It’s at this point where you are probably wondering what happened after the “Vicodin encounter”.
There are so many things that I could say, like I never was tempted to watch porn again. Or, I never felt like I didn’t want to live again after that.
But, that would be false and I don’t thrive in falsehood.
To be completely honest, I struggled with the temptation to watch porn constantly and I still do to this day. That’s the thing about addiction; Even if you’re free from it, the temptation never really goes away. What keeps me away from actually viewing pornography are the looming thoughts of who I was while I was addicted to it.
Ain’t nobody got time for that person. Bye Felicia.
And, to be clear, just because I’m free from a pornography addiction, doesn’t mean I’m free from lust. That is something I’m not sure I’ll ever be free from.
You see, molestation completely and totally skews your perception of sex, purity, the world at large and your concept of family. Like I stated before, I was molested by two very close family member multiple times. To this day, I’m still uncomfortable around one of the two, which tells me that they aren’t free from the trauma that caused them to be sexually attracted to me and my sister. The other one is free from the trauma but as I found out not too long ago, is not willing to confess.
Anyone who is molested wants answers. Why would you think this is ok? Why did you choose me? Why a child and not another grown adult? These questions are in a sense rhetorical and don’t get answered the way we would like them to, if at all. But, for me, once I knew it had happened, somehow, God lifted the confusion off of me and gave me peace. Peace that I’ve carried into adulthood and that has sustained me through the darkest of times. But, even with that peace, I’ve still struggled and I’ve still grappled with the reality that I will never know what true purity feels like.
It’s mind-numblingly humbling.
As a result, my journey towards discovering the true nature of Christ has been filled with bumps, trips and falls. Deliberate and willing acts of sinfulness that surprised me after the fact. Hope-filled connections with God that left me in awe and wonderment.
God and I have been through it all. We’ve trudged through the pain. We’ve skipped through the joy. We’ve fallen together and He has picked me right back up where I was and dusted me off. He’s protected me from my own self more times than I can count. He’s let me skin my knee and come running back to him, snotty nose and all, so He can bandage my wounds.
One thing He hasn’t done, is let me give up. Oh, there have been so many times I’ve wanted to give up. Just yesterday, I wanted to give up. To be honest, 5 minutes ago, I wanted to give up. My sins should have me completely stained by now. Completely rejected by Him and His Father. Completely abandoned to fend for myself for the disrespect I’ve shown Him and God. What I’m going through, what I’ve been through, makes me feel like I’m damaged goods.
Never to be used by Him again.
But, I’ve learned that God specializes in using damaged goods. He takes the people that others would throw away as ash and makes them beautiful. He loves my disobedient self. All of it. He doesn’t judge me for my sin, He just wants me to do better and so He loves me through my sin. When He looks at me, He doesn’t see sin, he sees beauty.
A man I’ve never seen before is choosing to love me even when it’s my 903,207,098,123,980,237,879,890,977,890,087.08 time doing that thing I know I’m not supposed to do…AGAIN.
It’s strange and liberating and terrifying.