God – Page 5 – No Small Talk

Sexaholism…Another one from the tracks

Some more thoughts from my commute home, I’ll fix up the post from a computer later.

Ever since the tent incident, I have struggled with the desire for sexual pleasure outside of marriage. Learning about this kind of “on-demand” pleasure set me up for much confusion, some of which continues to this day. For me the pleasure was escape, escape from the constant voice that said I was not important, not cool, and not needed. However, as I turned to masturbation and lived from fantasy to fantasy I just could not get the same level of pleasure.

I began using the Internet for playing out all kinds of fantasies. The “friend” from the tent also would use fantasy ideas on me, and I would unwillingly allow it to happen. Overtime I found myself hating and desiring all of it. I questioned my sexual orientation for years, with my heart desiring women and my flesh desiring the fantasies.

From 12 years old to 20, I never told a single soul of my struggles nor of the events that took place. I felt trapped. Around the age of 15, the “friend” finally disappeared from my life and I thank God that I never actually tried to live out any of the fantasies or pursue anything with anyone else.

So how would I get to the place that I am today? It all started 10 years ago… but I’ll have to write that tomorrow – Next stop: Gresham City Hall, one more stop to go.

Where to begin with sex

I have been following Josh’s blog series on Sex and have fully enjoyed every word written. When it comes to the ideas revolving around human sexuality I have so many places I could go with it. As many things in my life these days it is hard to know where to start, as nothing anymore is black and white. So, I decided to start with the most logical beginning I could think of – a chorographical story of my sex life. I’ll spring into different sub-topics as we walk along the path.

The following is simply my own personal observations, experiences, and feelings at the time of the said events. Some of the events may be described in details that some may find offensive, I include them so the depth of reality can be reached. Because sexuality can have so many connotations, both inside and outside the American Christian culture I simply ask just one thing of my readers, don’t add nor subtract from my words. If something doesn’t make sense or you want clarification – all you need to do is ask – don’t assume, presume, nor fill in the blanks. I will be writing in small chunks for the short attention span readers out there.

My first experience with sexuality came around the age of 12, in a tent in the backyard of a friend’s house. This friend was a couple of years older than I was, I remember him asking me “Do you masturbate”… I think I said yes, only because I had heard of it, but didn’t really know what it was. He proceeded to undress himself and ask me to give him a “hand job” – which I had no idea what he meant, I think he thought I was afraid or something and so instead, he grabbed my hand, and said “like this” and proceeded to demonstrate what he wanted me to do to him. I distinctly remember having this feeling of utter, guilt, confusion, fear, and curiosity all at the same time. After he was satisfied, he then proceeded to “help” me experience my first orgasm by way of a hand job as well. The whole incident laid the groundwork for my sex life. At the time, I was not sure why I felt what I felt, there were strong feelings, both good and bad, there was shame, and there was pleasure.

The feelings I associated that day I believe stem from my ignorance at the time (not having sexual advice, ideas, nor values passed down to me) and from my own insecurity as a pre-teen that put all my identity into what other’s thought of me. More on those last two points later on, for now we can just dwell on this first sexual encounter and mull over those thoughts.

and His kingdom come…

Just about every day, my thoughts are invaded with the idea of “His will be done and his Kingdom come” and I always start to think what on earth does that look like? I think I get the “His will be done” part – for the most part, listening, and obeying what I hear him ask me to do.

But this “and his Kingdom come…” part is what I get stuck on. Now someone could easily “go logical” on us and say, well if you are letting his will be done (listening and obeying) then his kingdom is advancing… Yes, that makes sense, yet I believe there is a lot more than just a simple cause and effect formula to this kingdom thing.

For me the Kingdom of God here on earth “as it is in heaven” is well beyond my understanding, it’s more emotional, more carnal. The Kingdom is the Church, the people, the relationships, all of which are connected by the ribbon of God flowing through our lives. The Kingdom is here on earth when I stop and take a moment to pray for my friends, when I have coffee with someone, when I text a word of encouragement. These things to me are letting the Kingdom come. Yes those things are also His will living through my life. For the Kingdom to come, his will must be done. For his will to be done, the kingdom must come.

If a day goes by and a relationship isn’t touched, a soul not encouraged, a person’s thoughts not effected, or a prayer not offered up on behalf of another – then I wonder “have I let the Kingdom come today?”

Let his kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven….. as it is in heaven – that’s my next idea to ponder.

Remembering authenticity

It is easy to get caught up in the ups and downs of life. Making sure the details are done, that things are communicated, it could go on forever, trying to make all the pieces of life come together. While getting the pieces in order are important, I hope I never neglect relationships because I’m trying make stuff happen. There are times where things need to get done, but I have made a promise to God, myself, and others that I will put them first, the feeding of a person’s soul is more important, and always will be, than the finishing of projects. Projects are measurable, people are priceless.

For me to do any ministry with integrity, I must remain authentic to my heart. If that means approaching someone in confrontation, or being the one to point out the elephant in the room when it wouldn’t be the popular thing to do – than that’s what it means. But I do it in grace, and with integrity for others in mind, and above all else… I do it while depending on the Holy Spirit to guide the words, the timing, and the love. It’s hard, but the more I walk in it, the more I see God’s hand and heart for all of humanity.

Voices of the past

I have been reading Don Miller’s “Blue like Jazz” for a week or so now, on my daily 1 hour commute each way. The MAX can be quite the cultural experience, and for the most part I like it. But combine a challenging book such as “Blue like jazz” and you might just end up frustrated. You see, this book gets to the core of what Christianity really is, really “should” be, the spiritual piece, not the standard life-behavior rhetoric we usually hear.

But this triggers voices inside that are at odds with my origins. First of all I’m suddenly convicted of not caring for people when I thought I did – my head does, I know what is right but if I don’t actually do it – then do I really believe it? For example, there was a guy who got on the train at the same place as I, he was quite confused, a little slow, and kept bothering people on how to get to some place he had written on a piece of paper. The whole time I heard God telling me to help him, possibly go with him the whole way to his destination… but the voice of fear said otherwise, and I kept reading the book – which threw me into a tornado of thoughts, and made me realize how much I fear rejection – even though I don’t let it emotionally bother me – but that’s probably because I don’t let it happen anymore.

None the less I am sure God put another person on the train – because moments later another guy got on and sat next to the confused dude, and within minutes he was describing to him in details how the Portland Transit system works, and where to get off to get to his destination (which apparently didn’t make sense, something like take the Yamhill bus to 10, and 10 to Yamhill… ummm). Anyway – this is just a very small example of the thoughts going on from about 6am to 7am and 3:30 to 4:30 these days.

Parasitical Christianity

A couple weeks ago I was watching a DVR recorded episode of Fringe, a newer sci-fi in its first season on Fox, similar to the X-Files but instead of paranormal kind of investigations, it’s fringe science, the study of bio engineering and things like that. This episode I was watching was about an agent who had a very large parasite (engineered from microscopic size) wrapped around his heart and living off him. The thing that struck out to me about this parasite was that it had “roots” that went up the blood vessels and into the IV drip. Essentially this was slowly dehydrating the host body and slowly killing him (which is where my little analogy breaks down, but you’ll get the point).

I think God would love to have us as parasites, to be fully dependent on him, of which we are. I know that when I try to make it on my own I begin to die – much like a parasite. I find the following definitions of parasite very much the definition I would like to see my life with God be.

1. an organism that lives on or in an organism of another species, known as the host, from the body of which it obtains nutriment.

2. a person who receives support, advantage, or the like, from another or others without giving any useful or proper return, as one who lives on the hospitality of others.

3. (in ancient Greece) a person who received free meals in return for amusing or impudent conversation, flattering remarks, etc.

Greek: parásītos one who eats at another’s table, feeding beside

God is our host – we are invited to eat at his table w/o any return to him. Yet out of this abundance comes a heart of generosity and we are compelled to do the same unto others. So do I live on my own, attempting to live w/o the bloodline I should? Or do I leech myself onto the Host of hosts and the King of kings?

Murmurs

These feelings, these ideas, these urges drive me mad. Someone murmurs to me one picture of life, and another murmur paints a radically different landscape. Both have benefits, both have dire consequences, and inside, my mind fights for both. My soul craves and desires, my spirit longs for life, and my mind is the battlefield.

From time to time these murmurs are blurred voices from the past, pulling on hooks which are buried in scar tissue and that when pulled bring about only a faint pain – a pain that is nondescript and dull, without a specific story, simply a feeling.

When I follow these whispers I always end up in a black void around me, unable to distinguish my mind, from my spirit, to my soul. A void where everything, even the great things in life have faint significance and any light that shines has not a place to reflect, it falls flat.

Yet even though this void seems endless, full of pain, gnawing, and miserable endless muted open wounds – a light still pierces the darkness until it is absorbed into my spirit and filled once again. Beginning as a faint and distant pearl of light, it spirals down, glimmering as sunlight on a diamond.

It is this mystery that is the gift, it is this gift that is increasingly more difficult to receive, over and over, and over again. Yet it is this gift, this light, that brings a hope and purpose to this world and a life in the next. For if I ever forget this gift, if I ever stop accepting it then I will have lost the love that is in the light and I will cease to truly live.

Your revolution within me

In the beginning I heard your voice of acceptance and I believed in your grace. On the mountain you poured your love on me and showed me your ways. There were plethora points for your hand to heal. In those first few years you built my faith.

As I went down the mountain I lost sight of your hand. I kept looking and looking and asking why the darts kept flying my way. Why were the images of my past driving my days? Why in spite of my closeness to you I continued to be pulled away. Around each twist and turn I saw the enemy and with each fight I grew weaker and weaker. Where does my faith finally win out over the lies? When will I finally be relieved of the torture?

I stand here and worship you for each day, some full of dark some full of light. I praise you for the light, and I praise you for the dark, for in the dark I meet your grace. You pour out gifts, blessings, and opportunity, in spite of my wickedness and my transgressions.

Only because I choose to believe in your love for me, do you choose to pour out more on me, and I turn it back to praise. Even when I fail to give thank, and fail to honor you, and choose to fall, you still pour out. I do not deserve, I do not even try, all I do is stand in awe. May I always tap into your revolution within me.

Another creed series

From time to time I like to write about my “creeds” or personal beliefs if you will, and over the years these beliefs have changed, not dramatically. I don’t believe they have contradicted themselves, they have simply developed and matured – and probably will continue to do so. Even if they do contradict themselves, I pray that they continue to be based on my relationship with God and in agreement with the greatest commandments – love him with all of me, and love people with all of me.

So over the next few days I hope to take some time to address specific ideas and beliefs – some of which are of the controversial flavor. For now take a look at my past creedal statements.

Being real

A while back I wrote about how much I loathe the fund raising process, the ups and downs, the stress, and everything else that goes along with something based on faith. Still, I have a philosophy about my Christian walk that I believe is important, and it’s being real. While it may have a whiny tone, it may be jaded at times, I find it freeing to express myself (without slandering, hurting, or otherwise giving bad connotations about others), my doubts, my concerns, my opinions, and in this I find blessing from God. I find that my relationship is something based communication and love, not just “knowledge”, pat answers, and “should haves”.

I believe too that because of this, this creates a relationship with God that I feel is real. I am always aware of his voice, because I’m always telling him things, and hearing back how (at times) rediculous I am in my rantings. Yet, it’s always a fatherly kind of thing (and sometimes motherly, in fact).

So what’s the result of all this? Amazing trust, and a God who never fails to build my faith in Him. Over the past 24 hours we have recieved four donations to our trip (which we leave on Saturday for) totaling, get this, $1,950! I know it’s because I keep putting my faith where it belongs, even though my mind doubts, God knows our weaknesses, and He knows our stregnths, and he works in both! Amen? YES.