Connections

All my life, I’ve had a desire to connect with people. I’ve often tried to fulfill it in all the wrong ways. I still struggle with that at times. It fueled my co-dependency, driving me to cling to people who were bad for me because we had a connection. As I’ve broken ties with a lot of those people over the last couple of years, and even just held back from others, it has often left a void that I wasn’t sure how to fill.

We have three identical services at my church every weekend. Every weekend I go to at least two of them, often all three. It’s not because I need to hear the message again, not just because I LOVE our praise and worship. It’s because I love people. I want to be around them. I want to connect.

I spoke at an event for single moms on Saturday. The experience was amazing. Afterwards I was stopped again and again by women who wanted to tell me how my story touched them. Each time, I felt a connection. It wasn’t even just about being a single mom. Sometimes it was a look in their eyes or a comment they made, but when they stopped me I knew that something I had said connected with them.

When a friend recently confided in me about how someone else’s porn addiction was affecting her, my own experiences gave me the ability to understand the pain they both go through. I hope to be able to continue to encourage her in a way others can’t because of that connection.

When I talk other parents who have children with disabilities, though our children may have completely different issues, we understand each other about a lot of things. There is a connection.

This weekend I was reminded again and again that there is a purpose in everything. There is a reason that I am doing all of this, that I have gone and am going through all of these things. Over and over, as I interact with others, I am seeing the connections.

He isn’t just reminding me “You aren’t alone in this struggle.” He is saying, “Your fight in this is connecting you to these people, enabling you to touch their lives in a way you couldn’t before.”

I’ve suddenly become aware that God has put this desire for connection within me. I may have been doing it wrong, but He had a reason for making me who I am.

I can doubt. I can tell Him He’s got the wrong girl. I can say, “I’m not special...” But when I do work for Him and walk away feeling fulfilled and connected, it reminds me that all of this is for a reason. Seeing Him use me for His purposes and fulfill the desires of my heart at the same time reminds me that I was created for this.

Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you your heart’s desires.
Commit everything you do to the Lord.
Trust him, and he will help you.He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn,
and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.
Psalms 37:4-6

Apples

The apple hanging in that tree
in the middle of The Garden was
the perfect shade of the perfect color.
Just a look at it and she knew
it was going to be delicious.
The biggest, unblemished,
juiciest apple,
to ever ruin a life... 
she ignored that last line.

She was warned.
We have been too.

You know you aren't
supposed to eat the apple.
You know you shouldn't
even think about it.
You know you shouldn't
reach out towards it.
You know you shouldn't
see how close you can stand to it
without actually breaking the rules.

But we still do. Why?
 
Because it is just so perfect,
exactly what we think we want.

Perfect is subjective, isn't it?

Everybody's perfect apple
is a different shade, texture, flavor.
Hung in the spot on the tree that
puts it directly in their eye line.
We don't stop to wonder
how exactly it got there,
to just that spot where
we don't have to reach too high
or why the lights hit it just so
to give it that enticing shine.

The enemy knows
whether you like Red Delicious
or Granny Smith or Fuji apples.
He knows you've been told
to stay away from them
but enjoys reminding you
how much you used to love your apples. 

Drugs, alcohol, sex, porn,
rage, food, greed, lies, laziness
all dangling apples
all right within reach.
They seem to be the perfect shade
of the perfect color, of the best kind.
Just a look at it and you know
it is going to be delicious.

The biggest, unblemished,
juiciest apples,
to ever ruin a life...
Don't ignore that last line.

Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.
Matthew 26:41

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
James 1:2-4

No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.
1 Corinthians 10:13

She said

He raped her while she slept.
She told the story
like it was no big deal.
He was a pig,
lucky she didn't press charges
it happened
but it's in the past.


Our stories are very different
in some ways
but not all.


Still,
I didn't feel guilt
coming from her.
I didn't feel pain.
I didn't feel self-loathing
seeping through her words...
Just a matter-of-fact story.


If other people can shrug it off, why can't I?


(added later) I think maybe it's because I still hate him, regardless of the details....

Funny how many of the stories I used to write included that "rape fantasy" where she said she didn't want it, but she really did. Before I understood the reality.

In reality it's a whole different ball game.

Defining moments

Remember when I wrote about how important a definition can be?

Here are a couple of other words I needed to pick apart and define.

Prostitution
in simple terms
is trading sex for money.
I wrote before how
God protected me
from that.
But really,
When I think of all the times
I traded sex
for a few smiles
for a few laughs
for a few hugs,
or just to feel attractive,
desired for a few moments...
or, so many times,
for an arm around me while I slept,
I realize that I was still a prostitute... I just had a flexible payment plan.

I almost did it again this weekend.
Sent a text to a guy
who I knew would lie to me
and say that he missed me
and tell me I am beautiful
even though I hadn't heard from him in months
just because I knew
he would stay the whole night
and snuggle up close.

It didn't work out. Thank God.

I was going to give up on a promise
that I really do take very seriously
just so I didn't have to sleep
alone.

While I don't want to dwell on mistakes that I almost made, picking all of this apart tells me something very important.

I am not a sex addict.
Sex addicts are addicted
to sex, porn, the chase, the act.
Not to being touched
and held
and cuddled
and feeling special
even if it's just for a moment.
Sex addicts separate their feelings
from their actions.
I never did.
Not one time.
Even when I purposely tried.
I couldn't stop feeling.
But they could...
and did.
So I moved on to the next
lying smile...
you wouldn't believe the lies I've heard
and accepted when I knew better.
because I didn't care
that he was lying
as long as he was lying next to me...
I could always convince myself it was worth it... what did I have to lose?

Now I'm thinking, with clarity
not in my emotion
not in my pain
not in my intoxication
and I realize that
I was going to give up on a promise
that I really do take very seriously
just so I didn't have to sleep
alone.
And I know it wouldn't have been worth it...
I am determined to reclaim all that I didn't realize I had to lose in the first place.

Search and destroy or let it go?

So as I wrote through the last several posts,
it began to bother me that the stories and poems I used to write
are still out there for people to read.

It's funny how difficult it is to call it what it is...
but I know I have to take a hard line with this.
I know that if I let the lines get blurred
then things that are not okay will become "okay" again...
If not for me, then for someone else...

So once again... Porn. I'm talking about porn.

It doesn't have to be a video. There doesn't have to be a picture. No audio is necessary.
It can be 100% written words, but it is what it is...
   glorification of lust, degradation, abuse, lack of self worth, rape, disrespect, and so much more... all written in a way that suddenly makes it "acceptable" to the reader. Even those romance novels that my grandma used to keep in the back closet that ended with "true love" but were full of those other things...

     It is still porn.

As for the stuff I wrote...
There is nothing out there even remotely connected to my name.
Nobody will ever know any of it was mine
     except for one person who knew about one story...
          but seeing as he was the guy I wrote about in Trashcan,
I doubt it will ever come up again.

Still, I thought that maybe I should go and have the stories taken down. Then I could delete them and never think about them again...

Problem... In an attempt to find the stories I wanted deleted forever... I came face to face with a lot... A LOT... of stuff I work hard to avoid these days.

So I think I'm going to give up on that.
I'm going to pray nobody I know ever reads the
things I came to think were 'normal' and 'fun'...
     maybe they can be super-naturally deleted from cyberspace.

Praying for a lot of grace over these... not sure what else to do.

Thinking about how these were part of "the process" that I need to forgive...
but I don't know yet if I can...
this part of me might be too broken...
I can be sorry for things I know are wrong, and attempt to erase them... but the truth is, if I hadn't forced myself to stop reading and writing this kind of stuff... if I didn't know it isn't pleasing to God... I would still enjoy it very much... and what does that say about my character?

It can't be good.

No, I Don't Really Want to Have this Conversation

No, I don't really want to have this conversation, but what is the point of a blog that helps hold me accountable if I only put the things in it I actually want to talk about? Plus, I have been getting the feeling that God wants me to be comfortable with this topic. (Really? Me? Seriously?)

Let's start here... I recently had to define this word for someone I know and love. Why? Because sometimes something as simple as the real definition of a word can help someone you love triumph over sin. Because until they know the true definition of that word, it is easy to say "Oh, this isn't that... that is something way worse than this... what I am doing is still on the edge of okay..."

Confused yet?

Porn. I'm talking about porn.

What is the definition of pornography? As I explained it to this someone, it goes like this... Porn is the visual, audio, or written description or depiction of anyone in a real or simulated sexual situation whether they are alone or with one or more other people of the same or opposite gender.

Wow, right? That covers a lot of stuff...

Erotic literature. Pictures. Videos. Most late night television. Definitely the VMA awards... but I'm not writing about Miley here...

So, why was it so important to share with this person that it is a slippery slope from reading semi-erotic literature created mostly by teens who have no clue what they are talking about to an all out porn addiction?

Because I know.

I could write about exes with problems. I could write about friends with problems. I could easily use other peoples' lives to say that pornography is evil, addictive and has the capacity to ruin every relationship you'll ever have... but if I can use examples from my own life I probably should.

For me, porn twisted my sense of normalcy. If what was happening on the screen or in the story I was reading (and eventually writing) was normal... then if someone asked me to do it or even go a step further... of course I should, right? Even if I didn't enjoy it. Even if I was disgusted. Even if I was embarrassed. Even if it just felt wrong. If I said "No" then someone might think there was something wrong with me. Right? Eventually... all those silly feelings went away and it all felt "normal."

Porn also messed with my idea of what was ideal. It furthered my confusion of love and sex. That love story was soooooooo romantic... yeah, he was disrespectful and that one time sort of bordered on rape... but, eventually they fell in love... so, it's all good. Right?

While only one ex boyfriend ever got angry at me for looking at (and writing) porn, there were several relationships where it was a problem for me because the other person was so obsessed with it. I can't say much more without it sounding like I'm telling other people's secrets... but at some point I decided that it must not be that bad. I'm sure another post is coming about what led to that decision... but that's not this one.

I honestly don't know that this could be called an addiction for me. I gave it up quite easily when I gave up sex... which you can read about here. More accurately, it was a symptom of my addiction.

Not that I didn't slip up... (with porn, not with sex.) I think it is clear to anyone who actually reads this blog (which I'm kinda hoping is nobody today) that I know I am a sinner... and I have a lot of work to do... but God used the last "slip-up" to open my eyes to what I was really seeing.

All of those things listed above are indeed porn, but my slip-up and my eye-opening experience resulting from that slip-up were due to a video on the internet. I'm sure I'll be writing about the other forms some time soon as well... *sigh*

The last time I watched an actual pornographic video, it was late at night. I was lonely and tired and sad and bored and restless... I just couldn't sleep. I grabbed my phone from the charger and went to a site I had been to plenty of times before in the past and picked a video at random. (Know that when God is trying to tell you something, nothing is ever random.)

The women and the man in this video were not American. The were saying things in English, but with very thick accents. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Then, suddenly, though the video did not change... I was watching an entirely different movie.

I started to cry.

These women were wearing clothes (barely) and makeup (lots) but it wasn't enough to hide the bruises up and down their legs and thighs... you can strategically place a hand anywhere to cover a single bruise... but there weren't enough hands on the set to cover these.
All of the sudden I realized that these were real people. I started imagining what they had been through to get those bruises and my chest started to hurt just thinking about their pain. I may be a baby when it comes to pain... but bruises hurt... Why were they being beaten? Was this something that happened all the time? What makes those kinds of bruises? Did they cry? Did they beg someone to stop? I don't know... but people don't voluntarily let themselves be bruised like that.


Let's forget that lust is a sin for just a second, and look at it this way.

Healthy, happy people don't make porn and share it with others.  Maybe they were those women I'd heard about who were sold into slavery for just this type of purpose. Maybe they were being forced to do this. Maybe they were just broke and needed the money. So many maybes...

Whether these men and women are being forced to do the things they are doing, or whether they are doing it because they are hurting, broken people... what kind of a person takes any kind of pleasure in watching someone in that situation do anything?

Yes, partaking in porn is a sin. Yes, I slipped up. Yes, I learned my lesson... so much so that it has taken me a little time to actually write about it... but it is a lesson that I will share if it makes someone else think before they click play.

And as I look back over all that I've said here, I see there really is too much for one blog post... but there may be a reason I have so much to say on this subject... and all subjects pertaining to sex... Remember this post? Well, these were the things that were ever-so-lightly touched upon in that article... the article where I knew I could "preach it" better than the woman who slid past all the dirty parts of these problems and just tried to smooth it all over with a pretty picture of Jesus...