I’m tired of seeing my brothers swallowed up by the sin and shame of pornography. I’m tired of feeling the pull and the push of the lusts we can’t seem to escape. I’m fed up, to be frank. Don’t misread me, I am not fed up with you. I am fed up with sin. It seems like an unrelenting onslaught, and lust shows no partiality. But, the gospel shows no partiality either. Pornographers are offered grace, freely, alongside the rest of the repentant. If that is your story — whether pornography is your old enemy, your sometimes nemesis, or your current demon — it is ok to express your righteous anger. But channel it into truth: make sure that you understand that pornography is not a rival without weakness. It thrives in darkness and silence, but dies in the light. And one day, when our Christ comes again, it will no longer rear its ugly head.

Until then, fight well sinners. Cling to the savior, and to the brotherhood of the saints. Your hope is living: meaning there is hope for victory in your battle today, not just an expectation of the peace to come. And don’t be afraid to be fed-up; let it lead you towards confession and confidence in Christ.

A POEM FOR THE FED UP

Pornography.
Another word for “a silent cage”.
A prison secret enough to hold the shamed;
Yet not too tightly, lest they tell.
Dirty, Dark, Darling —
Its chains are roots that grow as deep,
And quick, quicker, deeper than you think;
Yet silently: she arrests anonymously.
Damn that quiet killer! Why now? Why ever?

Homewrecker! You smash covenants before they begin,
And the broken chalk it up to “differences”.

No more.
This means war, old friend, when you attack my men.
I’m tired of the stabs where no one screams,
I’m fed up with sin-stained little screens.
You want your worship? Try hell —
Screwtape’s been exposed and your time is spent.
Blood-bought bright-bannered brotherhood will be your beheading.
Mark my words, You will not survive the Sun rise
By hiding in your corner of the web.

 

 

 

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