What's the Point?

Written: 9/7/11

As I look at this life and all the things that everyone does, I can't help but wonder "What's the point of it all?" I mean, if we all die, why should we bother with the mundane-ness of it all? Why should I go through the day-in, day-out grind of working and saving and being responsible? It all just feels so pointless.

And if I am always finding myself here, at this place where all I see is pointless and where nothing even seems to be worth doing, then there must be some validity to these feelings, right? Because feelings can be trusted, can't they? I can't help but agree with Solomon when he said in Ecclesiastes "Meaningless, meaningless! Everything is meaningless!" It really is.

You've been there too, haven't you? That place when nothing makes sense to you. When you find yourself not in any state of depression, nothing is really going wrong, everything just seems to be going, but there seems to be no reason to it all. You wake up, you work, you go to sleep, and you wonder "Is this all there is?" We just walk blindly in the dark room, trying to navigate this maze we call life when we can't see what's around the next corner; trying to get the most out of it before you make that last turn into the grave.

All around you, everyone seems to know exactly what they're doing and where they're going, like they have a map or something. And if there is a God, he seems distant and uncaring. Not that your life is even particularly bad (Because, if you are reading this in America then your life is great) or that your day was stressful. But, no matter which way you go, no matter how you look at it, it all just seems to be empty and pretentious.

You're born, you live, you do some stuff, you do some more stuff, and (if you took good care of your body and exercised and ate organic AND you are lucky) you do even more stuff, and then you die. No matter who you are, what you have or haven't done, you die. And that's it. It's over. Curtain call, people say nice things about you, and then they stick you in a box, drop you underground, and stick a nice rock on top of you that has your name on it and a clever saying. Like your final status update. Then once or twice a year people come and decorate your rock with tears and flowers.

Let's be clear. When I die, I don't want flowers on my rock. You never gave me flowers when I was alive, what makes you think that I would want them when I die? Not that I could want anything when I'm dead because, well, I'm dead. But still, no flowers. Bring something cool, like a good book for my deadness to enjoy. And don't cry for me. I'm dead, I finally escaped the world, my mission succeeded, and I get to sleep in for eternity. Be jealous of me... And I digress.

So, why not off yourself now and get it over with? Because a whole bunch of people will cry? You'd be dead, if they were smart, they'd off themselves too so they could join you for the neighborhood post-mortem picnic. Flowers not included.

But then, what if there is more? What if your last breath here is your first breath of eternity? What if your view of infinite nothingness was wrong? It can't be, can it? I mean, you had all the facts straight: big bang, chaos, primordial ooze, evolution, your grandma, you; that's how it happened, right? No point. it's over; thanks for playing?

But then you find yourself standing on the stage of First Assembly in Fort Myers with bright lights and aluminum foil everywhere. You see angels standing on platforms and you give some heartfelt speech about why you deserve heaven (because now you realize that that's where you are). Then Taylor Merckx will read her book, not find your name, and lower her head in disappointment. Then the lights change and two children run out in grim reaper costumes followed by some guy with his face painted like Darth Maul who laughs at you as you fail to overcome the sheer power of the grim reaper-children! Mwuahahaha!! Then he says something through a vocoder to a crowd that you didn't notice, and then you're dragged backstage to what we presume to be eternal damnation. (Only a handful of my friends will actually get that)

I make a joke about it here, but it really is not a joke. It's reality. You will die. And it's a coin toss of whether or not your "scientific" theories are true or not. Let's say you're right. Awesome! Congratulations, you win nothingness. But say you're wrong. Every plan must have what people refer to as a "Plan B" to it. You've got to have a "what if I'm wrong?" clause on your plan. If not, you're just stupid. So you're wrong, now what?

I find myself here, never-the-less. I take an honest look around, and it all seems so monotonous.

I look to the sky and say in my head "Is this all there is? In your grandeur and infiniteness you couldn't at least make it fun? Because I feel like I'm just running on a pinwheel to your amusement. Like I'm just a rat in a maze and there is nothing for me until I get to the cheese at the end."

Because we go through these struggles, day in and day out, and nothing ever goes the way we planned for it to go. Nothing ever turns out right. We get screwed over, people lie to us, cheat us, steal from us, they abuse us and manipulate us, they gain our trust and then leave us, they gain our love and the break our hearts, and this whole life thing seems to be just one hurt after another with a period of redundancy in between. And no matter how hard we work or how hard we try, it's just like Solomon said, it's "A chasing after the wind."

And we all want something more. We want to know that there is at least someone out there who cares about us, who will be there for us when everyone else abandons us. But then, how can we put our trust in this supposedly omnipotent being if he can't even keep us from being abused and neglected? Why should I bow down before this malevolent being who allows children to starve and women to be sold into sexual slavery? Because, if God created man, then God is responsible for what man does. Right?

Well, yes and no.

We try to figure God out and judge him based on what we think he should do. Like we are something just short of a demi-god. Like you know what's best for the entire freaking world. Like if you were god you could do a better job. So, in your trying to figure God out, you find that he doesn't make sense, he can't be understood. Then you find yourself running away from God because he doesn't make sense in your primitive brain. And because it's not something you understand and doesn't work the way you think it should, you dismiss it and go on with your life.

And I can see Jesus walking with you, all but screaming at you "Will you stop blaming me for the mistakes of man!?"

Because honestly, did you think that if there was a God that you would understand him? If you could understand God the he wouldn't be a God. You can't even understand women (I mean, only God understands women. Women don't even understand women), so what makes you think that you can understand a being that is infinitely more complicated? Really? You're an idiot if you think you can understand God. And an arrogant idiot, at that.

"Well if I was God, I would blah blah blah blah." Would you shut up? Nobody cares. There is a God, and you most certainly are not him. So stop your blathering, it's not helping anyone.

Because He hasn't "proven" himself to you? What if he has, but every time he tries to do something you scream "It's Photoshopped!" Like everyone did when Obama released his birth certificate. If God is this omniscient and all powerful being, then what makes you think that God has anything to prove to you? Do you think God owes you a favor? What, did you cover his shift for him on the seventh day or something? No, God owes you nothing. Shut up and get over yourself because everyone else is already over you. You arrogant prick.

So there’s this God out there who owes us absolutely nothing. He could sit back and watch us tear ourselves apart and be totally justified in doing so. He could weave himself an earth-sized hand basket, drop us in it, and then send us on our way to the Mordor of the universe; that is, Hell. But He doesn't. He hasn't. He has put up with your crap since before your mom changed your first diaper. He has been standing there with his arms crossed, apologizing to the other gods in the grocery store for the way his child is acting, while you have thrown yourself on the ground and are flailing and crying and screaming "What about me? It's all about me. My life, my problems. Prove yourself to ME. ME, ME, ME, ME, ME, or, if you play the Wii, then MII." For the love of sanity, would you shut up and stop your crying? You look like an idiot.

And instead of leaving us to our own devices, God shrunk himself down to a child and got on the floor with you. He laid beside you and then showed you that you can get off the ground and stop being a baby. He made himself nothing, which is to say, like you, and then showed you how to lie on the floor without throwing a temper-tantrum. He went through all the same crap we do every day, and yet, not once did he ever cry like you do. He was rejected everywhere he went, people were always trying to kill him, he devoted his entire life to helping people who only wanted to hurt him. And then he even got beaten beyond recognition, and nailed to some large pieces of wood where died and horrible and excruciatingly painful death. And not one single time did he ever go emo. Not once did he act like a baby.

Don't tell me that Jesus wasn't a beast. He went 40 days and 40 nights without food and not once did he complain about it. You complain if you don't get your afternoon snack. He was constantly rejected by people everywhere he went and never did he say "everyone hates me! Wah wah wah." He looked at you, in your stupidity and arrogance, and he got beaten to within an inch of his life; for you. He didn't look at the cross and say "whoa! Yea, you're not worth that. Sorry, you're on your own here." No, he died for you. And you say that it's asking too much to forgive that person who doesn't seem to learn? You say that God is asking too much of you when he asks you to go out of your way to help someone who you have problems with? Really? The irony kills.

Yes, you are an idiot. You sin every day. You will never live up to the standard Jesus set. You will never find meaning in-and-of yourself. You will never be able to repay all that God has done for you. But that's the best part! He is not asking you to!

He is asking you to trust Him. To "throw away the sin that so easily entangles and run with perseverance the race that is marked out for us." Because "Blessed is the man whose trust is in the Lord!" When you go through trials and tribulations, he is saying to you "Consider it pure joy... Because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance."

He is walking with you through your storms and saying to you "Do not fear, my child. I am with you always. I will not let you fall, I will not let you be put to shame, I will not let you fall away, I will not allow the lions to devour you, and I will not allow your enemies to prevail, so long as your faith and trust remains in me. Did that boy/girl break your heart? Its okay; I will never let you down. Did your parents leave you? It's okay; I will never leave you nor forsake you. Were you abused as a child? It's okay; I have a plan for your life, I am your healer and redeemer. You have been made new. Are you addicted to things that you feel powerless to break? It's okay; because if I set you free, you are truly free! Are you tired, hurt, burdened, and lonely? It's okay; because my burden is easy and my yoke is light. Do you constantly feel condemned because of the things you've done? Were you the bully? Were you the parent who abandoned their children? Were you the drug dealer? Did you use that boy/girl and then break their heart? Were you the abuser? That's okay too; because in me there is no condemnation.”

“You know that story about me dying on the cross? Yea, I did that for you. I love you and I have a plan for your life even if you think that it's too late. Don't give up. Remember, I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

It doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, where you've been, or who you've hurt. There is forgiveness and redemptio in Christ. There is hope, strength, and purpose in Christ. That guy I mentioned earlier who said "Meaningless, Meaningless! Everything is meaningless!" Also went on to write "Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil."

Because without God and the hope of Salvation that is in Christ and Christ alone, there is no purpose. If you knew me in high school, you know that I would never say anything like this. You remember that I was depressed and suicidal and addicted to drugs. Remember that guy? I do too. And I never want to go back to that shallow and meaningless existence. And I don't have to.

Go and share hope with somebody today. That's the point. That it's not about you so grow up and stop making it about you. And honestly, I think I wrote this to myself mroe than anyone else. But I hope that it at least helped you.

There is a point, and that's the point.

Damage Control

Written: 8/5/11

”But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.” –Jesus (Matt 12:37)

Ever have one of those “I can’t believe I just said that” moments? How about a time when you say something and what you meant is exactly opposite of how it came across? Then everyone loses their minds and when they confront you about it, you can’t see the big deal and they’re angry at you and you get defensive and you lash out at them even more. Either that, or some people take your side without completely understanding the whole situation, and they lash out at someone else, and hurt that person, and that was not what you intended to happen at all.

Then, before you realize what happened, everyone is up in arms, either completely for you, or completely against you. And you, or someone you love, is standing in the middle, completely oblivious to the effects of what you said, and you get caught in the crossfire. Because when one hurtful thing is said, instead of taking time to see why words were said, they get on the defensive and launch a verbal counter-attack of their own. People get caught in their biases, insulting and insinuating out of blind devotion, usually in ignorance, and doing nothing but escalating the problems.

Everyone keeps going, and it will never stop. One person gets hurt and is forced to snap at the person who hurt them. People who are completely innocent find themselves in the middle of a hate storm, and have no idea what happened. To one side, the other side is the enemy for some vague and trivial reason, and to the other side, the first side is the enemy for the same thing. They usually don’t really realize that what both sides want is the same thing: Peace.

Isn’t it so true how easy it is to find yourself rushing to someone’s defense, not completely sure why you’re fighting; you just know that you are fighting for that person, and no matter what they did, the other side is wrong. You look right past the faults of the person you are defending and point out the faults in the other side. And all this does is create more and more problems. Pain begets pain, insults beget insults, and in the end, no one wins. Everyone leaves feeling hurt, misunderstood, and frustrated that they couldn’t get anyone else to see their point of view.

This happens in politics all the time.

I am writing this because this is what happened to me. I vented my frustration about the situation between Kayla and I; not mad or bitter towards Kayla in any way, just frustrated that I “Felt” left out. (Honestly, how many times have we been led to say or do something we would later regret?) I was venting, albeit, in the wrong way, but that’s all it was. I couldn’t find anyone to talk to me, I couldn’t find anyone to vent to, so I took to the one place where I knew that someone would see it. I posted it on facebook, right there for the whole world to see.

The only problem with the world being able to see it was that the world had no idea exactly what was going on. They see this post written in frustration, and it looks like someone has seriously been wronged. They immediately run to that person’s aid to “Lick the wounds” and take their side, or they quickly mount a defense. No one takes the time to simply say “Hey, could you clarify that a little, it sounds really bitter and really harsh, maybe you could try rephrasing that.”

No, instead, they immediately assume that they completely understand what is going on and fire back with things of their own.

And that’s what happened. I was misunderstood, and immediately people simultaneously rushed to my aid, and rushed to the attack. Phone calls were made, texts were sent, and messages were written; not all of them kind. So what does that immediately do to me? It puts me on the defensive. No longer am I venting an annoyance or frustration; I am defending myself.

Suddenly there are two sides launching verbal tirades at each other, aggressively and passionately defending the one they perceive as wronged. And while there are words flying and hate-bombs being dropped, people who had nothing to do with the situation, or who were completely unaware of what was going on are caught in no-man’s land being fired at from every direction, completely and utterly ignorant of what is going on; all they know is that they are being attacked, and they don’t know why.

That happened to Kayla. She couldn’t see my status update; and she never really asked me to isolate myself, I chose to do that. I felt forced into it, but really, it was my choice. So she is sitting here, completely oblivious to what is going on, and then all of a sudden, she is hit. She has no idea what was going on, nor any knowledge of my frustrations. But someone from “my side” launched something her way that hit her unexpectedly, and she had no idea why.

And I am so busy defending myself that I can’t see that this will eventually affect her in some way, and someone will (Someone ALWAYS does) inform her of the situation with either an encouraging “I’ve got your back girl!” message, or a “You are a horrible person, what have you done? How can you live with yourself?” message.

I was too blind to see it, but it happened. I didn’t want it to, but it did. Now I’m standing here, looking across this battlefield, and I see people who are wounded, people who are offended, people who are angry, and who only want this to settle down. I see wounds I have inflicted on others, I see tension I have placed on already tedious relationships. Most of all, I see people who have only ever tried to help me, and navigate this whole situation fairly (whether they succeeded or not is irrelevant. They tried.). I see that my careless words, my need for instant gratification, hurt those who didn’t deserve it; those who I had no quarrel with, who were hurt, either by me, or by the ensuing chaos of my words.

You see, I was not mad at Kayla. I am not mad at Kayla. This is not just her fault, just as much as it’s not all my fault. Blame is to be shared. I chose to isolate myself. I was never told that I couldn’t be around her, or that I couldn’t hang out with everyone, I just chose that route and played the victim.

Because I was so busy defending myself under the barrage of hate-calls, hate-texts, and hate-messages, I couldn’t see how this would affect Kayla. After a short while, clarification was no longer considered, I was only concerned with fighting back. I was no longer venting my frustrations at the situation in general but making personal attacks and not caring about the repercussions.

I was selfish and foolish. And I hurt several people who didn’t deserve any of it; and I involved others who didn’t need to be involved. I had others acting on the same line of defense and attack as me, completely unaware of what was going on.

I am sincerely sorry. I was wrong to not at least consider rephrasing my grievance. I was wrong to involve other people in this. I was wrong to go public before ever trying to work the problem out in private. I was wrong to lash out when I felt attacked, rather than try to understand what was going on. I was wrong to speak out of emotion and not reason. And to everyone who was involved with either the thread itself, or the private discussions, or the phone calls, or any

other part of it, I am sorry.

Please, do not take offense with anyone but me. Kayla had nothing to do with this, she is innocent. Leave her alone.

And don’t blame anyone else who said something that hurt you or that offended you, we were all speaking from biased emotions.

“Forgive one another, just as God in Christ forgave you.” (Eph. 4:32) And, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (Rom. 12:18)

I ask your forgiveness for this entire ordeal. And I forgive you for anything you said or thought about me.

Hope?

Written: 7/27/11

     I have heard it said that time heals all wounds. That is false. Time heals nothing. I have actually found that some wounds only get worse with time. Some things only become more painful as the days, weeks, and months roll by. The worst part of it all was that I saw it coming a mile away and could have avoided it. I could have stopped all of this. But instead, I saw the warnings, and chose to go ahead anyways. To continue in my foolishness. I could have saved a lot of people a lot of pain, but instead, I chose the route of selfishness and hurt a lot of people. But namely, one person. The one person I promised that I wouldn't hurt, that I told to her face that I would protect and love her and be there for her. Instead, I lied to her, I used her, I hurt her, and I only made her life worse.

     Regret is my biggest enemy at this time. I find myself constantly deflecting the barrage of guilt and shame over the things that I have done. "If you love someone," These voices say, "Then how could you do what you did? How could you lie like that, how could you break every promise you made to her? How? And you call yourself a human? You are pathetic. You are nothing. You will only ever bring disappointment and hurt wherever you go. You will always fail because you are a failure."

     These voices taunt me day in and day out. No matter what I do, they never go away. Sometimes it is so overwhelming that it leaves me paralyzed. I can't move, I can't think, I can't do anything except watch these memories play through my mind over and over again. And all I see is pain. Pain that I have caused, that I could have avoided. I am constantly in a state of re-analyzing my life, finding every thought, every action, and every motive that was wrong and wishing I could go back and fix it.

     I see pictures of her smiling, laughing, having fun. I see her laughing when she is with her friends, enjoying herself, and enjoying life. From out here she looks so happy and peaceful. And every time I see that, a voice booms in my head and says "See how happy she is? See how much she loves her life? She was never like that with you. With you, it was always misery. It was always pain. She couldn't be herself, she couldn't trust you, she couldn't even love you. But now that she is not with you, and you are not in her life, everything is right for her. But never with you. Because you are a waste of life, you are a detriment, you are nothing but a parasite to those around you." And I have no choice but to believe them, because it is true. All of it. At least, that's what my life's experiences have taught me.

     And it never stops. Never. When I pray, it's there. When I read the bible, it's there. When I am hanging out with my friends, it's there. When I am trying to sleep, it's there. No matter what I do, I can think of nothing else. "She hates you! She wants nothing to do with you! You were, and are, just as bad as the others. You are not a man. You will never be one! See how she just pretends like you don't exist? That's because she hates you, and it would have been better for everyone if you didn't exist."

     I find myself, over a month later, still reeling from it all. Still wiping tears from my eyes when no one is looking. I am trying so hard, but no matter what I do, it is never enough. I feel as though I will never be the man God has called me to be. That I will never be anything. Period. The wound is old, but the pain is still just as sharp and just and deep as ever. I mean, if I can't even find a job, how do I expect to ever have a family? In and of myself, I am powerless and worthless. I have nothing to give to anyone. I am the more perverted, dark, twisted, and broken than everyone. I have no good inside of me.

     Where does that leave me? What hope is there for one as wretched as me? For so long, I thought there was none. I professed to know hope, I professed to have hope, but secretly, I didn't believe it. And I fight with myself every day to make myself believe it.

     "There is no hope for you, Colby!" The voices say.

     "Yes! There has to be!" I plead, "I know it's there somewhere, I just haven't found it yet."

     And there's this war, constantly raging inside of me. Pulling me back forth, tugging at me from all sides. Confusing me, hurting me. Reminding me of everything I have ever done wrong. Visions flash in my mind's eye; visions of the hurt and pain that I have caused. And I wonder if I will ever be free from this guilt.

     Yes, I am trying to serve God and live for Him. I am praying constantly and reading the Word, and even being used by God to minister to others. But in the midst of that, all I can hear is the sound of her crying as she said goodbye and knowing that her pain was my fault.

     My smiles are empty and full of hurt.

     And I come before my God with nothing to give, with nothing to offer. I can't even bring myself to say anything, because it only ever sounds like excuses and apologies. All I can do is stare at the floor, knowing how unholy I am and that I do not deserve by any means to even be able to come into His presence. I don't deserve to be able to pray. I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve to even be a slave of the king. The weight of his perfection weighs so heavily and stands in such sharp contrast to my imperfection and wickedness, that I can't even stand.

     All I can say is "I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am sorry, God. I am so, so sorry."

     I sit here on my knees, broken. Completely empty of myself, of hope, of life, and of purpose. I have nothing. I am nothing. But is then that I remember what the pslamist said, "The Lord is close to the broken-hearted; He saves those who are crushed in spirit." (34:18).

     And in my brokenness and hopelessness, A voice as clear and powerful as a peal of thunder echoes in my mind, "I am with you always." It says. And immediately the other voices, the ones who accuse and condemn are silenced. And for that brief amount of time, I don't feel so hopeless.

     Suddenly, I notice that my guilt is gone. I notice that my shame has been washed away. My dark and calloused heart has been renewed and restored. My emptiness is gone, and I feel purpose again. And from the sheer gratitude, I am still unable to move. Then He says, "Now go, my son, and tell them all what I have done for you, that I may give them hope and set them free as well."

     And so here I am, nowhere near perfect. A broken, despicable man. A man of shame and sorrow and heartbreak. But for some reason, God has made me perfect and whole. He has washed away my shame. And He has given me a purpose.

     And this I say to you: It doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, what church you go to, or if you even go at all. That guilt you carry around every day of your life? That shame you feel constantly? That sense of hopelessness? That sense of purposelessness? All of it can be gone. It can be taken from you! You can be made whole. You can be given hope and purpose!

     There is no such thing as too far gone. No such thing as hopeless. Because I stand here today as a testament that all things can be made new. All things can be restored. Your evil is worse than you ever dared imagine, but God's grace is greater than you ever dared hope! You can change!

     "Hope?" You ask.

     "Yes! Hope!" I say.

     I know that God is good, even when I am not. I know that God is faithful, even when I am not. And I know that God is able, even when I am not.

     I may not understand, or I may think I understand, but that doesn't matter. I believe that God can make all things new! I believe that, because He has made me new. Don't give up! Because it is not over yet! Not for me, and not for you.

     And I can stand here now, sorry for the wrongs I have done, but forgiven for them. I know that God has a plan in all of this, I know He has a purpose for me. And whichever way this turns out, I trust Him. Because He is trustworthy.

The Path to Victory

Written: 5/5/11


I am only a man. I am not a hero, I am not famous; I do not desire to be. I have fought this fight for as long as I can remember, and I am tired. I am a real man (Although I think the term “Man” here is giving me too much credit) looking for real answers in a world of fake people and fake answers. I have real struggles, I have real problems, I live a real life, I feel real pain. I am one man, doing my best to live for God, giving it everything I have and yet, somehow, I still fall far short.

I have heard it said that there is always hope, and I desperately want to believe that. But at this point in life I don’t know if I do. I guess to truly understand why this is so difficult you need to know where I come from and how I got here.

I know many stories that start well and end tragically, and many that start tragically and end well; some that start well and end well, and some that start in tragedy and end there too. I know not at this time where my story falls because it is not yet over. For that I am thankful. I started in tragedy. I was born to a drug addict and raised in a world of drugs, violence, and sex. I had no father figure, my parents split when I was only six months of age.

My formative years were spent being told that impurity, violence, anger, betrayal, selfishness, malice, greed, and lust were acceptable, even commendable. God was only mentioned in curses, Jesus only mentioned as figure of speech, not of freedom or salvation. I was introduced to pornography at the age of 5 and remember it like it happened only moments ago. As of today, I can still see the video playing, I can still smell the musky room and the stale smell of old couches. I can still hear the actors and actresses. To this day it haunts me and drives me to do things that I am ashamed of, things that I hate and hate myself for doing.

A year later I was molested for the first time, an experience I didn’t, at the time, understand. I was lead to believe that it was normal. It went on for years, and I can remember each time vividly. I remember the pain, the confusion, the bitterness, and even the disgust I had with myself afterwards. I was powerless to say no, and I had no one to trust, I had no safety from it, for even my family was involved.

And as bad as that was to me, I know there are many out there that have been through worse; that are currently in worse. I weep for them; I mourn for those whose only understanding of life is violence, sex, and drugs. I used to say to God all the time, “If you’re there, why am I here?” Through tears and through sobs, I cried, I begged God to make it stop, and it felt as if it never would.

That is where I am from, that is what I deal with. Though God has walked me though the process of forgiveness and healing, I still see the world through eyes that have seen abuse. As much as God has shown me that there is hope, I still doubt. I don’t claim to have answers for the “Why’s”, nor do I claim to have any special knowledge. As for God, as much as I see Him around me and feel him working in my life, sometimes I am uncertain. Sometimes I outright don’t believe. I know I am not that strong, I have come to terms with that. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t pretend to be.
I want to be free from this addiction. I don’t want to taste victory, I want to have it; but as much as I fight and as hard as I try, I have yet to have more than a sample.

So what is victory? Is it the top of Everest? Is it the surface of the moon? Maybe in those types of achievements, the victory lies at the end. I am thinking that victory in this area of my life may not be the day when porn no longer bothers me or the thought to masturbate never again enters my mind, rather, victory is me living by God’s strength and not my own and me throwing myself at His mercy every time I mess up and every time I sin. Maybe God is less concerned about that summit and more concerned about the path I take, the thousands of steps I take that bring me that much closer to freedom and that much closer to victory.

Who says victory is on the scoreboard? What if the victory is in the heart of the man who lost the battle but learned a great lesson about how weak he is and how great his God is? Wouldn’t such a revelation lead to him winning the war? And how could he have learned that lesson if he had not first failed? Thomas Edison tried over a thousand ways to make a light bulb before he figured it out, and when asked about how he dealt with his failure he responded with “I have not failed. I've just found a thousand ways that won't work.” Every failure led him to a different combination which got him closer and closer to something that works.

Maybe, then, my failures are not total failures, but rather, stepping stones that lead me to total victory. Maybe the only failure is the failure to learn from your mistakes. I’m not sure if I will ever “arrive” but that won’t stop me from starting the journey. I’m not sure if victory is complete abstinence from porn and masturbation or complete dependence on God. Although I think it would be the latter over the former, just because the simple reasoning that I cannot, in my own will and own power, achieve this. For, even where the strength is in my body, it is never in my will power. For wherever the desire to do good and be pure is, my sinful nature rears its head and overpowers my will, making so that I would rather not do that which I really desire to do.

I am constantly finding myself fighting a battle that I know I need to win but that I really don’t care to or want to win, because truth be told, I don’t really want victory. And that is why I am here, because I am standing at a cross roads between two things that I want and can’t have at the same time. To one side is to continue in apathy, content to watch life happen to me and cry and whine when things don’t go my way; to the other, the path that God has for me, the one of freedom, of fellowship, of life more abundantly. While life more abundantly sounds so good, it is so much work, work that I can’t do on my own. I can’t even want to do it on my own.

So this is where I am. Questioning that which is real, trying to find myself in this thing we call life. Trying to find the place God has for me in this world. Trying to be free and pure, trying to follow God; wanting nothing more than something genuine and real, something that is not borrowed or copied, but something that is mine that no one can take away. And as much as I want to stay where I am, I want even more to become that which I am not: real.