Earlier today I found the blog of another Christian battling with same sex attraction. I was glad I did, because truth be told, a great number of the blogs I’ve typically kept up with have either ended, or it’s been a very long time since anyone posted anything on them. Finding this new blog gave me a chance to actually feel not as alone in this struggle as I’ll admit I’ve been feeling some lately. But, above that, and more importantly, it also gave me a chance to read several very encouraging things.
To begin with, this fellow blogger, Tom, wrote that at one point he’d been able to resist pornography for about eight months. And he’d only masturbated once during that time. Being that those are two things I’ve been trying very seriously to resist the last couple of weeks, I have to say that I find this a great source of hope—if he could do that, then so can I (today, by the way, marks three days in a row that I haven’t masturbated or looked up pornography, and I thank God for that).
But in reading some of Tom’s stuff, I came across one post where he talks about a sermon he’d heard. The preacher, who was usually rather calm and mild, suddenly screamed out, “Stop it! Just stop it! No more! Let today be the day that you just leave that sin all behind you." I read this and it reminded me of something I experienced a few years ago. It reminded me of a dream. I’ve thought about this dream in light of a more recent one I had about a week ago, which I’ve already told you about. In the dream, I stood looking up at a really tall tree in my front yard, which stands near the road. I was amazed by the scale of the tree. Then suddenly my dad appeared. But it wasn’t really my dad. He looked and sounded like my dad, but I knew he was really someone else. He smiled at me and then told me, “Just stop.” And when He said it, I knew exactly what he was talking about. He was telling me to stop looking at porn. He was telling me to stop masturbating. He was telling me to stop going down a path of outright homosexual living. That was another dream where I woke up shaking, out of breath. It was just so realistic. And I knew the second I was awake what it meant. God was telling me, appearing as my dad, that I had a path to choose. I could go left or right, but only one would lead to the tree of life. Reading Tom’s post reminded me of this (I think I wrote about this dream in more detail sometime a few years ago).
I know pornography and masturbation are the two things that lead me most toward completely giving in to my desires to be with another man. These things tempt me the most toward that. That being the case, I really want to put up as much resolve as possible to stop doing those things.
A road block in the past for me has been my mindset. I’d rationalize going a day at a time, a week at a time, and so forth, as if that was good enough. I’d promise not to give in at least until a certain time. But then I’d always fail or give in after I’d met that expectation (as if it was a reward for past good effort). And the reason I sat such limited goals was because I honestly don’t think I ever expected I could go beyond them. To never, EVER, look up pornography or masturbate again just seemed impossible. Pornography I could probably live without. But could I really go the rest of my life without ever masturbating? Could I really go the rest of my life with absolutely no means of sexual release or pleasure? Looking back, I know I haven’t believed in that. But I wonder now if I really could. I know it’d be a struggle. I know it’d probably drive me crazy at times. But I also know that I want that; that it’s worth trying for. I want to be able to resist, to truly free myself from some of the crap I’ve encased myself in. I just want to stop. I want to resist because it’s the right thing to do, because it brings me closer to God.
And so, if you’re reading this, please pray for me. As I said earlier, I’m on day three, and I really, really, REALLY, want to be able to keep this up. And, Tom, if you happen to read this, thanks for writing about your own journey. You give me much encouragement.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
The Affect of Dreams
I’m not usually the sort of person who lets his nightly dreams bother him much, but every once in a while there is a dream so vivid, so realistic, and so profound that it just weighs on me and can cause me to adjust my behaviors or attitudes. Last night, I had one of those dreams. To put it more accurately, I had a nightmare.
It started off with my brother and me on a trip, driving through the country and into some small town in the hills. We got lost and ended up on a little road leading out into some woods. We found that the road dead-ended in a circle leading back out. There was another family parked just ahead. As we got out of the car to stretch our legs and look at the map, a couple of men came out of the woods and began harassing the other family. My brother and I approached to see if we could help. That’s when some guns were shown and all of us were marched off. The dream got a bit blurry at this point and began again with me at a younger age (maybe twelve or thirteen), as well as the rest of my family, being held up by gunpoint by a few other men and at least one woman in the home we used to live in. We were all in the living room, and mom suggested I go to the laundry room to get my clean clothes out (she suggested this with gestures insinuating that would be my opportunity to slip out of the house and get away for help). So, I went off to the laundry room. One of the men followed me though. He stopped outside of the room and I went in, quickly thinking about how to get away. After a minute or so, the man walked in behind me and closed the door. I was nervous and panicked about what he wanted. He looked me over and began telling me how attractive he thought I was. He wore an arrogant smile as he looked at me. He then turned me toward the washer and dryer and began pulling at my clothes. I protested in a quiet, scared, nervousness—which basically means I felt powerless to put up much of a fight. At this time, my dad was in the other room trying to get in to find out what was happening. I was ashamed for him to see and yelled for him to stay away. But it wasn’t just that I was ashamed. I didn’t want him to interrupt the attention I was getting from this good looking guy. The man then began raping me. I didn’t want him to, but at the same time I was enjoying it and didn’t really want him to stop either. When he’d finished, he turned me around. A woman friend of his was standing next to him. They were both smiling at me and talking curiously about me to each other. The man then told me to get down on my knees (for what purpose you should know). As I did, I saw his genitals for the first time. I stopped and just looked. He was covered with bumps. He laughed and told me, “Don’t you like what you see?” I felt disgusted and horrified, but also confused. I looked up at him and he told me he had herpes, and that he’d just given it to me. At this point I felt horrified. I just looked up at him and asked, “You gave me herpes on purpose?” He just laughed again, along with the woman, and they began talking about how stupid I was. I just sat there on the floor, on my knees, totally appalled, feeling completely assaulted and taken advantage of, crying. And then the dream ended. I woke up, at 4:00am, scared and panicky in my dark room. I was literally shaking. I got up and turned on the light in my closet (it was nearest) and I just stood there for a moment trying to catch my breath and realize that it was only a dream. It was, in every sense, a nightmare though. It was just so real.
I tell you this dream, and in full, because, as I said at the start, some dreams do have an impact on me. This was one of them. I know why I had this dream. The last few days I’ve been trying very hard not to masturbate. I’m on day five now, which I hope to continue, and which I will give full credit to God. But as if the lack of sexual release over the last few days wasn’t enough to promote such a dream, it was only advanced by the fact that I binged for a couple of hours yesterday looking at pornography. I tried to resist, but my resolve and willingness was admittedly not enough—I was feeling kind of down about it being Valentine’s Day and just honestly didn’t feel much like trying. Like yesterday, today, I wasn’t called in to work, and so I prayed and promised to God that with his help I’d make today what yesterday should have been. So far, I’ve kept that promise and I intend to keep it the whole day through and hopefully beyond just this day. I told you the dream I had because it was in having this dream that helped push me closer to God, to try harder for him, to seek out his guidance more, and to rely more on his help. This sort of thing happens every once and a while. And maybe God allowed such a dream to take root knowing that it would have such an impact on me. Regardless of the how and why of the dream, I know that I do not want to look at pornography at all today. I want to put forward the strongest resistance possible. And, likewise, I want to continue resisting any urges to masturbate.
Even though I’m sure none of us really ever like having a bad dream, I suppose a story like mine can prove that some good can come of them. God can reach us for His and our benefit in a variety (and sometimes even very unpleasant) of ways.
It started off with my brother and me on a trip, driving through the country and into some small town in the hills. We got lost and ended up on a little road leading out into some woods. We found that the road dead-ended in a circle leading back out. There was another family parked just ahead. As we got out of the car to stretch our legs and look at the map, a couple of men came out of the woods and began harassing the other family. My brother and I approached to see if we could help. That’s when some guns were shown and all of us were marched off. The dream got a bit blurry at this point and began again with me at a younger age (maybe twelve or thirteen), as well as the rest of my family, being held up by gunpoint by a few other men and at least one woman in the home we used to live in. We were all in the living room, and mom suggested I go to the laundry room to get my clean clothes out (she suggested this with gestures insinuating that would be my opportunity to slip out of the house and get away for help). So, I went off to the laundry room. One of the men followed me though. He stopped outside of the room and I went in, quickly thinking about how to get away. After a minute or so, the man walked in behind me and closed the door. I was nervous and panicked about what he wanted. He looked me over and began telling me how attractive he thought I was. He wore an arrogant smile as he looked at me. He then turned me toward the washer and dryer and began pulling at my clothes. I protested in a quiet, scared, nervousness—which basically means I felt powerless to put up much of a fight. At this time, my dad was in the other room trying to get in to find out what was happening. I was ashamed for him to see and yelled for him to stay away. But it wasn’t just that I was ashamed. I didn’t want him to interrupt the attention I was getting from this good looking guy. The man then began raping me. I didn’t want him to, but at the same time I was enjoying it and didn’t really want him to stop either. When he’d finished, he turned me around. A woman friend of his was standing next to him. They were both smiling at me and talking curiously about me to each other. The man then told me to get down on my knees (for what purpose you should know). As I did, I saw his genitals for the first time. I stopped and just looked. He was covered with bumps. He laughed and told me, “Don’t you like what you see?” I felt disgusted and horrified, but also confused. I looked up at him and he told me he had herpes, and that he’d just given it to me. At this point I felt horrified. I just looked up at him and asked, “You gave me herpes on purpose?” He just laughed again, along with the woman, and they began talking about how stupid I was. I just sat there on the floor, on my knees, totally appalled, feeling completely assaulted and taken advantage of, crying. And then the dream ended. I woke up, at 4:00am, scared and panicky in my dark room. I was literally shaking. I got up and turned on the light in my closet (it was nearest) and I just stood there for a moment trying to catch my breath and realize that it was only a dream. It was, in every sense, a nightmare though. It was just so real.
I tell you this dream, and in full, because, as I said at the start, some dreams do have an impact on me. This was one of them. I know why I had this dream. The last few days I’ve been trying very hard not to masturbate. I’m on day five now, which I hope to continue, and which I will give full credit to God. But as if the lack of sexual release over the last few days wasn’t enough to promote such a dream, it was only advanced by the fact that I binged for a couple of hours yesterday looking at pornography. I tried to resist, but my resolve and willingness was admittedly not enough—I was feeling kind of down about it being Valentine’s Day and just honestly didn’t feel much like trying. Like yesterday, today, I wasn’t called in to work, and so I prayed and promised to God that with his help I’d make today what yesterday should have been. So far, I’ve kept that promise and I intend to keep it the whole day through and hopefully beyond just this day. I told you the dream I had because it was in having this dream that helped push me closer to God, to try harder for him, to seek out his guidance more, and to rely more on his help. This sort of thing happens every once and a while. And maybe God allowed such a dream to take root knowing that it would have such an impact on me. Regardless of the how and why of the dream, I know that I do not want to look at pornography at all today. I want to put forward the strongest resistance possible. And, likewise, I want to continue resisting any urges to masturbate.
Even though I’m sure none of us really ever like having a bad dream, I suppose a story like mine can prove that some good can come of them. God can reach us for His and our benefit in a variety (and sometimes even very unpleasant) of ways.
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