For the lie that fuels porn, truth that frees

Today, I’m going to speak as plainly and as carefully as I know how. As I write, my heart is attuned to the voice of the Spirit, and I’ve asked Him to full-guide my pen. It–and I–am His.

I understand that the topic I am going to address is complicated, fraught with great pain, torment, fear, and, of course, mountains of shame. It’s not a subject I like to discuss. I wish someone else could do the teaching, but after all that a good, good, loving Father has done in my life and my husband’s, I do not dare refuse to offer hope, to obey.

Here we go.

I’m going to talk to you today about bodies, about shame, about pornography, and about a very significant lie that contributes to and undergirds the whole, rotten kablooie. It is a truth the Lord revealed to my husband during what I think of as his “great breaking.” It was a horrific and very dark, extended night of the soul in which God brought him to the absolute and utter end of himself, broke every single bone, and then with the utmost mercy, gentleness and compassion, began to reset all that had been broken and made it straight.

Someday, he may tell the story. But that is his.

Anyway, it was during that time that he cried out to the Lord, face flat on the floor, weeping into the carpet at his office, asking to be delivered from the iron chains of lust, of hatred, of anger, of bitterness. And it was then that God began to move and to teach.

I will not recount here all that he learned, but one of the things that he began to tell me (which for months and months boggled my mind and caused me great confusion) was this: that the body is not strictly sexual. Having been raised in a conservative, legalistic culture and environment, it was something I could scarcely conceive. Could hardly wrap my brain around. For we had always been taught, whether through words or through ancillary teachings and regulations, that the body was primarily sexual, that it was an instrument of lust and temptation, that a man would never fail–indeed, could not fail to be sexually aroused at the mere sight of a woman.

The men were told (yes, they were) that a woman’s body would automatically trigger lust, desire, and evil intent. They began to believe that looking at a woman, clothed or unclothed, would bring fulfillment. Would answer their question (“am I truly a man?”). Would meet the heart’s cry for true love.

We women believed, then, that our value was in our sexuality, our bodies. That men desired that first, that they’d devour it. Which meant that we decided that our value, our worth was based upon our physical shape, the size of our breasts, waists, hips and thighs. That physical perfection would bring that fulfillment. Would answer our question (“am I truly beautiful?”). Would meet the heart’s cry for true love.

But the damnable thing was, it didn’t work. Because men never questioned the lie, they unknowingly walked into a demonic trap. The church said, “It’s sexual! You’ll lust!” The world said, “It’s sexual! Please do lust!” Two sides of the same hellish coin. Ironic, isn’t it, that the church and the world agree?

Because women never questioned the lie, we lived in torment. “I’m dangerous! I’m shameful! I’m imperfect, so I’m worth-less.”

And we’ve suffered.

We were created to be sexual beings. And that’s good, so very good. But it’s not all that God has intended.

Our bodies, each one, were made with such careful and loving intention. First, for us to live in; a house, if you will, for the soul. Second, in a miraculous and breathtaking mystery, our bodies were crafted…

To hold the living God. A sanctuary, pure, holy, good.

Then there’s this. If our bodies were strictly, first and foremost, ever and only sexual, then we should, absolutely must, hide it all away. And if that were true, then the Amish and the Muslims should be the purest, freest people on the planet.

You know, I know, we all know that that’s not true. There’s so much bondage and enslavement in those religions, and their women have suffered deeply. That can’t be what Christ intended.

Until and unless we begin to see the body correctly, that it’s not a sexual object. Until and unless we begin to understand what the human heart is TRULY seeking, a healthy, loving, emotional connection, then all the accountability groups in the world will never work. All of the rigid programs and regulations and restrictions and outward changes and measures we try to assume, they will never work.

My husband walks in total freedom now. He no longer believes that my body is strictly sexual. He does not believe that his own body is strictly sexual. He does not look at women and see sexual objects–no matter what they are or aren’t wearing. He sees people. Souls. Individuals of great worth. Temples, beautifully crafted, that hold God, that house humans.

My husband now knows that what really arouses him sexually, what his heart was desiring all along, was that emotional connection with one girl. And that’s me, in exactly the shape that I’m in.

But back, now, to that house, and that picture. As I lay in bed last night, grappling with this whole concept, it was as though the Lord lifted me up and allowed me to look down upon our home. I saw all of the different rooms. Saw the kitchen where so much good stuff happens. I listen to the children talking about work, about school. I mix, bake and cook for my family. That kitchen’s the heart of our home. So delightful.

I saw the dining room where we eat and we laugh, we pray and connect after a long, busy day out in the world. I saw, yes, our bedroom, a place of great intimacy. A delightful piece in our marriage. So important!

Our house, our home, with all of its rooms where so much living and loving takes place. Our hearts with those rooms, including a precious piece (but only a piece) for sexuality. All right. All good. All blessed.

For Him, for His kingdom, for freedom and victory,

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