Ten years old.
That’s when it started. I had begun to feel strange urges to look at women without their clothes on, but couldn’t bring myself to talk about these feelings with my parents. Instead, I gave in. Using the Internet Explorer on my Wii U, I exposed myself, completely unaware of the dark world of pornography I had just uncovered.
I didn’t even know what sex was, let alone know about the multi-billion dollar industry that preyed on young souls just like me. I was horrified and disgusted at what I saw that day, and remember laying in bed for hours, claiming to be sick, begging God to take the images from my mind.
Never did I consider confession; I was far more afraid of my parents’ reaction than of the demon I had let into my life. But I would come to realize that I was scared of the wrong thing.
I had become a Christian at a young age, and to this day believe I had some sliver of saving faith even throughout my entire multi-year struggle with pornography and masturbation. But it was indeed a sliver; I would read books upon books about all the disciplines godly young men should have, and strived to keep every single one to the letter, all except for purity. I thought that if I could do enough good things, God would forget about my lust. I had forgotten the Gospel. I was living two different lives, like a double agent in my own skin.
From my very first exposure, I knew what I was doing was wrong. From my very first exposure, I had been trying to quit. But I lacked the power promised in 1 John 1:9; without confession, without accountability, God would not cleanse me from all unrighteousness. He made it clear from the beginning that my only way out of this was His way, not mine.
Eventually, I had enough. I came to the point where I realized I could either confess my sin, or live as a slave for the rest of my life. I must not have understood my parents very well, and I definitely didn’t understand God very well, because I thought the latter must have been livid at me and the former would ground me for life. But I decided that I would rather sit alone in my room and never have fun again than to continue having the “fun” falsely promised by my secret life.
So I confessed. All at once, all in an instant, I wasn’t alone anymore. If indeed I ever was, for God was always with me; He never once approved of my sinful actions, yet never once left me on account of them. His mercy was, is, and always will be stronger than all of my sin. And now that I had confessed and opened myself to accountability, so was my power to change.
But even though I had made a decision to invite others into my life, that didn’t mean I was instantly free. What began over the next few months after my confession has become years of a cycle of sin, confession, repentance, and sanctification. Each time I go through the cycle, I come out a little wiser, a little more self-controlled, and a lot more humble. Which I need, because accountability demands it.
One of the greatest victories I think I’ve experienced isn’t in the realm of fighting lust at all, but instead in the realm of fighting the root of all sin: my pride. God used my enslavement to lust in my past life and my current struggle with lust in my current life to reveal to me just how imperfect and in need of Him I am. Without constant failure, I fall into the trap of thinking that maybe I’m good enough on my own, and that maybe I don’t need God.
So yes, I do still struggle with lust. I still have to use an ad blocker, I still can’t watch YouTube late at night, I still can’t enjoy anime anything, and any time I compromise on these or a dozen other fronts, I still fall. So no, as great as Covenant Eyes is, it didn’t cure me, nor was it meant to. I see Covenant Eyes not as a cure, but as a cast; it puts the broken pieces of my purity back into the right place, and protects it long enough so that it can heal.
But just like a cast for our physical bodies, which only works if our broken bones heal themselves, Covenant Eyes won’t work unless I’m willing to be healed.
I think this willingness to be healed has a name: integrity. It goes very much in hand with what God said about David in 1 Samuel 13:14, where God called David a man after His own heart. David, for the record, also struggled with lust, as well as with lying, adultery, and murder in order to satisfy and cover up his lust. So why does God call David, an adulterous, murderous creep, a man after His own heart? I think it has to do with David’s response to his sin.
After being confronted by Nathan the prophet about his wrongdoings, David is broken and repents toward God; this is where we get Psalm 51. This is David’s response every time he sins: he runs back to God. He knows he’s broken, and he wants to be healed.
This is part of what I think it means to have integrity. Everyone knows the part of integrity where we’re supposed to “do the right thing, even when nobody’s watching.” However, I’ve always felt that this is incomplete; after all, isn’t God always watching? Integrity is more than just being good when alone; it’s being willing to be healed. It’s being a man (or woman) after God’s own heart. Because without that willingness, it doesn’t even matter if people are watching. If we don’t want to be healed, even the best cast won’t work.
There are ways to get past every content blocker; believe me, I know. And even if there wasn’t, we can’t run away from our own minds, which are the theaters for the darkest and most savage lustful fantasies. We have to be willing not only to have our screens held accountable but also our minds and hearts.
We must be willing to have the full meaning of integrity.
Eighteen years old. That’s how old I am now. As of today, I have been free from masturbation and porn for years. I feel confident being online again. I can play games like Super Smash Brothers, which has several instances of scantily-clad women, in a way that avoids the temptations and keeps me from falling. I’m not perfect, and I still struggle, but the things I struggle with now are a whole lot less severe than the things I struggled with in my early teens.
And even despite the access that I will have to sexual activity once I go off to college, I’m not worried, because I have my cast, because I have my God, and because I have my integrity.
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