A Junkie’s Confession

Dearest Rachel –

It’s hard to realize that I’ve written twelve hundred letters to you since your departure. Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like I’ve been counting as I’ve been sending them off; the website does that for me. But I’m sure that over all those letters, I’ve repeated myself quite a bit, and you’ll probably see a few things today that you’ve heard from me before. I just wanted to have that said before proceeding, in order to beg your indulgence if something seems overly familiar, as if it’s been stated previously. If it has, it’s only a matter of emphasis.

This particular letter was a hard one to write, because there’s a lot to say here that I’m not sure I can, or should. Again, I’ve just had that rant, so I’ll try not to belabor the point. But when the weekend sermon series is on the seven deadly sins, eventually one’s going to come up that’s going to strike home.

And as my wife, you know which one this is; it’s in my name, after all.

I’d actually put something together about this yesterday, in fact. But after going through it, I decided that, while it might have been okay to share between the two of us, there was a lot there that wasn’t meant for others to see. If I could post these things without the site announcing their publication, I might consider it; but that’s not how the internet works. It assumes you want as much publicity as you can get, in order to monetize your creations (which I’m not doing either – as if I could), and as such, it lets everyone know that even might be interested about everything you have to say. So, yeah… I set that one aside, and decided to sleep on the topic (and not in a “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” sort of way, either – although that brings back memories from university dance party days, doesn’t it?), to see whether something else would come up for me to talk with you about.

But it looks like I’m stuck with this one – or more to the point, I can’t seem to get away from it. So here we go again.

***

In fairness, when discussing the topic, the teaching team didn’t focus on the negative aspect of lust (what, you hadn’t figured out which deadly sin I was talking about?). You know the bit; where Jesus talks about how even looking at a woman with a certain intent is every bit as much the sin as actually committing adultery. It’s the sort of statement that leads young men to wonder if they’re sinful for wanting to find a wife. In fairness, they are sinful – as we all are – but not for that.

(As an aside, it’s also the sort of statement that precludes me from chatting anyone up in church that I might find appealing. Much as it’s the best place to find someone who shares my beliefs – and I’ve long since discovered that’s more important than, say, sharing certain other interests, as much as those would be a bonus – I know that I’m thinking ahead when I try to do so, and assume that she can tell, too… and as a result, I don’t bother)

Rather – and this is what they focused on – the whole arrangement of man and wife was all part of the plan. God put together all of creation, and at every step along the way nodded and said “[this] is good” as He moved on to His next brushstroke on the cosmic canvas. Only once did He stop, peer at the big picture, and say “[this] is not good,” and that was when He observed Adam going about his business in the Garden… alone. And of course, you know where the story went from there; He puts Adam to sleep (not like that), takes a rib from him (or possibly some other bone; I’ve read that some folks think the word ‘rib’ may have been a euphemism. Men and women have the same number of ribs, after all, but unlike many mammals, men lack a bone in a… certain place), and makes his dreams, such as he may have been having, come true by modeling a female counterpart… Eve.

Whatever happened next surely didn’t come as a surprise to God, or elicit disgust from Him. He didn’t yell at Adam to get off of Eve, or ask His humans what they thought they were doing. This was all part of the design.

After all, He could have made us so that all we needed, in terms of relationships, was Him; and apparently (although this was probably more common in the experience of our pastors due to their educational experience) this was a sentiment expressed by many in seminary: “Oh, I’m spoken for; I’m in a relationship with God.” Sounds really pious and spiritual, doesn’t it? But denying this appetite is no wiser than denying one’s appetite for food – and in many cases, just as unhealthy. Jesus may not have always needed food at certain points because He was busy with His Father’s work (such as in John 4), but it’s mentioned during His temptation that He did get hungry (and after forty days, who wouldn’t?). To be fair, that reminds me of the great furor over a book (and later, movie) about – and titled – The Last Temptation of Christ, where He imagines a domestic life as a husband and father, with all that entailed. There’s a certain point where (seeing as it is written that “He was tempted just as we were, yet without sin”) it would be reassuring to think that He faced that desire, just like I do.

Because it’s one thing to go without something in your life; if you never try it, you never know what you’re missing. But if you do get to enjoy something, and then have it taken away from you, that seems so much worse. The teaching team talked about how one’s brain chemistry is such that the dopamine and serotonin levels from sex are similar to that of a hit of cocaine or heroin. You’re supposed to become addicted to each other (and, in the process, overlook certain of each other’s faults in the process, thus increasing marital harmony).

And I was, honey, I was. Only, for whatever reason, my Dealer cut me off, and I don’t know why.

***

There are folks (including mine) who tell me that He’s got someone out there for me. They imply that He wouldn’t just leave me, like a hopeless junkie, wondering where I can get my next fix from.

They mean well, honey, but after so long in withdrawal, I’m starting to wonder. Especially given how much more difficult it is, after having had access to a steady supply; where do I go from here? I could probably write a whole separate letter about this, now that I’ve gotten this far, in fact.

But for now, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.