Encouragement

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My sexual addiction had been peacefully subdued for what seemed like a very long time. A porn filter controlled by an outside company had been installed on my PC for a year. I hadn’t intriqued or acted out in any way for many months. I'd had no TV, movies, newspapers or magazines for 15 months. My life was simply prayer, Bible study, fellowship, and the building of my new business.

This retreat from media of all kinds went a long way in a short time to achieve a mental renewal. I have learned that everything that goes into our eyes and our ears is food for our souls. Garbage in, garbage out. I am still mostly in this same media blackout. When I do venture back, I am all the more aware of the confused logic that I read and the cultural propaganda that I view. And if I wallow in this muck too long, if I get fascinated by the images, if I get drawn in to the debates, I need to take soul baths with prayer and the Word to get recentered in the Lord's Spirituality.

I also stayed away from the valley where my old haunts were still available. I did not want to be tempted to stray from the beautiful path of freedom He had put me on. Besides, that area left me cold every time I thought about it.

I did have to go to a medical center south of the valley once a month for a blood test, and I even had to be extra cautious there. On one of these visits the Lord taught me a beautiful truth about His Presence wherever I may go.

As I said, things had been going very smoothly in my recovery. After a local men's prayer meeting in the morning, I ran some errands and started out over the hill to an 11:00 am appointment at the hospital. As I descended on the winding mountain road, my head became filled with an erotic image that I just could not clear. My mind had been an eros-free zone for so long, it was easy to spot and isolate the invading vignette. If it stayed, it would not be long before I went somewhere the Lord does not want me to go.

At that period in my walk, a pleading defense of the Blood of Jesus Christ was usually enough to send such temptations away, but there was a part of my own nature that had a craving, that felt neglected, that decided to unserve God because it felt it deserved something. I fought the thought and kept it at bay, but dismissal was failing, it wanted to stay. I was, as yet, unaware of the full power of resistance the Holy Spirit offers if I am willing to take it.

I managed to get into the hospital’s parking lot half an hour early and, though I had planned on doing some lab work before seeing a doctor, I knew I would be a mess if I went inside the hospital in the wrinkled state I was in. I still had many spiritual hooks in me that made me easy prey to other spirits. I just wasn’t up to my usual ability to stave off being trapped by the eyes of the needy spirits of others. When I walked with Him, most of these validation hungry souls wondered what was going on with me and I, myself, was amazed at my peacefulness and equilibrium. When I walk in me, they seemed to know how weak and empty I was. I had been learning to gauge my condition at any given time. That morning, I decided I was incapable of leaving my company van.

I grabbed my cell phone and tried to call my spiritual father, but I couldn't. I thought about phoning other accountability partners I had at the time, but, again, I could not muster the will to make a call. Nor did I have the power to repel the thought picture that was still assailing my mind.

"Okay, Lord. It's just You and me. I'm stuck. What do I do now?"

(I realized later that that was the wrong prayer. "Okay, Lord. Show me what YOU can do!" would have been more appropriate.)

I waited. I prayed in my prayer tongue as I do when I can not organize needs into words. My mind was aware that I must have looked like I was dozing in the van. My head was down. My shoulders were slouched. I was near to tears and the fantasy was still there. Things seemed very silent for a couple of more minutes when I heard a voice outside my partially opened window.

"I hate to disturb whatever you're doing in there, but I've been waiting to talk with you."

I looked out the van window to my left and there was a stocky man with a graying mustache, and a black cap and t-shirt that both advertized, "Rivershine Waterless Auto Detail". He had a prominent cross hanging from a chain outside of his t-shirt. I smiled politely and rolled down the window. He started explaining about his multi-level marketing business. Since my van was emblazoned with "Bob Mueller's Pressure Washing", he thought that detailing cars may be a part of my business. He was taking a shot that I might be a prospective distributor for his product.

As he talked I dazed a look at the business card he had given to me and I noted that his listed name was "Minister Bruce E. Rivers". I was still in my funk and was barely listening. My feebled mind finally pieced together the cross around his neck and his business card title. I abruptly interrupted his spiel.

"Are you a Christian?"

"Praise God, yes!"

"I'm under attack," I gulped.

I don’t remember what he said but things changed very quickly as soon as I made that admission to him. He moved powerfully closer, reached quickly through my window, decisively grabbed my left hand, and immediately raised his free hand to the sky. He boldly and confidently began to pray to Jesus on my behalf. His booming words and posture in such a public place made me both cringe and rejoice inside. All I could eke out within myself was “thank you, jesus.” He finished his very complete prayer and we ended together with an "Amen.”

He stumbled a bit as he move back from the van and tried to negotiated the curb that I was parked right next to. I weakly held on to his hand in an attempt to help steady him. He apologized for his seeming clumsiness and explained that when he prays “like that” he can not always recovery [his equilibrium] immediately.

My mind was clear enough to give him a brief history of my addiction and I explained what sort of attack I had been having. He was amazed at how it mirrored his own story that he quickly shared with me. His straight forward confessions shored up my trust in him as well as our bond in Christ.

It was time for my appointment and we walked into the registration area praising God for His divine appointment for us. He shared that he had thought the Lord wanted him to talk to me about the detailing business. His massive frame beamed all over as he expressed his joy that our Father had him there for "Family [of God] Business!" instead!

Inside, he introduced me to his wife who had an appointment as well. We all saw each other here and there over the next hour or so. We talked a bit when the opportunity presented itself. They left before I did and he gave me a bear hug and told me that he loved me. I barely managed to tell him that I loved him, too. My weak words did nothing to express the gratitude I was feeling inside.

When I was alone I realized that though my mind had been cleared, I was very weak. Whether emotionally, or spiritually, or both, I didn’t know. My many experiences since than of deliverance have taught me about such ‘hangovers’. The more my old nature had wanted to participate in its old ways, the more withdrawal time it took to recovery.

Cleansing tears came to my closed eyes as I waited for this appointment and that lab test. More and more flowed on my trip back home. The inability to cry for most of my 50 plus years was a symptom of the spiritual bondage that reflected in my emotional emptiness. Unwept tears burned my soul away like an acid. They seared my conscience nearly to the point of eternal death.

The tears I cry now are seldom so painfully desperate and I still treasure them all, as He does. I’m glad he’s keeping them in a bottle. They are real evidence of His healing work in my heart and His salving work in my spirit.

Praise God, yes!

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