On a grim day I found my brother’s playboy magazines. At first I was shocked, then that evil of lust came upon me. It marked me that day, and I continue to this day fighting the battle.
It was the graphic detail of those beautiful women that adorned those pages that I lusted for, in my fantasies. In truth, reality scared the living hell out of me, and I never pursued debauchery, tho’ I was given many opportunities to lose myself in it.
I met this beautiful young woman one fine summer day. Linda Kester was this vibrant sexy blonde that would have fulfilled all my fantasies but for the security of my innocence. I was fifteen at the time, a junior in high school, she was a freshman. I can’t recall meeting her, I remember we took a walk to the beach and back to her house. As we walked past the golf course, I dropped my right hand to swing it, she grasped it, and I had my first encounter with holding hands. It was a wonderful three hours and when we returned to her house, we had our first kiss. It took my breath away, literally. Until you learn to breathe through your nose when you french kiss, you lose your breath, and I was shocked, warmed, alarmed, and lusted, but overall feared. Linda made suggestions during that walk and at its end, suggestions I never entertained, tho’ I fantasied about her.
I wore and wear innocence. It is a form of defense. Innocence can be a life-saver while it’s harsh and wondrous. Through it is how I survived all the possibilities of lust.
I was at a party on the beach with my surfing buddies and some strangers. Steve Kunkel and I were talking, drinking beer, sitting in front of the fire. I turned and started kissing a pretty woman next to me. I didn’t know her, I didn’t know her name, and I got the idea that I needed to say something to Steve. I turned towards him, he was eye-balling the babe I had been kissing, and when I paused, he jumped in and started kissing her. I felt strange, distracted, oddly suddenly disinterested, and I left that party for the long walk home.
The next day at Steve’s house, he asked my why I had left. I didn’t have an answer. It had been and will remain a fantasy of three in bed, yet for the many times it should have occurred, it never did. I know that the reason it didn’t occur was to save me from my own form of evil; I would have been lost, never to return.
That last paragraph might be easily overlooked. It hasn’t been one or two times for that elusive threesome, it’s been an easy dozen.
There is another deeper phobia, I have not identified it even in my mid-fifties. I suspect that it was taught me when I was below the age of five. It remains hidden and buried so deep inside that I rarely glimpse the lie of it. It shows in my choices of woman. I do not date those that offer the true possibility of love. I date only those that can satisfy lust. That’s a fact.
The deeper phobia is I am not allowed to consider a relationship with any woman known by my family, specifically either parent, but mostly my mother. Hence, deduction means it was mom that planted this token inside me, for good or ill; I think for good in the end, because otherwise I would have left a long time ago.
Recognize that all of us, all, suffer from lust. It is lust for life, sex, greed, or power, or a combination or all. Lust defines selfishness, a complete lack of compassion or love. Every person suffers this calamity called lust.
I understand it, I know its source, and it is debilitating in its power. The same helplessness is felt by those that lust by greed or power. Were you to feed this lust, it will consume you, and make you one of the evil amongst mankind.
Without Christ, I am powerless against lust.