We are his boys, and like any good father, He wants to see us learn to succeed and fight for ourselves.  God wants his boys to be pure, but not at the cost of becoming warriors.  That is why we must learn to fight spiritually.  I had a friend who said it this way “I used to struggle with lust, now I battle it.”  After going through LFL, lust is still present, but you are equipped to fight against it.  I don’t know of any better preparation for a man or woman to become a powerful insturment for the sake of God’s Kingdom than to learn how to fight lust, in all of its forms, in his or her life.  

 The process is far from easy, and if you fail (and you probably will) you have the opportunity to recieve the forgiveness of Christ, embrace your identity that comes from Him, and then move on in humility and strength.  The rest of this blog was written by a friend–a warrior who stumbled and had to choose whether he wanted to give up, or get up and keep fighting.  I hope you enjoy reading his thoughts as much as I did.

Strutz

It’s been rough recently, especially the last four days … I won’t get into it, but I’ve basically walked away from Jesus in order to serve this manifestation that comes at me once in a while. 

I finally got on my knees broken about it all and this is what came out of it.  I just figured I’d share it with you. 

I fail to see the extent of my salvation.Through all my wretchedness and evil defaults, I am perfected in Christ.Though I waiver and flip-flop and fall, Christ never leaves my side.Though I drag his name through the mud, he never returns the favor.

I stand in the crowds shouting for the execution of Christ, and he stands before the Father on MY behalf.

Somehow he endures to love me.Its not that he loves me because he expected better, he just simply loves me. My world extends to just a few inches beyond my reach, and I’m in the center.Christ is drawing me into his world, a limitless, timeless, divine spiritual world. With no wants or desires, just simple dependence.A place of truth, clarity, sound justice, and tranquility.But I choose to abide by the ways of the deceiver more than the ways of the Holy One.

Why?

I see the world through MY eyes, not Christ’s. I make decisions in order to serve MY world.  Anything within reach, exactly when I want it. Even God’s glory in me is pandered for the glory I can receive. To trade the Joy and Peace of Christ, for human recognition? I must choose the path of the lowly. He who gains the whole world but forfeits his own soul, gains dust. He who calls on the Lord will be eternally grateful. I will call on the Name of The Lord in all times. I am bought with a price, a large, gruesome, painful, agonizing price. My actions prove me to be thankless.  Who am I to be seated in the heavenly? The seat has been chosen for me.  It is not mine to earn.  Will I fill it or will I fall short?I must then defend that seat, uphold what it means to take that seat. I am a member of the body of Disciples at that table. I am inaugurated into the Holy body through the sanctification of my physical body. How can I serve a bigger body, with a broken, un-maintained, tainted and broken one to start with? How can I begin to serve a greater master, when I can’t stop serving myself?

Why must I wallow in the inadequacy of myself, when I can claim total fulfillment through the love and acceptance of Christ? Why would I waste my time serving anyone else?  Seeking anything less? A lessor god. Wasn’t I created for better, greater things than these?  Hasn’t my Father hand selected me for great duties? I have been chosen for glorious affairs, righteous ways, and divine leadership. I have been hand selected for such greater actions than this. If I am to be a reflection of Christ, what good is it to cover myself with sin? Why would I choose to reflect anything less than a pure, flawless, resemblance of Christ? Do I want to be a half decent Jesus?  Or maybe just 3/4? How ridiculous!! 

I am so inadequate. My desires, my reasoning, my decision making is beyond childish. I freely toss away all my Godliness, in an effort to appease my every fleeting desire. I am prideful to the point that I am more important than God. Not in the world around me, I recognize his awesome power, and divine Nature.  I get that. But in my life, I am my own God. I say, “Why please something or someone else, when I can please myself?  No matter how big or cool He is.” But He says, “Why would I love you any less, why would I care for you any less? Why would I lose you when I went through all this work to have you?  I chose you, now come to me.  I earned your trust, I earned your enlistment on the cross.  You’ve been chosen for this battalion, you’ve been chosen for this battle.  You’ve been equipped, trained, and armed with great and powerful weapons.” He tells me I must stop taking off my armor, in order to reach my pathetic, fragile self. Because I remove my plate and mail, so I can reveal my naked self, so I can gain access to the fleshly desires once again. I tear off my protection, I throw away my defenses. I close my eyes, open my naked chest, and extend my feeble arms for an embrace with the Devil. I lay down my righteousness, in exchange for my sin. Without the provisions of Christ, I am naked, and embarrassingly inadequate. When equipped, and dressed for battle, my strength does not lie in me, nor how well I can swing my sword. For I believe that if it were up to my own ability to use his armament, I would be an utter failure, a lost cause, a child drowning in a gladiator’s vestment. But my success at demolishing the enemy lies in the victory and success of Christ. Specifically, the victory and success of Christ in my own life. It’s my faith in the sword, it’s my faith in the Shield, and it’s my Faith in the Christ within.  Until I release all strongholds, and let go of myself. Until I choose not to seek my own power, might, pleasure, or peace.  Until I can break through the lies, and realize my helplessness, realize my eternal fallen nature, Only then can I see the truth, only then can Christ’s power fill my veins.  Only then can my weak and formless chassis, finally take on the towering image of Christ.

The power is in the truth.  The truth will set Christ free in me.

All my Praises go to the Holy God, who somehow, graciously delights in me.

God calls us His children.  I think the truth and severity of this concept has been largely lost to Christians over the age of six.  I remember hearing it in Sunday school when I was a little kid, but I never made too much of it.  It was only logical.  After all, I was a child, and according to my theological understanding, God owned everything, so it only made sense that I was His child.  About the time I was nine, like most boys my age I was intent on being a big kid, and got offended at the very thought of being called a child.  So my Sunday School teacher stopped telling me that I was God’s child and mostly just tried to keep my attention with flannel graphs about Samson killing Philistines.

Of course, growing up does not make you any less of God’s child, and the more you understand what it means to be a child of God, the better you will know yourself, and understand your role in the world.  In most cultures, your father is your source of identity. How many boring biblical genealogies have you seen that read like this? Naggai was son of Maath.  Maath was son of Mattathias.  Mattathias was son of…you get the point. This sounds fairly archaic, but we still see this pattern in many of the surnames we use today.  How many Petersons or Thomsons do you know?  Despite its simple practicality, this method could be the closest we will ever come to actually understanding someone.     

It is impossible to truly capture the essence of a human, to know and understand its being.  This difficulty is not just about understanding others; it also applies to the self.  Young men are especially indicative of this struggle—always probing and searching, they need to know who they are, what they are made of.  This creates all sorts of problems, especially in the era of the extreme makeover.  Much youth is wasted by boys and girls trying to figure out who they are.  This quest takes them in and out of cliques, and follows them to college and adult life.  It drives careers and dictates families. Then, if the question if a satisfactory answer was ever was given in the first place, the question is drug up again by a midlife crisis. 

We live in a culture of identity crises which is only prolonged and further complicated by the fact that society tells us that we can reinvent ourselves as many times as Madonna, and that our identity can be purchased with a new pair of shoes or an expensive sports car.

Knowing who your father is helps make sense of your life, past, present and future, it illuminates your history and directs where you go.  The son inherits the father’s physical traits: eyes, laugh, build and also his personality traits, sense of humor, intelligence, work ethic, etc.  Also, from the father, or father figure, young men are instructed and shown what it means to be a man.  They learn how to swing a baseball bat, tie a fisherman’s knot, and often they also learn a trade.  Fathers teach their sons the principles and values which dictate the decisions they make. It is from the father that a son learns who he is and understands his place in the story of life.   

Fathers have tremendous authority in the lives of their children.  This is undoubtedly why they are also able to inflict wounds.  I don’t know a single man who has not been in some way wounded by his father.  Even good fathers, who have great relationships with their sons leave wounds of some sort—questions they failed to answer, doubts they unknowingly affirmed, fears they accidentally caused.  It is the nature of the position.  Fathers have the ability to name and define their sons, but the power is too great to wield, and boys are left feeling incomplete, if not damaged by their fathers. 

But knowing your earthly father is only a small pieced to the puzzle of self.  If you really want to know yourself, you also need to understand who your heavenly father is.  After all, just like your earthly father, you bare His traits as well.  You were created in His image, alikeness much truer than physical features alone.  And as His child, His spirit dwells in you, a spirit which trumps personality, and is able to correct and perfect personality traits given by your earthly father.  For instance, my dad has a bit of a temper, and I often find myself loosing mine in much the same way as he can.  Fortunately for both of us, God’s spirit is also inside of us, the fruit of which is among other things, patience and self control.    

God’s desire is for us to know that we are His children—His boys and His girls.  He loves his children with the fiercest kind of love; a love so powerful and so perfect that when you are truly resting in it, there is no room for fear.  God’s love is so strong, and his authority so complete that it He is able heal wounds left by our earthly fathers, and answer the questions that have crippled us.  Those who never knew their fathers can still know that they are the beloved son of the King of Kings.  

God also instructs His sons, and tells them what they should do and how they should act.  His children become coheirs with Christ, to the Kingdom that He established, and as such, we have tremendous authority and tremendous responsibility to continue to build His Kingdom.

Jesus told his disciples that they should have faith like little children.  One thing that strikes me about little boys is the way they look up to their fathers.  A boy’s Dad is his hero: he can handle any situation and beat up any other kid’s dad.  A father is a source of pride, security and ultimately identity for a young boy.  And knowing who our heavenly father is can do the same for us if we are willing to become children again.

At the slightest hint of progress, we think that we have finally unlocked the cure only to relapse in a couple of days, or months, or hours; crushing all hope of actually being free.  Most of us ride this roller coaster up and down long enough that there is no longer enough inertia for anything but a slow, dejected roll.  Eventually, the struggle wears us out. Failing hurts worse when you try hard, and when it hurts enough for long enough, we end up hopeless and apathetic, accepting the fate of our disease. We accept that sexual sin will be a part of our life, and resign ourselves to simply try to manage it rather than fighting to be free from it all together.

Such hopelessness is a disastrous for followers of Christ. As Peter says, we are born into a living hope through the resurrection of Christ.  This hope is not in our ability to cure ourselves from sexual sin, or in some secret method to alleviate our desires, but rather in Jesus Christ, the Risen Lord.   The gospel is all about hope. When Jesus first started his ministry, he announced that he had come to set the captives free and heal those who are sick.  His life was about bringing hope to those who had none.  A life lived in Christ is distinguished by a living hope in Christ, a hope for the freedom he promised.

The struggle is real, but through Christ, freedom is always possible.  If you are reading this and still skeptical, I invite you to investigate LFL further, it can nott cure you, or set you free, but it does a great job of pointing to Christ and giving some practical advice about how to walk in the freedom that Christ has for all of us.  If you have been through LFL, or have experienced freedom from lust and sexual sin, please share your story or experiences here. Sharing our stories is a great way to encourage others to live in hope.