Still, I am wrestling with lying, pissed, bitter and lust and losing.

All of these things have taken root within me. They have become my stronghold and fortress. A castle, yes but built on sand.

I had convinced myself that I was allowed to be all of these things because my wife left me. My wife cheated on me. My wife didn’t want to be married anymore.

I did everything I could to keep our marriage together in the end. I did everything that I thought mattered. A house, great job, a great father. I did it all and she didn’t do a damn thing.

This is all of her fault. All of it.

I am blameless.

For who is going to blame me for how my life would turn out?

My father molested me. My stepmom didn’t even feed us.

For who can blame me for how my life would turn out?

Even if I failed, it was because life was stacked against me.

All of this and I gotta say life was pretty good.

No it wasn’t.

I look at it all. I look at my life. Something is not right.

I am looking at all the things wrong and I am blaming others.

I am looking at all things and I now realized one actual fact that transcends everything:

This is the best that I can do.

Divorce.

Lust.

Exploiting women for my financial gain.

Bitterness.

Resentment.

Anger.

Frustration.

Confusion.

This is the absolute best that I can do in this life. It doesn’t get better than this.

I spoke to a friend of friend of mine for pastoral counseling at Gateway about my situation with my divorce. In an off-topic discussion, he tells me a story:

One day, he and his wife got into a huge argument. It was so bad that they went to bed angry. She went to bed first. Later on, he went to lay beside her. He prays to God, “God, you have to show me how to love her and how you see her because at this very moment, I cannot even stand being next to her.

He falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he wakes up and sits straight up in bed.

In the room, there is a beautiful glow coming from some light source. That light source happens to be his wife sleeping right next to him.

Her skin and hair was so beautiful. He thought to himself, “Maybe I could touch her skin?”. He reaches out, touches her and this wave of warmness flows through his body. He thinks further, “Maybe I could just kiss her…” as he leans in and kisses her on her shoulder. With that kiss, what could only be described as beautiful and wonderful love overwhelmed his body.

God spoke to him and said, “This is how I see your wife. This is how I see you. This is how much I love you. This is how much your love means to me.”

The next Monday, I had the day off. Not much of a day off since it was rainy cats and dogs.

I watch some porn on my computer.

Yes, some reason I am compelled to purchase some praise and worship CDs. Other than Tim Hughes’ Here I Am To Worship, I had nothing.

Tim Hughes’ When Silence Falls, Gateway Worship’s Living For You and Hillsong United’s All Of The Above.

On the way back, I started to think about what my pastor’s story about his wife.

I wondered, “What if I was able to see everybody like my pastor saw his wife? To see everybody like God sees us.”

I blinked, what seemed like an eternity. When I opened my eyes again, I saw what my pastor saw. All I saw was beauty and love and it simply overwhelmed me.

Then I thought, “How does God see that one porn actress… that… I… just… saw… oh… shi…”

Year 2007 rolls around.

I am taking a lot of church invites. Went to Potter’s House, Fellowship Church, Prestonwood Church, Irving Bible Church. Went to my old home church. Went to smaller churches.

They were all well and good. But not compelled to stay at any of them. I keep telling myself I need more meat. I keep saying I need something substantial. I got to be feed. The church should be here for me.

I move to from Grapevine (suburb of Fort Worth) to Dallas. After moving to Dallas, I get invited by who would be one of my best friends through all of this, Court, to a church in Southlake, Texas called Gateway Church. Sure I will entertain this. Oh hum, a megachurch in the rich part of town. No, I am not going to be connected. No, I am not going to like it.

But Court is a cool guy. Why not.

My son and I attended one weekend service in the beginning of April.

Wow, not bad. Wow, this pastor is a great shepherd. Wow, this pastor assumes we are reading our Bible. No, I don’t know what he is talking about. Where is that at in the Bible? Dang it!

At least I know where Habakkuk is at in the Bible. No, don’t ask me about it.

Hmm, not bad. Too bad I won’t be going here.

Court invites me out next weekend. That ain’t a arm twister. Why not? This is a great church.

Next weekend, we went to Gateway again. I tried be critical and I tried to pick it apart both sermons. I couldn’t.

Got invited again but this time I insisted that I couldn’t go.

The following Saturday after, my son and I was rolling through the greater Dallas / Fort Worth metroplex when this question pops up from my son:

Son: Daddy, can we go to my church?
Dad: Uh yea, son… hmm… errr… what church are we talking about?
Son: The one with the cross on the top
((Dad thinks to himself, “How does he know about the Cross?”))
Dad: There are a lot of churches with crosses on top
((Dad knows which one son is refering to))
Son: I AM TALKING ABOUT THE ONE WE WENT TO LAST WEEK WITH YOUR FRIEND COURT

Apparently, my son sent out the memo that we have already found a church to call home. I just haven’t checked my email just yet.

But Gateway did become my home.

I certainly didn’t expect to fall in love but I did.

Now on December 15, 2005, I am left with nothing.

For one day, I went to work. I came home. I felt sorry for myself. I went to bed by 6PM. I was sleeping on an air mattress on the floor.

I got up the next morning at 5PM. I made a list of goals I need to accomplish:

1. Develop a personal relationship with God, whatever that means
2. Try to work on a relationship with my ex-wife so that we are not always stepping on eggshells around our son
3. Be the best father I could possibly be to my son, however that is done
4. Be thoroughly invested in the lives of my friends, care for them and love them as much as I possibly could

My friends, new and old, rallied around me. They will never know how much I loved them and wish nothing but the best for them. Without them, I am not sure where I would be at today.

My new job was great.

I was meeting all sorts of people.

Life was pretty good.

On the night of January 19, 2006, after I just laid my son down, my wife proceeds to tell me that that she left me on the premise that after two years and if I haven’t found a new girlfriend, that we might be able to reconcile our marriage.

I might have been a terrible husband but not even I would cheat on my wife during our seperation. Actually, what should she expect of me?

If. I. haven’t. found. a. new. girlfriend.

For the first time in our time ever, I exploded.

If you ever seen a 6 foot 5 inch, 300lb guy lose his head, I got to imagine it is a sight to behold.

I drove home through wave of tears. I was suppose to workout with my brother. I was squatting 600lbs and leg pressing 1300lbs that night.

The next morning, she called me while I was on my way to work. You got to be kidding me. My end of the conversation went like this:

“Hello… yea… okay…”

I hung up my cell phone by throwing it down on the floor as I could and it bounces up over the front seat and gets lost somewhere in my car all day.

I went into work. Fuming. I told a friend that I was pretty pissed and I didn’t want to go stomping around work. I asked her if she saw me upset or mad that if she could give me a heads up.

Later that day, she calls out, “Hey Joe!” and gives me the goofiest face ever.

Man, I love my friends.

The year of 2006 got better and better.

I accomplished goals 2, 3 and 4.

I still didn’t know how to accomplish number 1.

Still life was good.

Yea, I was still addicted to porn.

Yea, I was still bitter towards my father.

Yea, I was still angry at my ex-wife.

But all things considering, life was good.

I am in the Air Force.

My dad and stepmom were so sure of their innocence that they take their case to court. The courts then sentences them to life in prison.

Wow, that should have healed me and made me normal.

Why do I still have all this bitterness, coldness, darkness and hopelessness inside?

Why would it be effortless for me to kill my dad with my bare hands at any given notice? Why would I feel that way for the next 14 years?

My boss finds out about the sentencing of my dad and stepmom and schedules the base psychologist and the base chaplain for ongoing sessions for me.

I ended up dating the chaplain’s daughter. That was pretty cool.

Unrelated to dating the chaplain’s daughter (the colonel was cool with it), my Air Force career ended short.

Again, score one for trying to remain normal.

I come back home.

I figure out computers are easy.

I start fixing them. On a server level. They called me a “Systems Administrator” or “Pro Geek”. Either way it was money in my pocket.

I met one girl. Preacher’s kid so she has to be saved, right? Of course.

While I was dating her, I started getting into this book “Left Behind”. (I am not even bother to linking it because everybody and their mothers has read the series.)

While I was reading this book, I was getting to the parts where these fictional characters were accepting salvation. I started to cry. (Insert comparisons to Jeremiah here).

My girlfriend’s response to that, “I swear if YOU EVER become a pastor, minister or whatever the f*ck, I will divorce your ass in a heartbeat.”

Someone whispered into my heart: “You should be a pastor. You should minister to others. You could lead the lost home.”

My response, “Hell no. I can’t do that. That is for men of God. I am just saved. I am not qualified.”

I pushed that Whisper out.

I ended up marrying this girl.

Since I know how to run servers and in combination with my porn addiction, I started into the porn industry.

First it started with all things tech. But people I worked with started noticing my people skills. I should do others things in the industry like talk to people.

I was neck deep into this manure.

No, I didn’t have close relationships with other Christians.

It was okay with my wife because I was bringing in more money into the family. Can’t you tell how wonderful of a husband I was when I am not even trying to lead our marriage?

Score another one for trying to be normal.

God gave us a son. Why in the hell He did that I am still trying to wrap my head around that till this day.

I am still neck deep.

But I can’t keep a decent job. My failures as a husband and now as a father are piling up. I didn’t have to lie about the porn but I lied about the our finances about everything just to save face.

I still carried the shame and guilt of the past but now I am stacking it deeper and deeper. My knees are buckling under the weight of the chains. I can’t even stand up straight.

I get caught in lies. I still lie. Name something. I have lied about it.

All of that and I love porn. All of that and I rather not do nothing all night but play video games.

I still waiting for the husband and father of the year awards.

But again, this is normal. I read about other guys struggling with the same stuff I do. At least I am not wallowing in self-pity and despair.

I was so concentrated on trying to be normal and making sure that my son would never experienced what I experienced that I sacrificed it all. Excellence, God, purity, everything.

When it comes to breaking cycles, it goes beyond not repeating the abuse. In my life, I didn’t know how to live the life that God gave me. I didn’t know how to be the husband according to God. I didn’t know how to be the father like my Father. I didn’t know how to be a friend like my Friend.

That striving for normalcy and effected our marriage to the point that she was trying to find ways where I would leave her.

It was about this time where I had a day by myself in our home and I just cried to God all day on my knees to help me to save my marriage.

She cheated on me. With a woman.

It was about this time, I was in company again of godly men. I asked them, “What should I do?” Their response, “Don’t leave your wife. Whatever happens, don’t leave. You stay.”

It was about this time my wife was in the company of just women. She told them, “I have cheated on him and he still won’t leave. I should leave him, right?”. Their response, “You don’t have a choice, you got to leave.”

She tells me ahead of time she is leaving me on this certain day: December 15, 2005.

I now live with my grandmother at the age of 12.

Wow, I am going to church on a regular basis.

Wow, I get an allowance of $2.50 per week and all you want is some chores done? Done.

During those previous 7 years of hell, I was the only one being sexually abused while only 4 of the 6 kids were beaten for one reason or other.

I don’t know why 2 kids were saved from the abuse. I never could figure that out.

I was just glad I wasn’t being abused anymore now that I live with my grandma.

Maybe my dad and stepmom stopped the beatings. Maybe my dad stopped the sexual abuse when I left the house.

Boy, that would be almost great if you could get something good out of that story.

By the way, it never stopped.

By the way, I was too much of a coward to say a word. Again, I am glad it stopped for me. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I was hopeful.

While I didn’t have a male role model living in my house, God kept sending Godly men my way. Through Bethesda Community Church. Through A/G’s Royal Rangers program. Somehow, God found a way to pour the foundation into my life.

But I kept jacking up the foundation.

Shockingly enough, I was introduced to porn at a really young age. That crap came back to haunt me during my teenage years.

Seriously.

I got to one point in my life where I was trying to get rid of the lust in my heart on my own. I failed. Oh I failed so hard. I was outside washing my car and I just sat and cried right there on my driveway because I knew that lust and porn were going to be a part of my life from here on out. It was the way things were going to be.

Without question, I couldn’t talk to anybody else about this shame and guilt.

Just like the shame and guilt of growing up poorer than poor because my parents were too lazy and drunk to take care of us. That is something I get to carry for the rest of my life.

Just like the shame, guilt, frustration and anger of being sexually and physically abused. That is something I get to carry for the rest of my life.

I figured if I can strive to be normal, then I would get better. I would be better off.

I worked my ass off to be normal. I worked my ass off just to appear as though none of that stuff happened to me as a kid.

When I was 17, I found out that my dad and stepmom continue the abuse onto my 4 remaining half brother and sisters. I found out because I came home from school and my grandmother told me that my dad and stepmom were sitting in jail awaiting trial for child abuse and neglect.

She tells me, “It is all lies. The police got those kids to lie about their parents.”

For the first time in my life, I grew a pair. “No, grandma, they are not lies. I have to share something with you.”

For my last year of high school, I get to have counselors, detectives, cops, therapists, psychologists and sex therapists telling me I am normal and it is a miracle that nothing is wrong with me.

Oh there were plenty things wrong with me. Nothing they could help with or even begin to cure.

My grandmother disbelieved everything that was true. My brother boldly defended the innocence of my dad.

I graduated high school. I was about to enter into the United States Air Force.