a screeching halt at the STOP sign in front of our house. It slid to a stop due to the street being slick from an early evening rain. When I attempted to take a closer look at it, despite the harsh glare of the floodlight, I made out the driver frantically exiting the vehicle right there in the street. The man rushed around the back of the car before sprinting towards the teenage boy through our small front yard.
All the while, the boy was continuing to plead for help, but when he became aware of his impending doom, his pleas turned to stark panic. At this point, time seemed to stand still, and I became frozen as I watched this bizarre scene unfold.
Within seconds, the man had the boy by the back of his coat, lifting him with ease off of our front stoop. From there, he dragged him back to the station wagon prior to tossing him into the backseat. The teenage boy went kicking and screaming all the way as the man repeatedly punched him in the head with his fist as he yelled obscenities at him.
Then I remember the car speeding away, but only after the man glared back at me right before opening the driver side door. What little I could make out of his looking at me was a combination of both threat and satisfaction.
By now, my mother was also in our front room, standing silently not far behind. From what I recall, she only witnessed what she could see from within the room itself. Eventually, I turned back to her, and we found ourselves standing there in stunned silence for a few seconds wondering what exactly had just happened.
-------------------------
This was no doubt a once in a lifetime event. Madison, at the time, was countryside. Few people lived there, and those that did were church-going, lower to lower-middle class folks. Even today, I wonder why this boy picked our house to look for help, and of course, the greater question is why didn't I choose to respond in lieu of simply standing there like a pansy? It would have been so easy to simply let him inside our house, locking the door behind us. There was plenty of time for me to execute a rescue.
-------------------------
My mother and I continued to look at each other without saying a word, and from there, both of us did the most shameful thing I care to admit to here. We returned to the den on the east side of the house prior to locking the front door and settled back in to watching television on our 19" Toshiba CRT. There was no telephone call to law enforcement. No discussion regarding the incident with my father. Nothing. The event was treated by us as if it had actually only existed as part of our TV programming.
Why?
Because we were too busy existing within our facade, and what we had just been sucked into didn't "fit" within that artificial construct. And this reflects perfectly of my entire growing up years and how shallow they truly were. It was like living within a Norman Rockwell painting in so many ways. A very deeply unoriginal Norman Rockwell painting.
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Xmas is a harsh, difficult, uncaring, brutally wicked time of year for so many folks, and all of these negative superlatives seem to only ramp up during the holidays in contrast to the traditional merrymaking. But, this ugly truth is so often hidden from view until you have it show up on your suburban doorstep.
If this reality decrees itself within your world during this Xmas season, don't cower away as I chose to do. Instead, come to the rescue of those in need. Open the damn door, swing it wide, and let the suffering inside for safe keeping. To hell with the devils of this world, but especially here at Xmas.
Monday, December 16, 2019
“They say, I’ve been masturbating to you all these years,” she says. “And you know, that’s a feat that I will be proud of.”
Sexual fantasy is sin. If you're concerned about sin, you'll avoid sexual fantasy, but this is quite a difficult feat if your sexual fantasies were seeded within your childhood entertainment.
The link below should be clicked with discretion, but I felt compelled to include it here to sound a multi-faceted alarm.
https://nypost.com/2019/12/16/boy-meets-world-star-maitland-ward-i-make-more-money-doing-porn/
Firstly, many beautiful women are manipulated / deceived by the notion of their value being tied to the size of their breasts / ass and the subsequent reactions from flaunting said physical assets . Despite this, they're no less excused from damnation to hell.
Secondly, boys are supposed to grow to become men, and it is their understanding / knowledge of their God-given sexuality through puberty that will assist them to mature into manhood (where boyish behaviors are left behind).
Thirdly, monetary wealth is the ultimate goal of most everyone on Earth, and the accumulation of it - so long as it's legal - is absolutely blind to responsibility relative to one's fellow man, society, culture, etc.
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If there were no Bible and therefore no knowledge of God other than through nature and our own internal "God compass", we could look at this story and perhaps laugh it off (maybe prior to getting off).
But there is God's word, and it's really clear relative to sexual sin. Lust, fornication, homosexuality, adultery, etc. All of these will land you in hell. It's as simple as that.
Remember, Jesus talked about the "H word" more than anyone in Scripture, according to the gospels.
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Back when Angie and I were a young married couple, one of our Sunday School teachers likened being in heaven to having a continual orgasm for eternity. He believed it would be that pleasurable. Of course, that drew a number of awkward chuckles from our group.
What it left me to wonder about though was what hell might be like in turn.
God expects his children to grow up in their faith, leaving behind boyhood sin and embracing a trans-formative, new life.
Take a few minutes today to pray for Ms. Ward. I have no doubt there's hope for her still.
The link below should be clicked with discretion, but I felt compelled to include it here to sound a multi-faceted alarm.
https://nypost.com/2019/12/16/boy-meets-world-star-maitland-ward-i-make-more-money-doing-porn/
Firstly, many beautiful women are manipulated / deceived by the notion of their value being tied to the size of their breasts / ass and the subsequent reactions from flaunting said physical assets . Despite this, they're no less excused from damnation to hell.
Secondly, boys are supposed to grow to become men, and it is their understanding / knowledge of their God-given sexuality through puberty that will assist them to mature into manhood (where boyish behaviors are left behind).
Thirdly, monetary wealth is the ultimate goal of most everyone on Earth, and the accumulation of it - so long as it's legal - is absolutely blind to responsibility relative to one's fellow man, society, culture, etc.
-------------------------
If there were no Bible and therefore no knowledge of God other than through nature and our own internal "God compass", we could look at this story and perhaps laugh it off (maybe prior to getting off).
But there is God's word, and it's really clear relative to sexual sin. Lust, fornication, homosexuality, adultery, etc. All of these will land you in hell. It's as simple as that.
Remember, Jesus talked about the "H word" more than anyone in Scripture, according to the gospels.
-------------------------
Back when Angie and I were a young married couple, one of our Sunday School teachers likened being in heaven to having a continual orgasm for eternity. He believed it would be that pleasurable. Of course, that drew a number of awkward chuckles from our group.
What it left me to wonder about though was what hell might be like in turn.
God expects his children to grow up in their faith, leaving behind boyhood sin and embracing a trans-formative, new life.
Take a few minutes today to pray for Ms. Ward. I have no doubt there's hope for her still.
Sunday, December 15, 2019
The Journey To Recovery (Authored by my old friend, Chris Inman)
All of us, at one time or another, entered into this journey we call recovery. We arrived at different times in our lives and under different circumstances, but we are here. But what does the recovery journey look like?
Thankfully we have the musings of Nate, Aaron and others on the Pirate Monk Podcast to help us consider how we can struggle well as we seek healing in our behavior and our hearts. But for those who are just getting started,
or have lost their way along the journey, here are a few ideas about how to structure our lives as as we seek to recover from the brokenness of the past:
Community - The first place I found a safe and accepting group of men was during a men’s retreat in April 2012. I grew up the church and learned well how to play the religious game. On the outside I was a saint, but in my soul,
I was ashamed of my sin. There was no safe place to take this shame, until my experience with male community. The freedom that I found there to be myself, without fear of shame or rejection, was exhilarating. (I hope all of you have had that experience.) After
that retreat I thought I was healed — but that was just a feeling. What I missed in that first experience that I have since learned is that connection is not only the place we get well, but the place we stay well. I am responsible for my own life, but I cannot
live as God intended alone. I need the fellowship of others help me own my journey. That is why many find the community at weekly Samson meetings so helpful.
Vulnerability - Growing up in a broken home, I was desperate for people to see me. I would do or say almost anything to get the approval of others. (That included lying to make my life look more significant — a habit I took
into adulthood at great cost.) And while I longed to be known, I was never truly vulnerable. Would I overshare? Yes. Was I needy? Of course. But the truth was that while I longed for others to know me, I did not know myself. My efforts to be seen were a coping
mechanism for a deeper wound. I wanted to be loved, just for who I was. It was not until I learned the value of being vulnerable in a safe place that I truly experienced love. As I share my broken parts, sometimes in detail, with another man who empathizes
with me and reflects God’s love back to me, a little part of that lonely boy is healed. This happens over and over again as I sit with men on the recovery journey. And the more vulnerable I am, the more strength I have to walk the path. Jesus said that, not
me.
Structure - I love to fly by the seat of pants. Things just seem more fun that way. I know there are many who are terrified by that idea. But that’s how I roll. And that’s also how I struggle. Without structure in my life, I
am prone to rationalizing my behavior, falling into destructive habits and overall wasting my time. I thought that getting a fulfilling job, or getting married, would give me the structure I needed stop my porn problem. I was wrong. Not that responsibilities
and relationships aren’t helpful in some way. But they are only helpful after I learn to establish healthy structures in my personal life. Nate shared recently about the structures his sponsor encouraged him to begin as he sought to walk his recovery
journey. Keep a hour-by-hour schedule, vigorous exercise, self reflection through journaling, the daily phone call to a Silas, were all healthy habits he began when he got serious about recovery. I know in my efforts to ‘fix myself’ I never developed structures
like that in my personal life. I am finding them so helpful now, not only in recovering myself, but also in staying sober.
A final note on sobriety (a topic of discussion I hope you have had in your group) — it is impossible to maintain sobriety without recovery. Sure, you can ‘white knuckle’ your sobriety for a while, but the underlying habits
and beliefs that lead to your addictive behavior are still there. Without walking the path of recovery, the old demons that lead to your struggle will inevitably return. We need a new way of living, a way of grace and the gospel of Jesus Christ, in order to
heal. I pray you have begun to experience that in your recovery journey.
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