A few weeks ago I panicked. I rarely ever panic.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, researching and writing. I usually sit facing the windows with my back to the room – kids playing and doing assignments behind me, often coming to ask questions every few minutes – math, handwriting assignments, the nature of Infinity Stones, monoglycerides…you know, life.
I typed what I thought was an innocuous inquiry into my search engine and was immediately blasted with a full page of hardcore pornography of the worst kind. My heart raced and I began to feel the heat of terror in my neck. I didn’t know what to do and the milliseconds ticked away. My first thought was of my kids playing behind me. Were they seeing this, or were they occupied? I couldn’t tell because I was turned the other way. My next thought was my wife. She was in the bathroom, also behind me. What would happen if she came out and saw my screen? Would she believe me when I told her it was an accident? So many times in years past it hadn’t been. What would happen now?
The clock was ticking. It had been almost a full three seconds and I still wasn’t sure what to do. I saw a couple of the images before I bounced my eyes away – a tactic learned through hard experience. Should I close the page? My computer is notoriously slow to close pages. Back button? Minimize it? Where are the kids right now?
I decided I’d grab the laptop up off the table and spin around to keep the kids from seeing it. Five seconds had passed. Now I stood in the kitchen with a laptop full of porn on the screen and I heard the toilet flushing. My wife would emerge from the door across from me any second. This looks really, really bad. But I didn’t want to look back at the screen. God help me. I decide to summon the discipline to look at the top bar only and hit the minimize button. Now what?
My wife walks out of the bathroom. Before she can see me, I call for help: “Babe, something popped up on my computer screen and it’s really bad. I typed in _______ and got some – careful, kids are listening – really, er, inappropriate results. I’m sorry. Can you help me?”
And I hope for the best.
I used to be heavily addicted to pornography. My first experience was when I was six years old. There was a gravel pit with dirt mounds at the end of our street where we rode bikes, and one of the neighbor boys had a few pieces of a magazine he’d stashed there. I didn’t understand what it was then, but I did later. By the time I was in high school I had a handy supply of my own – lifted from compost bins, elaborately mail-ordered with a complex method I couldn’t believe worked, recorded from late night cable channels – all hidden.
By the time I got married, the addiction was less severe — regular sex has a way of taming the beast – but still, it lurked. It took several years and plenty of heartache for God to bring us to a place of healing, but He did.
Did I mention my wife is amazing?
Through all of the hard conversations, revelations of deceit on my part, internal dialogues regarding self-image and value on her part, and my best efforts to try and reassure her of my devotion — that all of her, is more than enough for me – she stayed. She has always stayed. Even when her hot Irish eyes wanted to shove a rotten potato down my throat, she stayed.
The years of rebuilding trust have been hard, but our marriage and our intimacy are stronger now in our forties than it ever was in our twenties and thirties. But it all started with that same panicky feeling I was feeling the other day.
For years, even after finding Christ’s healing and forgiveness, I was scared to come clean about the past sins and the current struggle. Every time I was close to telling her, that panicky, shaking feeling would come on. My heart beat faster, my throat and neck got hot, and I succumbed to the fear and shrank back. Then one day I gave the fear a name, Goliath. You know the story; Goliath taunts the Israelites and only David is so sure of his God that he knows the enemy will fail. I knew my wife would forgive me, so why was I so paralyzed by Goliath?
I told her. She continued to love me. She cried, and continued to love me. She learned to trust me, and to help me. I learned to place guardrails up in my life, such as:
- Only using the computer in a position that others can see the screen.
- Using a browser (Firefox) that allows plugins that eliminate the ability to use private browsing (called incognito on Chrome), and removes the ability to delete individual pages in history.
- Setting up Norton Family on every mobile device and the kids computers.
- Keeping my search settings to moderate or strict.
- Calling or texting a couple of guy friends anytime the temptation creeps in.
- Having my wife check up on me, asking me frequently, “How are you doing lately?”
It’s not perfect because neither are we. A few years ago after the first tablet – and later my first smartphone – made their way onto our home, the prowling enemy had his way and I fell off the wagon. Once again I had to go through the confession, rebuild trust, set up new guardrails to beat new technology, which seems designed to make hiding our secrets from the people we love easier.
Is this you? Does any of this sound familiar?
How did the other day happen? My wife and I noticed the safe search setting on my browser got turned off, and that was all it took. Welcome back to the dog vomit, my friend, there is plenty to go around. What did she do? She cleared the screen for me. She forgave me for seeing what I saw, because even though its appearance on my screen was an accident, pornography’s mere existence is an assault on her, on all women, and on sexuality itself. Did you know sex was God’s idea? He made it, and it’s awesome, and we love it, but it can also be dangerous — like fire, and physics, and love.
If this is your story, know there is always another chapter. Like a Choose Your Own Adventure, it can go several different directions. You need help.
My computer has a name. I call him Samwise because I’m a Lord of the Rings geek, but this is the real reason:
He looked on the bright point of the sword. He thought of the places behind where there was a black brink and an empty fall into nothingness. There was no escape that way. That was to do nothing, not even to grieve. That was not what he had set out to do. ‘What am I to do then?’ He cried again, and now he seemed plainly to know the hard answer: see it through. Another lonely journey, and the worst.
`What? Me, alone, go to the Crack of Doom and all? ‘ He quailed still, but the resolve grew. `What? Me take the Ring from him? The Council gave it to him.’
But the answer came at once: `And the Council gave him companions, so that the errand should not fail. And you are the last of all the Company. The errand must not fail.’
– JRR. Tolkien , The Two Towers
Do you need a Samwise to help you carry it through, to traverse the dead and dying lands, filled with evil and treachery in order to continue the mission God has placed before you? You can overcome this. You can defeat this, but you probably won’t on your own. You can slay Goliath, but another will return tomorrow when you least expect it. Victory is a choice, and it belongs to the Lord, but He gives you helpers to see it through; allies who will speak, and pray, and are only a text or phone call away. If you’re not married, message me contact@vinceguerra.com and I’ll point you in the right direction to start.
If you’re married, or in a relationship, it starts with her. I know you don’t want to tell your wife, but trust her. Give her the opportunity to love you in ways you don’t think are possible. Let her show you intimacy like you’ve never experienced before: a physical relationship enhanced by openness and trust where she’s confident that she is the only woman in your life. And when the beast comes calling again – and he will – call out, and watch the weapons of your allies shine in all their glory as they rise to fight beside you.