Skip to main content

An Independence Day Reflection



This Man of mine was a porn-addict.

It may not seem my story to tell, but he bears no shame in it - having brought it to the light to be exposed and expunged and used by God for good in his life. It has been years now, but he tells me that every day he gets further from it, I become more beautiful in his eyes. Though the trap of pornography is usually about deeper issues than lust - often covering deep feelings of failure or inadequacy - it still warps the vision and the mind and imprints comparisons in secret places where there should be none. But these days, when I feel that even my best features have morphed into unrecognizability, his eyes still light up for me, bringing comfort and connection for us both. He is a slave no longer.



In the perusing of these thoughts, it comes to me - I am an addict too.

I don't seek the clothes-less figures. I seek the human approval. I have enslaved myself to the lust of likes and comments and digital friends. I justify my desires - calling them relationships, keeping up with old friends, sharing my gifts. But Purity never has to be justified. I justify my use of the soft-core Book-of-Faces by rejecting the hard-core Interesting-Pins, knowing my limited self-control would be completely mastered there. But, I am still addicted. And in the same way as my Man, the true needs are deeper - my clicks and posts covering longings for value, purpose, and success. But the fallout is greater than just the time wasted and the artificial approval gained. As I scroll and read, I begin to compare without realizing: my family to hers, my talent to theirs, my flaws to her seeming perfections. And my own begin to suffer. I resent my inadequacies - my inability to make my life shine, my family to be the poster-picture, my gifts to garner attention and compensation. And I take it out on these precious ones that don't even realize they are being compared. This addiction has made me blind.






I need to quit. I need to be set free.

God has told me this before, and I have tried. Well, not really. I have made little efforts. Efforts to curb the worst, but keep the sin nevertheless. Never cold-turkey, all out turning away (the about-face required of true repentance), but a lip-service-only resolve for fewer minutes, less posts, more infrequent clicks. But the comparison remains. The blindness continues. The pain spreads. Only a major surgery will do - cutting the offending organism away - yes, there will be blood. But the healing comes more quickly than I imagine. His grace offers soul-freedom that my efforts alone cannot. The blindness gives way to sight, cloudy at first, but clearer each day. And my life seems more beautiful every day. The joy of what I already have brings a new light to the eyes. I can thrill at the sight of those-that-fill-the-house. The list of the gifts and grateful begins to grow again. I find I already begin to smile more readily.










It is Independence Day. The freedom of life and work and speech are celebrated with charred meat and tent-dwelling and rocket-fire. But I rejoice at liberty of a different sort. I celebrate the loss of mind-shackles and heart despots. I am free. Free to love and serve and work. Free to see what is, even the ugly-beautiful. And life, not perfect, but mine (as I am his - and His) is good.

 
























Comments

  1. BethJuly 5, 2017 at 6:46 AM

    So good! Thanks so much for sharing your heart and your willingness to be vulnerable. This is a declaration for interdependance! ;)

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownJuly 30, 2017 at 1:48 PM

    Loved reading this Kerrie! You are a beautiful soul!

    ReplyDelete
  3. NormAugust 11, 2017 at 7:11 AM

    Boy, Kerrie, you DO hit the nail on the head here... and a nerve with us all. God bless you and your sweet family.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Jim2rondaAugust 29, 2020 at 2:23 PM

    Kerrie, This is so amazing. Really touched my heart and soul. I love you guys and miss you all so much. <3
    Jim

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Grace ... Not This Time?

I have thought to write this over the years, but I have always chickened out. Today I will say it. I read a repeat of a heartbreaking headline yesterday: "Baby Suffocates in Hot Car." I can never read the articles; they are too awful. And I always feel horribly sick to my stomach. And I can't read them because after the article usually come the comments. The comments where perfect strangers to the people involved berate them publicly for being the worst of parents, neglectful monsters, and worthy of death or worse. I assume because you are all my friends that you have never (nor would) post any such thing in such an instance, but be honest, have you ever thought those things?! I'm here to tell you (and risk losing friends in the process) that if you've ever thought (or said) those things, you need to say them to me. No, I've never lost a child to suffocation in a hot car, but... I could have.  I could be the one being called those terrible names. When ou...
2 comments
Read more

This Season, this Manna, this Father

The first day of summer - the first full day of a week without my six oldest. The seasons are changing... I want this to be a time of relaxation and reset and rebirth, but something in me fears it won't happen - that it isn't possible; that they will come home and it will all be still as it was. As I look at what life would be without the six in it, I know I love them; I know I want them back; but... I don't want back the life we have had lately, fraught with tension, cross looks, hormone release, and lots of tears. I miss them. But perhaps I miss them because I miss the opportunities to do more, love more, engage more. Opportunities I didn't take often enough. That I missed. I miss the six because I have missed the opportunities. And then, I read two witnesses on the bread in the wilderness and I am convicted. Manna - no one, the wise fathers nor the up-and-coming children, knew what it was. But they ate it. They trusted God, and ate it. And ...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Time to Plant

  It's time to cut down a tree - or two -  both literally and figuratively, it would seem. We finally escaped our too-spendy rental in the new state so far from the old stomping grounds. And after much dragging around of the realtor, found a spot to call our own and plant the brood and all our accoutrements. There is land here - enough for chickens and gardens and even for all the vehicles that accompany our menagerie - but it is virtually bare land. There are only half a dozen trees on the whole property. With the exception of one overshadowed apple tree, all the trees are a variety of willow, more leggy than sturdy. There is one just outside the bedroom window. I want it to be wide and spreading, solid and reliable. But it is not. It seems that it is dead. Yes, there are leaves and shrubbery, but the lady at the nursery down the lane - the Jolly Lane - informs that the leggy growths and barren trunks are indicative of trees that have ceased to be healthy - whose hearts ...
Post a Comment
Read more