I grew up reading comic books. My very first one was a copy of the Teen Titans that I bought at a local convenient store while visiting friends. It was so cool to see the bad guys losing. The heroes always won back in those days. I remember reading my first copy of Superman and… Continue reading We Need A Hero
Catie gives us a powerful and honest look into the world of women who struggle with pornography and masturbation.
So much in this post spoke to me, but this ““Girls don’t struggle with that stuff.” And that’s a big fat freaking lie. It’s lies like these that prevent confession, cheating women of the freedom they could experience in overcoming this sin. Because when we experience the freedom to confess even the darkest of our darkness, we can fight together. We don’t want to struggle well, we want to QUIT THE STRUGGLE, putting the sin to death and chasing after the redemption story Jesus writes for us daily. And God has designed us to do that TOGETHER” is the truth! And as long as people, especially the church, think women do not struggle then true freedom can not be had.
IT’S NOT JUST A MANS STRUGGLE!
I wonder if I’m a girl you’d think struggles with sex.
Isn’t that what we all wonder? Maybe it’s not sex, pornography, or even masturbation, but you struggle secretly with a dark sin and wonder if others would ever guess. For me though?
It’s sex. Or at least it has been for several years. Sometimes I feel like I’ve finally overcome it, but then I fall short again and my heart sinks and the insecurities come crashing in just to remind me of how disgusting I am.
The first time I watched pornography, I was in 4th grade. I was 9 years old. And it wasn’t even on purpose, it was a total accident that I couldn’t turn away from. I hadn’t even had a period yet, or even knew what the heck it was. And there I was, learning all about what I needed to look like to…
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There was once this young man that had seen things he should not have for his age. Living in a trailer park growing up, this young man, child I should say, saw older kids at the playground taking off their clothes and doing things to each other. It made him feel uncomfortable so he would… Continue reading The Playground
Guys, when you tell your wife how beautiful she is and her reaction is to turn around in circles and go “where” or “ who are you talking to” I know it hurts. I have felt that pain before...many times. Those words are the ones my wife used. Many times while my wife was taking… Continue reading Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder
I love doing puzzles. It was a hobby that turned into a passion there for a while. I was fascinated by dragons in high school, so most of the puzzles I did had dragons somewhere within the photo. I had one where a wizard had just defeated a dragon and smoke was coming up off… Continue reading The World’s Largest Puzzle
Man I so wanted my dad to spend time with me growing up. So I took up hunting, fishing and even golf to be able to spend time with him. I wanted to be as good as my dad at playing golf so I practiced everyday all day during the summers, when I wasn't with… Continue reading From One Course To Another
Check out this awesome quote from dear Tosin’s dad…
“Tosin, you can’t live to please everyone. If you tried, you’ll never be who God made you. What pleases the first person you meet might not please the next, soon you’ll forget who you really are, and you’ll be a chameleon changing colours only to survive but never really living!”
How many of us wish our parents had said that to us as teens?
Now, go read Tosin’s amazing post! Heck, if your like me, read it twice. Then share it so others can be ministered to.
I’m dented. In many places, I have dents – dents and scratches from the ‘hit-and-runs’ of life and her mercenaries. Dents from her words and his actions and dents from their stares. I’ve lost, in many ways, the purity of my identity; the way my Creator fashioned me: for the sake of conformity.
I dent, daily.
I struggle. I remember being young and looking for love in all the wrong places because I was consumed by a need – an empty space inside that needed to be filled, so I filled it with all the wrong things and all the wrong bits around the wrong people. I dented my identity to fit into those circles when my mould wasn’t so elastic, so it broke . . . and I still struggle.
“You’re too loud, hush!”
“You’re too playful, halt!”
You’re too . . . not like me, stop!”
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