Denying Yourself & Making Faithfulness (To Christ) Your Highest Priority

Losing my campus architect job from Delta State University proved devastating to me emotionally.  For it was an environment I found challenging, energetic and perfectly suited for someone of my professional skillset (plus it was my dad's alma mater).  I cannot overstate here how satisfied I was with this administrative position.  It was September of 2013 when the termination occurred, right around this time of year (late summer transitioning into early fall).  Though I'd only been employed there for one year, I'd spent countless hours of overtime (mostly weekends) shoring up the position of Campus Architect (at the expense of my family / personal life), all of which had resulted in some needed stability / restored confidence within the Physical Plant. 

Post termination (the following day), I immediately took the necessary steps to become an employee of my parents' Jackson, Mississippi business.  The work I'd be doing there wasn't at all of interest to me nor was I trained therein (I pursued a degree in architecture in college in order to eventually become registered as such).  Too, I knew going in that working for them would result in me feeling washed up, settled, and emasculated (which it did).  Spelled out as F-A-I-L-U-R-E.  

The devastation was centered on how obvious it quickly became that I was not at all well-suited working on a college campus, particularly within a Physical Plant setting.  Why?  As an intensely (at the time) same-sex attracted 40-year-old man, I was overwhelmed with the testosterone / muscled masculinity that was constantly on display for me to interact with.  And, to make matters that much more challenging, all these men wore athletically cut, short-sleeved uniforms that accentuated these glorious physical attributes.  And I cannot underestimate that word:  glorious.  Damn, it was fucking glorious.  Not unlike working on a gay porn film set each and every day.  

Yet, in the midst of all this, I had zero support relative to my story.  Even though I'd shared it in so many words with our pastor / associate pastor (whilst also pointing them to my personal blog).  They proved to be no help at all to me personally.  And I did even reach a point of directly asking for help.  

Taking all this into account, it was no doubt an unworkable situation.  Rob was completely isolated and far from home.  All the while, feeling SO MUCH shame relative to his sexual orientation.

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Imagine being Samus Aran but not fitting at all comfortably (due to the size of your frame) into your varia suit.  No matter how hard you'd tried.  Therefore, you attempt to bounty hunt sans suit, but you keep getting your ass kicked.  Plus, you're unable to morph into that cool morph ball which therefore limits your mobility.  

As such, you're disqualified.  No more bounty hunting.  Not without the varia suit.  It is an integral part of your work.

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At age thirteen, whilst being lassoed in by the gospel, I knew denial of myself would be an absolute.  And at this age, I actually gravitated towards this mindset for I found zero value within Rob.  Not to mention I was scared shitless of landing in hell for my propensity (even at this tender age) to lust. Immediately, Jesus made sense as both a savior and guide, and I understood my need for both.  

There was no one to confide in during my teen years relative to my sexuality.  In tandem with that was how emotionally starved I was both at home and platonically.  Therefore, "rescue" came via lustful sexual fantasies, all of which were homosexual in nature.  Often, these fantasies involved men / older boys that were within my sphere of influence (school / work / church).  They pursued Rob with a vengeance within these fantasies, and in many ways, it served as a temporary suave to my hurting / lonely heart (which was always left behind with biting guilt).  

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One thing I'm most proud of relative to my position at Delta State University was my choosing to not entertain sexual fantasies around any of the hot men that worked under me.  As such, this put me in quite the private pressure-valve situation.  For I didn't want to use them, but at the same time, I was exceedingly sexual attracted to a number of them. 

And this is where oversharing on my personal blog came in handy along with consuming gay porn (all executed on my work desktop PC, thereby breaking the university's IT policy).  For it provided some temporary emotional relief.

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After my initial +/-3 years of being involved in the Jackson, Mississippi Samson Society group (August 2014 - May 2017), the Holy Spirit clearly punctuated my love for men by dubbing me a "men's minister".  This happened immediately following a retreat that Mr. Don Waller had organized for our (then singular) group in beautiful Highlands, NC.  I'll likely never forget the day this occurred.  It was a rainy weekday afternoon while both of my 'rents were out of the office.

This title wasn't something that felt earned.  Instead, it seemed (at the time) so much more prophetic in nature than anything else.  And it truly was, though even today, all these years later, I in no way feel I've "risen" to that mantel.  

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My experience at Delta State University was perfectly orchestrated by God to prepare me for what's been set within my line of sight today as a "men's minister" (whatever that means).  For I know firsthand what it is to experience devastation via the realization that you're not qualified to pursue what, by the numbers / book, looks to be a perfect fit for you (taking your credentials, experience, availability into account).  

Being a same-sex attracted man has crippled me.  There's no doubt about it.  It has, in many ways, robbed me of (vocational) glory I've longed to be identified by.  But, none of this is overly surprising to Rob, especially whilst looking back.

What is mind-blowing is how tenderly God's nurtured me through all this fallout.  He's been consistent in his love as each month propels me further and further away from what went down in September 2013.

Thanks be to God for his goodness and mercy, and thanks too for the Jackson Mississippi Samson Society and its role in launching me into this community of men.   

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Freedom To Outmaneuver Political Extremists (Why I'll Likely Never Attend Another Face-To-Face - In Mississippi Or Anywhere Else - Samson Society Meeting)

I don't feel comfortable around political extremists.  Especially within Samson Society.  I realize that everyone has a right to their opinion on politics, and that the amount of time / energy they devote therein is their business, but these folks creep me out (& especially so if they're professing Christians).

During my four-year tenure facilitating the Lakeside Pres Samson Society meeting, I found myself face-to-face with one of these individuals when he boasted of participating in the January 6, 2021 election protest at the US Capitol (he executed this boasting the Saturday immediately following its occurrence).  Though he himself (according to his personal narrative) didn't join in with his fellow protestors and storm the building, just knowing that he'd hooked up with other extremists via social media, carpooled to Washington D.C. and joined in the protest really unsettled me.  

This Samson brother had been faithful to our face-to-face group almost since its inception.  Overall, he was no "odder" than any other Samson guy, and as such, this development really put me between a rock and a hard place.  I remember simply having my synapses charred when he boasted of what he'd participated in (either during the meeting itself or the after-meeting) since all of us at the time were still emotionally overwhelmed with what actually had occurred as a result of the insurrection itself.

And, I will admit, whilst looking back, that I had prior to this fateful day / Samson Society meeting insisted that he forgo the political rhetoric during his share time.  And each time I needed to do so (which wasn't all that often), he'd respectfully comply.  Keep in mind that this man was very intelligent / articulate (typical Samson guy).  A guy who landed here in MS (20+) years ago from New York (his childhood home) by way of California.

Yet, what was I to do?  Ask that this longtime friend remove himself from our group?  

Americans certainly have a right to protest, and that's all he'd done.  There was no denying that.

Yet, it was the boasting of his participation therein that changed my mind completely.  Especially considering what grew out of said protests.

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One of the primary advantages of virtual Samson Society meetings (via Zoom) is down in the right-hand corner of the screen.  Therein resides the "Leave Meeting" red button.  I've taken note of a number of Samson guys over the past eight months who've made a discreet exit from "Make Thursdays Great Again" via this button.

Some of these men (if I've befriended them), I'll follow-up with afterwards.  Most don't volunteer a motive for leaving prior to the meeting's conclusion, but my guess is, it has something to do with someone else's presence.

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There's no way to control who attends a Samson Society meeting.  It's open door, baby, and that's the way that it should be.  But with the multitude of virtual Samson Society meetings available to frequent, leaving one meeting behind and jumping onto another (a few hours later) is of expedient convenience.  Plus, it can be done with discretion (if the group is sizable).  

I like that.  A lot.  Especially considering my aforementioned rock & a hard place experience (with certain individuals) within face-to-face meetings.

And not just for my sake but for the sake of others.  For I know there're plenty of Samson brothers out there who reflexively reach for that "Leave Meeting" button when they spot Mississippi Rob. 

You simply cannot do that within a face-to-face paradigm.  And that, in my opinion, is unfortunate.

"Will I Remember?" - Garry Eoff

 

Will I remember life as a boy after I have grown older, turning from a young man as I cross the boundaries of adolescence to manhood?  Will I remember the springs of Grandpa Mc and the memories may become useless to the thoughts and desires of a man, one day I will be?

The water source, I am told, never stops flowing, the eternal fountain of youth that Balboa looked for is mine, all mine, for no one has yet to find this hiding place.

 

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Today, I have rearranged my campground with my hammock strung between two cedars, silent sentries of my pond.  It is here that I am ready to sleep and allow the day’s labors of setting up camp, drip off of me as the netting of the cocoon holds me in a tight embrace.  It is here that in my dreams there are lands to conquer and mine to lay control.  As the years go by and I cross the boundaries into manhood, will I remember?

 

The day dawns as the morning light pries my eyes open with the red-tailed hawk calling with authority of his power and might to earth’s creatures far below.  Will I claim more land for Grandpa Mc as I plow the day before me, following the springs to the land below?  What unknown force seeks to keep me from doing so?

I sit here on the rocks below my hammock with coffee in hand, the sound of the trickling stream accompanying my thoughts.  Alone with no one but God and His world around, enfolding me, my thoughts now roam to a year from now, five, then, twenty, thirty plus more years and I wonder, will that man, me, remember this day, this moment in time when Grandpa Mc made me ruler of all lands both near and far?  In the meantime, here I am, staff in hand, surveying my pond, my ocean of water to tame. 

Kneeling, he stares at his reflection and gazes at the boy as he waits to cross the boundaries into manhood and wonders, will he remember this time and place he calls his kingdom and wonder aloud once again, will he remember?  The answer he believes will be, “Yes! I will!

This was written after visiting Kent Bogle on his ranch outside of Trent, Tx. As a boy, Kent wandered the countryside exploring the 27,000 acre ranch that was acquired by his great-grandfather Mr. and Mrs. McLain. It is here that memories were made, and memories continue to be made. Although well beyond the childhood years, the experiences had on the ranch are still vivid in his memory. This writing tells of my interpretation of what Kent has shared with me.

If A Husband Demands That His Wife Deactivate Her Social Media Accounts, Is She Obligated To?

Similarly, if a husband demands that his wife not wear leggings, should she be obligated to obey / yield to his demands?

Too, (just one more) is it okay for a wife to leave her family's church (due to her unhappiness with the preaching style / content) in order to begin attending another church on her own?  It's important to note that she'd be doing so in spite of her husband being an upstanding elder of their church.

Yikes.  These are tough questions that need some serious context prior to attempting to answer.  That being said, I don't have any context, therefore here're some succinct answers:  

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Regarding social media account deactivation, she's only obligated to do so if he's done so firstly.

Regarding leggings, I have no idea how to answer this one.  I do know that it's important to keep in mind that clothing trends are not static, and that it cannot be assumed that the majority of men find women's asses to be their number one turnon.

Regarding her abandoning the family's church, I suspect there's an underlying issue here that's desperately needing to be addressed.  An issue(s) that's compelled her to rebel to this extent.  Seek out that issue and loop in professional / pastoral help (assuming she'll cooperate) if need be.

Lagniappe

"The Conditions Of Love" - JR Everhart

I’ve recently had a revelation about how men receive love.  It seems that for the most part, men are only loved when they are providing a service.  I know men are supposed to be providers, and I guess even in our modern times of enlightened thinking, we still haven’t shaken this off.  Considering that, your family may love you unconditionally, but I personally don’t believe in unconditional love inside the human experience.  Even your family has conditions to loving you. 

We have to understand that love on this earth is feeble and very conditional.  The only love I’ve ever experienced that’s stood the test of time it the love of my Heavenly Father.  Jesus is the only person that ever walked this earth that truly loved me.  Even when I couldn’t love myself.  People will display random acts of love toward me here-or-there, but it’s rarely anything with depth.  What's typical is for individuals to get in my "good graces" because I can provide them something for later on down the road or in response to something I did for them in the past.  Earthly love has such a cause-and-effect structure to it that once you realize that routine, it robs you of all the warm fuzzies around said act of love.  Solomon said “with much wisdom, comes much sorrow…”  I’m someone who intrinsically struggles to believe people love me, realizing the "service model" to earthly love only pours gasoline on that fire.  It’s sad because even when I’ve felt the warm fuzzies of romantic love - those that happen during the infant stages of courtship, it still looks like it was just leading to the service structure of love.  Maybe that’s the only way we as humans can experience love?  In order to test this, to receive something, we need to receive love from someone that doesn’t owe us anything. That’s how Christ’s love resonates in my life.  He loved me even when I was a rebellious sinner. Realizing that love changed my life, but only because I could see how important his service at the cross - on my behalf - was to my salvation.  Another question:  Do I feel Jesus’ love because he loved me, or because he provided the service of redemption to me?  I don’t claim to have answers to all this, I just like asking the questions that get me thinking… 

I honestly try to live my life as if there were no heaven or hell.  So I’m not trying to escape hell or work toward heaven's blessing, but just enjoy the relationship with my Savior.  I try to live from a place of appreciation for what Jesus has done for me.  This is why I feel so worthless when I fail because disobedience has always been deeply connected to an immediate detachment from being loved.  I can’t help but feel unloved or even unlovable when I sin and break Gods standards in my life.  I think the enemy uses this against us constantly, and if he can convince us that God only loves us when we’re doing everything right, then we will naturally experience that inevitable detachment from God.  Guilt and shame will always bare witness with our flesh.  Guilt and shame are the creepy candy coating on worthlessness.  Truly believing you have no value or purpose.  But this does not reflect the character of God.  It’s our dysfunctional thinking that tries to recreate God as petty and vindictive as we are.  We are so stuck in the service-based love mindset that we struggle to believe God could love someone so rebellious and prideful as we are.  This toxic thinking is imprinted on our psychological DNA from the trauma of our childhoods, abandonment of our romantic relationships as adults, and overall views formed by the service-based society we live in. Society is the first to say “if you're not providing a service, you don’t deserve to eat or have any form of happiness.  Only the strong survive!” Therefore, knowing this, is it any wonder we struggle to trust God so much?  It’s only through Bible study and prayer, that we keep our God-centered love compass correctly calibrated.  God is not one of us, therefore he loves beyond anything we will ever be able to understand in this world and most likely the next.  As for navigating love inside the human experience… I think we have to come to peace with what it is.  Human love is conditional acceptance based on providing support to others that may or may not reciprocate that support.  At times it’s wonderful, but risk of getting hurt or even victimized is just part of that paradigm here on Earth.  Earthly love is impossible without this risk.