Tag: pain

  • Suns Experience

    Suns Experience

    Last week I got to play on the Phoenix Suns court. It was an awesome experience, one of the coolest things I’ve ever gotten to do. Huge shoutout to Robert, his wife Brooke, and Blake for making it happen. We got exclusive access to the court and were able to play pickup for three hours. Well, some of us were able to play for hours… more on that later.

    Some basketball thoughts from playing on a real NBA court.

    First, those lights are bright. When I’d shoot from the corners, if I watched the ball arc up before it got to the rim, I’d be blinded by the lights. If I looked up unconsciously while playing, I got blinded. Never thought about what it would be like to actually play under the “bright lights.”Speaking of the corners, it is a tight fit. Shooting an NBA three from the corner gives barely enough room for your feet. If you take a step back at all to try to explode toward the hoop, you’re stepping out of bounds. I have size 10 shoes. I don’t know how the size 20s even do it.

    Speaking of the lights, part of the package with getting to play on the court was we got to watch the Suns play that night against the Orlando Magic. We got to watch from the suite level with food and drink included. I’ve been to many Suns games, but this was a unique game to watch due to having been on the court just hours earlier. These things I mentioned like the lights and the tight space from the corner were things I considered more than I ever had before. The other thing that stood out to me that I’d never thought about before was how hectic an environment this was for NBA players to play basketball in.

    Basketball is a refuge for me. It’s therapeutic. Playing on an NBA court with thousands of people watching cannot be therapeutic.

    An NBA game is a chaotic and hectic experience. Of course, there are the thousands of people watching, yelling, and trash-talking. That’s crazy in and of itself. But what struck me the most after having played on the court was how loud the music was. While we played, we had a pretty chill March Madness game playing on the big screen with the volume on what I’d guess was around medium. It was still distracting. Watching that game later against the Magic I was focused on the NOISE, the MUSIC, and the BASS.

    It is pandemonium at an NBA game. For some reason I’d always thought the NBA players were a bit sheltered from the noise. After playing on the court, I realized it’s the opposite. They are at the bottom, center of a dome. All the noise and chaos are amplified on the court. It gave me my first true appreciation of home-court advantage. That chaos is one thing, but when it’s a chaos you’re not used to, (on the road visiting another stadium) with fans heckling you the whole time, it’s complete sensory overload.

    So, back to my time on the court, unfortunately I got hurt the beginning of the second game. I was running and just stepped wrong and twisted my ankle bad. It actually happened at almost the exact spot where Kevin Durant twisted his ankle while doing a routine warm-up layup a couple weeks earlier.

    Probably exactly what my ankle looked like, same spot.

    After I rolled my ankle, I at least got to see what it was like to be treated like an NBA player for a moment. Multiple trainers checked on me and brought me ice. It was a bit embarrassing. I got to spend the rest of the pickup session jealously watching with ice on my ankle from the sideline.

    Here’s the part where I insert what I learned spiritually from this experience.

    I’ve twisted that ankle at least 3 dozen times, not exaggerating. It’s never fun. It’s always painful.

    That night, I was laying in bed with my ankle propped up on pillows. I’d already discarded the ice that was on it. It was the middle of the night and my foot was THROBBING. It hurt.

    It hurt badly enough that I started praying for relief. I don’t want to be dramatic. I know that on the pain scale, what I was experiencing was pretty mild. But still, it hurt. That’s when I started thinking about every groin pull, every sprained ankle, every concussion, every headache, every upset stomach, every scalping, every stitch, every ingrown toenail, every scratch, every bruise, every heartache, every heartbreak, every disappointment, every fear, every doubt.

    How could He have felt it all?

    Here I was, writhing in pain, whining, praying for relief, over a sprained ankle. And He felt every sprained ankle of every person that ever did or would exist, all in a moment. He felt it all. How?

    I ponder often on the Atonement. I’ve tried to wrap my head around it. It’s not something we can wrap our heads around. That’s the point. He did something unimaginable. He did something incomprehensible. And he did it for us.

    I believe (I know) that Christ felt it all that night at Gethsemane. I don’t know how; I can’t understand it. But I know He did. It’s why I write about Him, it’s why I think about Him, it’s why I serve Him. Because for a long time, I tried to forget what He did for me because of guilt, or incomprehension, or selfishness. But now I think the most important thing I do outside of anything with my family is write about Him.

    I think the most important thing I do for my daughters is teach them about Him. Few things bring me as much joy as when Ivy sees a picture, I ask, “who’s that?” And she replies, “Jesus.” I hope someone reads this that needs to remember Him and what He did for us. When you think about what He did for us, ultimately it must make us more loving because we’re considering a love that is unfathomable. That makes us better.

  • The Need for God in the Newborn Days

    The Need for God in the Newborn Days

    Having a newborn is pretty difficult. Understatement? The challenges are diverse and wide-ranging. I don’t believe this is a coincidence.

    As Beth and I were driving to the hospital for her to bring a baby into the world – we prayed.

    As we waited to get checked into the hospital – I prayed.

    As we sat in our first room and Beth’s pain started to increase – I prayed harder.

    As we were moved into the delivery room and the miracle began – I prayed constantly.

    As I held my new daughter – I prayed, holding back tears of gratitude.

    As we took the new member of our family to our hospital room – I prayed.

    As we struggled to stay awake and care for her new needs – I prayed.

    As we drove home – I prayed.

    As we started the first weeks of no sleep, stress, anxiety, and responsibility. As we tried to feed Sage, as we changed her multiple times throughout the night, as we walked around bleary eyed, as she slept on my chest, as she cried in my arms – I pray constantly for help and strength.

    As Beth becomes a zombie from lack of sleep – I pray.

    As I fall asleep holding Sage – I pray.

    As Ivy adjusts to a new sister, the responsibility, and the change to her little world – I pray for her.

    As Beth works to breastfeed every 3 hours and continues not to sleep – I pray for her.

    As I go back to work, Beth having extreme trepidation – I pray, and I assure her it will be ok.

    We’re being looked after.

    As Beth texts me, “You must have said a good prayer for us for today. I can’t believe I feel as good as I do right now.” – I pray with so much gratitude.

    I know we’re being looked after.

    Having and bringing home a newborn is stressful and a momentous responsibility. I don’t think that is a coincidence. I think it’s meant to remind us how much we need Him. I’m grateful for how difficult it is to bring a new baby home because it brings me closer to my Heavenly Father. I have to rely on Him, because I know my strength is nothing, and I know I can’t do it without Him.

    I’m grateful for these challenges because they remind me how much I need Him.

    I’m grateful to know He is there.

    I’m grateful to know we are watched over.

  • The Journal Entry of Beth’s Conversion Story

    The Journal Entry of Beth’s Conversion Story

    This is my wife, Beth’s testimony exactly as written.  Names have been changed.

    In a future post I will give some of my thoughts about this, but for now, the power of her testimony should stand on its own, unencumbered by any comments I could hope to make.

    Here it is.

    The Journal Entry of Beth’s Conversion Story

    April 20, 2016

                   I just read my patriarchal blessing for the second time since I got it. It confirmed promptings I’ve been having lately that I should do some journaling for myself and posterity so, even though it is past midnight I felt it better to do this than mindlessly fall asleep to some Netflix show. The past few years have had so much I don’t know how to fit everything I should write to remember. So, because of my failings as a journal writer, it will have to be a highlight reel of life. I just feel some changes that have occurred are too important to neglect to include.

                   I am in my third year at ASU. I love it, I love learning, but my diagnosis with clinical depression in October 2015 has really been a roadblock in my ability to work hard. Luckily, after dropping out for a semester, I’m slowly starting to feel like myself again. I’m not taking medication anymore but I’ve been hiking often and the feeling I get from pushing myself and being physically fit really serves as a great anti-depressant. So I’m back in school with just 9 credit hours, but hard classes. (1920’s senior thesis, history of college sports, and existentialism) I will probably graduate in about a year and do some sort of graduate school program. I previously had been dead set on going to law school. However, I’ve had to rethink my career path after being diagnosed with the depression episode. I don’t really trust myself to be able to go through law school. I always had 100% confidence in my academic capabilities. Now, I’ve taken a real hit to that confidence. My patriarchal blessing does mention that through my righteousness I will have many different career options. That has been comforting.

                   Life has been full of changes the past year. I think the biggest one that I will write on is about the ending of my very serious relationship with John for 2 ½ years and my decision to come back to church. I dated him from senior year of high school all the way up to just short of my 21st birthday. I really thought I loved him. He and I had plans to even get married one day. We were HS sweethearts and he was what I considered my first real love. I feel a real sense of anger at the situation but I also can’t help but think I will always love who he used to be and what we used to have.

    Initially, since about sophomore year of high school, I was set on not being LDS. I didn’t have a testimony of the Book of Mormon, I didn’t believe what the prophets spoke about. I wanted to live contrary to many of the commandments. I never cared to enter the temple. I was prepared to live that life with John too. We were definitely not living by LDS standards and that is exactly what I wanted. I was perfectly happy breaking the word of wisdom and living contrary to the law of chastity, among other things. Our relationship was never perfect. We fought often. He drank. I remember one day he drank so much he wound up in the hospital knocked out. For approximately 5 hours I sat there watching him, angry, upset, feeling betrayed, but wanting to show compassion. He cheated on me many times. I would often find messages on his phone texting other girls. He was perfectly fine with going out and getting drunk with other girls when I wasn’t around. Dramatic scenarios like these were often. I didn’t like who I was when I was with him. But I lost touch with who I used to be or who I could be. And when there were good times, I felt some amazing love. I just started to realize I had a better potential and I deserved better.

                   The changes came slowly at first. I remember when Clark was on his mission, I had one night where I felt so very, extremely alone. Not just physically but much deeper than that. It was dark. I was overcome by hopelessness. It was a feeling I almost lack the ability to explain. I now think it was a result of separating myself so far from the spirit that the light from Christ dimmed. I was prideful. I hadn’t prayed in years. But I did. I prayed in that moment. Desperately. I pleaded with God, please take this feeling from me even though I know I don’t deserve it. Immediately, my fear dissipated and calm overwhelmed me. That was the first time I understood how real prayer was. I wish I could convey that feeling to others. It was painful, scary, optimistic, and inspiring all at once. That was a start.

                   Any institute classes at ASU helped too. I didn’t mind studying the gospel from an intellectual standpoint so I liked going. I read scriptures. I discussed the gospel. I often was so eager to share what I learned with John. Sometimes he’d listen, other times he’d pretend to. It was awkward. I wanted to share what I found profound and he was resistant. But again, there were slow changes creeping in. I was realizing what the words of the gospel could mean. And he was realizing that he wanted nothing to do with it.

                   The real changes began around the start of 2015. I had quit or was about to quit partaking in most of the big sins I had been living in for years. I had already quit drinking and I was ready to cut-off the intimate aspect of my relationship with John. I had an institute class on the Teachings of the Latter-Day Prophets at this time. For some scheduling reason, I missed that class often. To make up absences we had to write papers on general conference talks. (Which I had never listened to previously in my life) So I did it. And that was a blessing in disguise. Again, I took it as an intellectual opportunity, like listening to Gospel TED Talks. At first I learned a lot. But then I began to feel a lot. I studied the atonement. And the friendship and companionship of Christ. I studied talks on being genuine and being compassionate. I began to slowly feel a change of heart, a softening of a heart that had been proud for many years. And even though I thought I was happy before, I started to feel joy. Real joy. And I started to feel love for others. Real Christ-like love. And I started to understand my divine purpose. The real potential I could live up to. Then came the dreams that gave the final push.

                   I’ve had vivid and detailed dreams for a few years now. Often they are silly. But often they are profound. Sometimes they even come true. I know that for many of us, the spirit speaks to us in dreams. For context, it is important to know I never wanted to get married in the temple before in my life and I never had been the kind of girl to dream excessively of my wedding day either. However, I had about four dreams where I was walking out of the temple in a white dress looking happier than I’d ever been lovingly holding the hand of a man. These dreams always ended right before I saw the face of the man I married. One night, I had the fifth identical dream but this time the man was John.

                   In addition, I had another dream that my friend Mike was home from his mission, in white, crying and saying how proud he was while hugging another person dressed in white. As he turned around it became clear it was John on his baptism day! So with these dreams I thought I knew what it meant! John and I would change our ways, repent, convert, and live happily ever after.

                   But of course that isn’t what happened. As a side note, I now have a different interpretation of those dreams. I think God was showing me what could be. What I should want to be. And as I saw that possibility play out in my dreams but realized that it could not be a reality in real life I had to consider what I truly wanted and expected for myself. After I broke up with John I had the wedding dream only once more. It was once again identical to the dreams before. But I saw the man I was going to marry. It isn’t like I could list a particular physical look I had for him but it’s as if I knew who he was anyway. As if the trust and love I had for him made me know him. And it made me desire so much to strive to one day be endowed so that I will get to marry that man and walk out of the temple with him one day. That was the first time I wanted to go through the temple. I now hope to be endowed and sealed one day.

    So after these dreams I tried to appeal to John, first by asking him to quit drinking. I wanted so badly to have the life I thought I knew we could have. But we were sent here with free will and someone needs to want to change in order to truly change. He did not want to change. The last few months were devastating. I thought I loved John, I was otherwise so happy, but my relationship was suffering. I was starting to open up to the gospel, to build a relationship with Christ. I was doing well in school, I was making many friends. But we had diverged. Thankfully I was blessed to be given so many obvious signs of what was right that I knew without any doubt there was no turning back from the Gospel at this point. I either go forward with this change next to John or I go forward without him. But I had to go forward And so June came, he sat on my front doorstep. We talked kindly but distanced. And that was it. I was sad. The man I thought I loved was gone. But inexplicably I felt so at peace. It felt okay. I felt optimistic. I sensed a hard path ahead but I knew it was going to be worth it.

                   So here I am with that journey under my belt. It has left me at times feeling damaged. I’m generally a confident person but I took a real hit to my self worth after this. The depression has made me feel like I’m not as smart or capable as I thought I was. My failed relationship made me feel I’m not worth someone’s loyalty or commitment That no matter how pretty or smart or funny or confident they think I am that a life with me wasn’t worth giving up something as trivial as alcohol. That my friends weren’t wiling to stick around when I chose to give up sin and follow Christ. But the gospel keeps me going.

                   I can’t wait to love someone that chooses to love me fully back. I hope one day I can trust myself to do that. I hope one day I can give 100% of my love and feel it back. I want to trust that I’m worth someone’s loyalty. I want to trust I’m worth a righteous man. I pray to become better through this trial so I can be worth it one day.

    And in the end of this trial I realize I’m grateful for it. I look to those times where I was given a sign and a testimony loud and clear when I’m beginning to doubt. And I’ve doubted. I was proud enough to think blessings would rain down on me immediately after this big step. They didn’t, at least not in the form I had expected. I’ve dated in the YSA ward but there hasn’t been anyone I’m seriously in to. In fact I almost find myself incapable of emotionally attaching to anyone. I’ve dealt with crippling depression. I lost friends. People decided they would choose John over me. They decided it was better to have the partying John than the sober Beth. I lost direction in my career path. But among all these trials I now understand what is temporary and what is eternal. It was the most alone I had ever felt. But I finally knew I wasn’t really ever alone.

                   I had to go through my own repentance process with the bishop. (Farnsworth then Thurston) It was scary. But I now love and feel the atonement for real. Every time I pray, I thank Heavenly Father for Christ’s atonement. I needed the atonement then, and I need it now. My testimony in the atonement holds me over when my testimony in other aspects is less stable. My testimony of the eternal nature of being is so strong. My testimony of Christ’s personal relationship to us through prayer is tangible.

                   I love Christ. I feel him there because he knows my pain. He’s been my friend when all hope was gone. I’m not completely myself again but I find joy in reaching out to those who I sense also feel alone, damaged, or scared. My trial has given me an ability to reach out to those in pain just as Christ does. And I feel real, Christ-like love that I’ve never felt before. I look at people with a new light now because of it.  I try to understand the principle of forgiveness because I need it. I long to maintain an eternal perspective because I knew what challenges there were to face on Earth yet I boldly said I was ready to do it. And I will continue to do so.

                   I look forward to the day I can look back and understand the ‘why’ of my experiences and trials. But for now I will press on with hope and gratitude. I know my Savior lives. I hope I never doubt it! I hope I never forget. I am so grateful for the hard times. I’m grateful for humility and for this clarity. I’m so grateful for my story.

    Elisabeth Brooke Cannon

  • Pornography

    Pornography

    This topic, unfortunately, becomes more and more prevalent, and more and more of an issue for us today.  It’s come up so many times, I’ve heard it so many times, and it’s such an issue that I felt I should share some thoughts on this uncomfortable subject.

    I believe I was 12 when my parents had “the talk” with me.  It still stands out as undoubtedly one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life.  I wonder if most people remember that talk.

    It’s a joke between Beth and I that I won’t have any part of the talk when it comes time for my kids to have it.  Of course, I’ll have to be there… I think.  Back turned.  Pretending like it’s not happening.  Preferably at a couch watching TV while it happens behind me in the kitchen, just like my dad did it.

    I don’t like talking about any of that stuff.  This expands to a lot of areas.  I used to joke constantly with Beth that I wouldn’t be in the delivery room.  Of course, I was there.  I wasn’t as uncomfortable as I anticipated.  Maybe I’m getting older or something, or potentially the life-altering magnitude of the moment got to me, who knows. 

    This is why I’m shocked, myself, that I’m writing down these thoughts.  Maybe I’ll even share them.  I’m writing them because I think I have a perspective to share that could maybe help others.  I think I’m writing it because I believe it might be good to talk about these things more, as much as I hate it.  There’s some power in putting uncomfortable topics out in the open.

    Pornography is a plague that is killing young boys, adolescents, teenagers, and adults.  It is destroying boys and men alike.  Lust is an extraordinarily powerful tool for Satan to use.  I am emphasizing males.  I don’t do this to imply females have zero trouble with this topic.  They do.  I focus on males because I think it’s obvious that it’s a bigger issue for males than females.

    Beth and I have had some candid discussions about the differences between men and women.  Beth has been a firm believer in the idea that men must control their minds and it’s not a woman’s responsibility to control a man’s mind by dressing modestly, etc.  I think I’ve opened Beth’s mind a bit to how different boys/men are to girls/women.  On that note, I think Beth has learned how difficult it is to be a boy.  Especially a teenage boy, nowadays.  The hormones of a teenage boy are a force to be reckoned with. 

    Now, this is in no way a post about how guys don’t need to control their thoughts or what’s in their pants.  The exact opposite, actually.  I should start by saying this:  every man is capable of controlling themselves.  I have friends who have gone from struggling mightily with pornography to going a year without viewing anything.  It is possible.  Not only is it possible, it’s liberating, it’s empowering.  You can learn that no part of your body controls you.  Your mind and soul control you.  Once you realize this truth, unlimited power, your mind, is at your disposal. 

    There is never an excuse to let your mind wander and start to misuse women, even in our thoughts.  Christ spoke of this often (Matthew 5:28).

    However, I want to note and emphasize how difficult it is for our young men growing up today.  How difficult it is to be a teenage boy.  Again, I don’t write this to excuse the behavior.  I write this, in part, for every woman that judges a man without having any comprehension of what it’s like to be a man.  The difficulty of being a man is multiplied ten-fold for teenage boys.

    There needs to be some patience and understanding from women about men.  There are so many things we (men) have no clue about women.  The same can be said for women understanding men.  The simple fact is many women have no idea what it’s like to be a man.

    Temptation is everywhere.  Any billboard, movie, tv show, commercial, picture, image on the internet, person on the street, app on a phone, song lyric, the list goes on, can trigger immoral thoughts.  Often mundane and only slightly sexual things in nature can lead to instant feelings of temptation and immoral thinking.  We as men are programmed with this gift and curse.  Gift because it can lead to a love, respect, admiration, desire, etc. for women.  Curse for the other obvious reasons.  As Boyd K. Packer said to all young men, “Your body is the instrument of your mind and the foundation of your character.  It has within it powers which, if properly used, will contribute greatly to your exaltation.  If you use this gift worthily, it will serve you throughout all eternity.”

    The challenge for teenage boys is feeling ashamed of these things.  Once too much shame sets in, young boys will naturally resort to privately giving into temptations, and then feel dirty and wrong when they do it.  It is wrong.  But the dirty part is tricky, because it’s a part of us.  It’s something that needs work to control.  The most important thing is to always come back to Heavenly Father and always try to be better.  The worst thing that can happen is a young boy turning inward and feeling overwhelming guilt, shame, and embarrassment about these urges.  You can turn away from God, but He doesn’t want that.

    I have heard of eternal companionships ending over “pornography addiction.”  This makes me so sad.  I’m sad for the woman, who has given up on a man who has the potential to change.  For every woman judging their husband too harshly, give our boys, and yes, even our men, a chance.  It is hard being a boy.  It is so hard being a boy today.  Pornography is everywhere, it is accessible, it is easy.  This doesn’t mean you don’t need to be loved by your husband or that him watching pornography is ok.  But your relationship can be made so much stronger if you embrace this challenge, support, and uplift him through it.  Instead of judging, think how hard this might be for the man.  Think how ashamed he might feel.  Then show compassion and help him.

    Women: help men, stop judging them and deciding you’re unsafe, or they are evil, or they are wrong for this difficult challenge they must face.  “In sickness and in health.”  Does this not apply to someone going through a personal struggle?  “For time and all eternity.”

    I mentioned an example of someone that struggled, as in, pornography multiple times a day, every day.  His situation was handled in three easy steps:

    1. He talked to his wife.  He told her he had a problem and needed help.
    2. He talked to church leaders.
    3. He talked to a couple friends and got support to help him through it.

    Additional thoughts for these three points.

    ONE is not possible if his wife is going to be irrational, uncaring, or judgmental.  This friend was supported by a loving wife who understood that he was a phenomenal person who had a challenge he had to deal with.  She was proud of him for having the courage to come to her.  She was involved in the rest of the plan (steps two and three). 

    TWO took courage.  Kudos to anyone strong enough, and self-aware enough, to talk to their church leaders, openly confess, and start themselves on a path of improvement. 

    Finally, THREE did not involve overbearing, controlling, constant checking in.  A couple friends held him accountable.  They didn’t judge him.  They didn’t harass him.  They didn’t stalk him.  They trusted that the struggling friend would come to them when he needed support. 

    A year later, the struggling friend has slowly moved towards complete abstinence from pornography.  This wouldn’t have been possible without a loving, supportive group around him.

    For those struggling with this issue, I should add an important, recent note from this friend.  When talking about my own, unrelated to pornography, bad habit, this friend told me: “Don’t give an inch when it comes to abstinence.  Not saying you and *activity are the same as me and porn, but to stay clean I have to shut all forms of lewdness out, not just specifically porn and rationalize bikini pics as not porn since there is no nudity.”

    I have a female friend who once told me her husband had an intense pornography addiction.  It was debilitating and affected his everyday life.  It was so bad he didn’t keep a cell phone.  At all.  To remove the opportunity, he got rid of his cell phone.  Some might say “this is weak, just control it.”  I say, sometimes admitting we are weak is the greatest strength.  I admire this “sacrifice” for ultimate well-being. 

    Do you need someone’s computer password sometimes?  Do you need to monitor them, watch over them, keep them more accountable?  Maybe….

    Even as I type that word, “maybe,” I think I totally disagree.  What’s the point of abstaining if it’s through forced, agency removed, babysitting behavior?  I’ve provided all the “men have it hard” points so now it’s time for the tough love.  If you need to monitor every move your husband makes because he has a “pornography addiction” then he’s never going to grow and learn to control himself.  If you need all his passwords, accounts, and computers checked each day, then he isn’t learning self-control, he’s learning to be controlled. 

    God has given us our agency and sometimes you need to buck up and be accountable for your behavior.  No babysitters.  No hand holding.  Maybe that stuff can help in the beginning but ultimately, if a man can’t be accountable to himself, then you can’t watch him every day. 

    “A young man (every man) should learn to rule his body.  Like his temper, he should keep it always under complete control.”

    Boyd K. Packer

    Being surrounded by a supportive group is vastly different from being surrounded by prison guards. 

    Using the example of the friend who has gone a year without pornography, the first step was him realizing “I have a problem.”  That is always the most difficult thing.  The world will have you think pornography is a part of life and it’s just “boys being boys.”  The natural man is an enemy to God (Mosiah 3:19), the world would have you stay being the natural man.  I was always caught telling myself I’m doing ok because I only give in once a week or once a month.  It took a while for me to realize I could be so much better than that.  Many reading this will scoff at this religious idea of self-control and abstinence.  They’ll say it’s natural, and we were built this way, built to give in to our urges.  I’ve had conversations with many close friends who ridicule the very notion of self-control when it comes to pornography.  As I’ve mentioned, yes, these urges are natural, but to become like God we must learn to control our very natures.

    When I was away from the church giving into my temptations was a more often occurrence, though I always felt the guilt.  That is a problem facing much of the world – the removal of guilt.  I never felt good after giving in.  It was the complete opposite feeling to reading a good book, reading scripture, conversing in prayer, that I now experience today.

    As I returned to church this habit lingered, pestered me, persisted.  There have been many examples in my return to church of me slowly weeding out old activities.  One example is playing basketball on Sunday.  I rationalized it was good to play basketball Sunday mornings because it kept me from doing what I used to do on Saturday nights.  Similar thinking came with pornography.

    As I immersed myself in scripture, prayer, church activity, these temptations lessened, though they never did, and I don’t know if they ever will, completely leave.  I’ve always found that the busier I am with good, wholesome activities, the easier it is to avoid. 

    Early on I would set goals.  I would make a “promise” to myself to go a week, then two weeks, then a month.  I wasn’t always perfect.  But early on it made me realize the real issue this was.  If I slipped up, not only was I making a mistake, but I also broke a promise to myself and to Heavenly Father.  That taught me early on to continue to fight to improve. 

    One of my favorite books, Visions of Glory, talks about pornography in an interesting way.  It pointed out that the “act” was an inherently selfish act.  It took out intimacy and effort.  It gave instant, personal gratification.  Visions of Glory portrayed a graphic image of the demons that thrive on us in our weakest moments.  It painted a picture of evil, deprived spirits feasting on our lusts when we give in to them.  It’s an image I’ve used to fight these temptations. 

    Another tool I’ve used that is kind of silly, but I really think works is, when I get those thoughts or ideas, if possible, I will say out loud, “Not today, Satan.  You can send your minions home.  You’re not winning today.”  It’s strange to say, but I think there is real power in this.  There’s something about telling Satan you won’t let him win.  Obviously, the real power comes with prayer. 

    As I said, this struggle may never completely go away.  It’s ok to talk about it.  I think we should be more willing to admit that we have faults, sometimes we slip up, and then to pick ourselves back up.

    Finally, I’d like to discuss my thoughts on repenting through these mistakes.  I’m hopeful writing my thoughts out will help me understand how I feel about this, as it’s something I truly struggle with – the guilt of slipping up and making a mistake.  It’s difficult to desperately want to be “perfect” and to constantly fall short.  We all experience this.  It is in no way exclusive to lust or pornography.  This is about sin in general.

    I’ve found that it’s critical for me not to kick myself too hard while I’m down, after I make a mistake.  This inevitably makes it harder to repent.  Sometimes I don’t even want to kneel and ask forgiveness because I feel so hypocritical.  How can I repent for something I’ve done 100 times?  Does God even respect me at that point?  The answer is, whether or not God respects me, He loves me.  That’s so much more comforting.

    Telling us not to repent, that we’re hypocrites, and we’re unworthy of forgiveness is a tool of Satan we must avoid.  God always wants us to repent.  I will say this again with emphasis:  GOD ALWAYS WANTS US TO REPENT.  There is no time, ever, that God wants us to feel such guilt that we can’t come to him.  Hypocrite or not.  We can’t be fooled in those greatest moments of weakness to think that God does not want us to come to him meekly, humbly, and ask for forgiveness.  Christ’s Atonement covers all.  I know He wishes us always to use the gift He freely gave to us.  Especially when it’s hard, humbling, and humiliating.

    That said, we must take our sins seriously.  It can’t be a cavalier, “well I did it again.”  Get on your knees, say sorry, do it again tomorrow.  That’s not how it works.  Look in your heart and find the sorrow for what you’ve done.  I’ve found it helpful to break down into great detail why what I did was wrong.  Who am I hurting?  That’s often myself.  Who could I hurt?  Who am I objectifying and how are my actions showing a disrespect to God’s extremely sacred gifts?  Sin is not a joke, and we must never treat it as such.

    To the lovely, strong, beautiful women of the world – please, be patient with us.  It’s harder to be a man than you will ever know, just as it’s harder (in different ways) to be a woman than we’ll ever know.

    I’d like to thank Beth for her help in preparing this post.  Never has something I’ve written required so much editing, and she was critical in that.  I’m grateful for a wife that understands these things and whom I can talk candidly to about these topics.  Beth and I have had many of these conversations.  I’ve never felt judged by my wife.  In fact, discussions with her help me to go easier on myself and feel her support.  That is empowering and has helped me to be a better man.  I couldn’t be that, a better man, without her support. 

  • Recovery

    Recovery

    Since I wrote that dramatic post about my near death it’s probably good etiquette to write a follow up about how I’m recovering.

    The human body is a truly extraordinary thing.  Blows my mind that some people think this thing that has a trillion parts working perfectly together can have fallen together like a puzzle from the sky.  My healing has gone extremely well.  It’s gone so well that Beth has had to remind me on multiple occasions about the seriousness of my accident.

    Seriously.  I think about what happened, and it doesn’t coincide with how smoothly my recovery has been.  That’s not to say it’s been a complete walk in the park.  There is a fair amount of pain, my head is constantly leaking, my arm hurts.  All in all, it’s not that bad.

    The truth is, my comfortable recovery may be due in large part to my on-staff nurse (I love you!).  Beth has been the most attentive, caring, helpful person ever.  Sometimes I wonder how she’s caring for me and a newborn all at the same time.  Beth has daily and sometimes multiple times a day re-dressed my wounds.  She’s taken off the bandages, helped clean, re-anoint, re-bandage my head and shoulder at least once a day since I was hurt.  No wonder I’m healing well.

    There was one night that was extraordinarily painful.  The fifth night I think it was.  We had wrapped my arm and shoulder like normal.  Over the course of the night it itched and stung and hurt.  Around 11pm I unwrapped the wound.  I applied more ointment which didn’t help.  Then I made a potentially grave mistake.  We have some antiseptic numbing spray that in bold red letters on the bottle says “NO STING.”  The greatest act of false advertising in the history of false advertising.  The only defense I can think of is maybe they claim it’s no sting, instead it BURNS.  It hurt so bad. 

    I spent four hours basically pacing around in pain.  It’s crazy, a gaping head wound and it’s the road rash that is hurting, by far, the most.

    Again, I feel extraordinarily blessed with how I’ve improved.  I even worked a half day the first week.  I would have worked another half day if not for the great night of burning arm.  I attribute my recovery, apart from my visible angel here with me (Beth), to the same thing I attribute my life.  I believe God and angels I can’t see are attending to me daily.

    I want to thank everyone for their support while I’ve been hurt.  It’s heart-warming to get messages of love and care from so many people.

    In my last post I talked about the two things my mind rested on.  God and family.  There’s something that wasn’t said that I want to make sure is extremely clear.  Family doesn’t only mean blood family.  We’re all family here and while I’ve been blessed with the most amazing blood family, in-laws, wife, and daughter, it’s my extended, non-blood family that feels over the top.

    As I’ve been hurt I’ve thought about all the people in my life that I can rely on.  When I came to Arizona I moved away from all family.  I didn’t know that I’d end up having so many people basically adopt me into their care.  Friends that will drop anything to help me, offers for me to come over for holidays, help moving, help with my car.  I was blessed with a roommate who’s family became my family away from home. 

    There are so many people I owe so much to.

    This is personal, something I’ve never told anyone.  In my prayers I often ask God what I did to deserve so much love?  A loving family, loving friends.  So many people that care for and watch out for me.  It’s something I’ve asked often.  I don’t know what I did to deserve so many amazing people in my life.  All I know is I’m grateful for them.

    So, thank you everyone for continuing to help us and watch over us.  Thank you for the love.  It means so much. 

    God and family.

    ____________________________________

    Here is the progression of my arm healing (If you’re looking for day by day healing updates on my head, gross, go watch pimple popper videos). By the way, I’m not flexing in all those pictures, I still can’t fully extend my right arm:

    Day 1
    Day 1
    Day 2
    Day 3
    Day 3
    Day 3
    Day 3
    Day 4
    Day 4
    Day 5
    Day 11
    Day 11

    Can’t end with mutilated arm pictures, to lighten things up: