[Part 6] Faithful to the Unfaithful

[WARNING: This entry contains rather open discussions of a sexual nature, aka masturbation. Just letting you know beforehand.]

(September 15, 2009)

It's only 10:38pm here at the (place I'm staying) but it feels so much later due to jet lag and fatigue. I'm finally feeling at “home” here now. Last night, while staying at the Retreat Center, I already failed my “no masturbation in (this continent)” pact. I was pretty pissed that I already failed, especially since it happened as I was praying in the shower and asking God for new purity. I learned not to play with myself in the shower at all or else it's just a downhill battle from there.

Being in a surf town is also a bit distracting/tempting for me. There's plenty of "surfa brahs" all running around, looking great...

I've just been reminded of my other pact to start working out and prayer/read/journal daily. That's part of the reason I slipped the other day, I wasn't prepared in the Word.

(Fast forward a few days later)

Let's cut the the chase... 8:00pm here in the House.

Sex is alluring.
Sin is sticky.
(and hard to wash off)

The lie of Satan: promising something he can never deliver.
The joys of sin are temporary, fleeting, ephemeral.

And I'm just the same idiot boy who falls for it every freaking time!

Confession: I went to use the public bathrooms during a trip to (this small artsy beach town with friends) and promptly found free packages of condoms in a dispenser in the bathroom. The internal mental struggle ensued while I pissed on the weird metal wall which composed the urinal.
Guess which side won out this time?
My flesh...

From there I couldn't wait to get home and try one out, in spite of the fact I knew I didn't want to continue to feed the addictions of masturbation. Having never actually seen a condom before, or even used one, I ripped one open even while still at the station and figured a few things out. Soon enough the stickiness and smell of the lubricating oil was on my hands. (In hindsight I sound so sheltered, sort of like a home schooler, it's almost humorous! I guess private Christian school really did keep me away from some things.)

On the way home I ended up bumping into (and friend of mine) and had to shake his hand. Shame was now mounting under my impending decision to try out one of these condoms. It was as if he was placed there by God to intercept me. If only I would have listened or heeded the warning...

I'm home. Time to crack the next one open, regardless of the risk or consequences.
I don't think it's a coincident that none of the bathrooms in this house have doors that lock.

But I press on.

And just like that, it's over.

I'm completely under-whelmed. Seriously, I've had way better.
Is that what sex is supposed to be like? Well, I mean, if it wasn't just me and my hand?

Now comes the flood of conviction that I had successfully suppressed up to this point.

I have to bury the evidence!
Where can I hide this crap?

I sure hope no one ever digs through the trash for any reason or else I'll have a lot of explaining to do. Then again, getting caught isn't the worst thing in the world.

Yeah, I'm still at a point in life where I'm longing for accountability even if it comes via the worst possible method. I just want people to know what my struggles truly are and not have to walk around with these careful lies and endless longings.

So what have I learned from this latest experience?

Sex is so seductive but completely unsatisfying out of God's intended context.

God is ever present and extending his hand for relationship and intimacy with me, if only I'll let him in and begin to trust.

Even after all was said and done, the girls invited me to come read the Bible at the coffee shop with them. And (another friend) wanted me to come with her to the Base as well.

God is always faithful, always watching, always pouring out hope.
(Even in the midst of my unfaithfulness and despair.)