Friday, December 19, 2014

The Cosby Dilema

   

     Several women have surfaced and re-surfaced alleging that America's beloved and now beleaguered Bill Cosby drugged and sexually assaulted them. This isn't Mr. Cosby's first go-round with such accusations. Almost a decade ago, he was in the headlines for similar reasons. Could it be true that "Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable," our Jell-O pudding spokesperson, the voice of the cartoon character Fat Albert, is guilty of these sex crimes? If he is, I wouldn't be surprised.
     I am not saying that these women are right, I am not saying Mr. Cosby is guilty, I have no evidence to determine such things. What I'm saying is, if it turned out to be true, it wouldn't shock me. I am not taken a back by anyone's shattered persona anymore, because that is how sex addiction works. Someone who is caught in the throes of sex addiction often has a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde existance.  And to be able to live with himself, Dr. Jekyll has to be in deep denial about Mr. Hyde. Acknowledging that Hyde-like behavior is real is too painful, too conflicting so there has to be a seperation of the two personalities to be able to co-exist in the same head and heart. The longer the bad behavior has been present, the deeper the denial, which literally makes it impossible for the sex addict to be truthful. And the more there is to lose, the deeper that denial goes.
     This is the case for many pastors. They can preach the word of God with great conviction on Sunday mornings, but on Monday they are locked in their office looking at pornography. And for others, justification has taken them down the path of adultery, but the price of coming clean is too high; their ministry, their livelihood, their marriages, they fear, would all be gone. So they dig deeper into that cavern of denial. They are fooled into thinking that living a lie is easier than living in the freedom of truth. And some have been in the throes of sexual addiction so long, they simply do not have the capacity to be truthful. That is why many people have to be caught before change can happen. It doesn't have to be that way, but, sadly, that's the way it is for many.
     Before recovery, I fooled myself into thinking that because I hadn't spoken any lies to my wife, I wasn't lying to her. But not being forthright about my secret sins was leading her to believe things were one way when they were really another. That's deception, and that is living a lie. Not at all what God wants for His children. Thinking I wasn't lying to my wife was one form of denial present in my life. Denial is powerful. It gives us a sense of safety. We use it to protect ourselves from painful truths and realities. But what denial really does is keep people stuck and removed from a genuine life and authenticity.
     Someone may be reading this article right now with denial walls erected all around them. I say "sex addiction" and they think "not me." So, when is addiction present? When there is repeated behavior that is contrary to one's morals or belief systems, usually done in secret, and if it was found out, it would cause great pain to loved ones. Is there a combination of any of these elements in your life? If so, God is calling you out from behind the walls of denial. There is hope. Living an authentic life is so much better than living in deceit with secrets, no matter how high the cost seems in being truthful. Nothing good grows in the dark. There is healing to be had but you need to step out into the light.
     For help, visit us at missionariestoministers.com or email us at missionariestoministers@gmail.com
   

Sunday, May 5, 2013

The Pastor and the Pedestal


   

   
Whether they climbed up there themselves or were given a boost, pastors usually find themselves on a pedestal. Even if a pastor tells his or her congregation that they are a sinner saved by grace like everyone else, it is hard for a congregant to believe that. Pastors are usually only seen by their parishioners on Sundays, elevated on a platform, wearing their Sunday best, hands raised in worship and preaching the Word of God. It is difficult for someone sitting in the pew to relate to that perceived perfection. And it makes it hard for the pastor to find a safe place to go when the pedestal starts to teeter.


     The title of pastor and the perception of the congregation or staff does not prevent the reality of struggling, brokenness and temptation in the minister’s life. A sermon may address the hurting, but who is addressing the hurting preacher? The church is filled with broken people, and so is the pulpit.

     Many pastors are guilty of not practicing what they are preaching. They encourage their congregation to take care of themselves and make sure there is time for a Sabbath, but their own calendar runs them ragged. They preach on nurturing a loving marriage relationship, yet their own spouse is feeling neglected and resentful. They warn of the dangers of sexual immorality, yet many are secretly struggling with purity themselves.

     We are all broken people. We just have different details. Healthy pastors are not “unbroken,” they just know where to go to deal with that brokenness. Healthy broken pastors have safe people in their lives that they are currently and frequently talking to. I heard one pastor say he has a group of people he can go to and they are allowed to ask the tough questions, but I thought to myself, “Are you going and are they asking?” And sometimes, good friends are not enough to help a pastor deal with deep seeded issues that have not been properly addressed and have been buried because the pastor is the one who is expected to have it all together. Professional help is available and often times necessary to provide a safe place for growth and healing.

   God wants all of His children to be healthy in their brokenness, including pastors. If the mantle of the ministry is hindering personal growth and healing, take a leap off the pedestal and find a safe place to land before it topples.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Is Your Bio Authentic?

   
     I look at a lot of church websites in my day to day routine, and  I was perusing a particular one when I noticed a pastor's bio. His enthusiasm was infectious. He declared he was thrilled to be serving with this congregation and that God was going to do incredible things through his ministry. He seemed genuine. He sounded like he meant every word. Little did I know that this particular pastor and his wife would end up in our counseling office painting a picture that was nothing like the website bio.
     Sitting before us was a broken couple. Their marriage was struggling. He was burnt out on ministry. The pressure he felt was getting unbearable for him, for both of them. As I listened to him share, I realized that many pastors and spouses are in the same situation. Their church website bio may say what's expected, but behind closed doors, their hearts are expressing something completely contrary to what the church sees. Their sermons are well-crafted and exquisitely delivered while their spouses sit on the front row listening attentively, but back at home it's a completely different scene. There are arguments, or worse, perpetual silence. They parent as best they can, but in the bedroom, they are merely roommates.
     Pastor, what would your "about us" tab on your family website say? How contrasting would it be against what is portrayed on the church website or in the pulpit? My prayer for pastors is that they would attain an authentic ministry, that the image projected on Sundays would be a genuine reflection of the private life that is led behind closed doors instead of a cover-up.
     We were not meant to live this life alone. If anything above rings true for you, reach out for help. Find a safe person to be vulnerable with and let healing begin. God's desire is for you to be authentic, and that is our ministry goal as Missionaries to Ministers.
   
   

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Sheep are Dying!



      I was in the Modesto, CA area presenting a seminar. As I was pulling out of the parking lot  the Lord dropped a phrase into my mind. “The Sheep are dying.”  The most reliable stats I’ve discovered say that 70% of Christians, the sheep in the church, struggle with pornography. One in three visitors to adult websites are women. 96% of teenagers have internet access (and we are well aware of the level of self-control teenagers have). This all adds up to a great percentage in the church that are struggling with or have been affected by pornography or some sort of sexual addiction. Sexual addiction is marked by repeated behavior, a constant returning, cyclical sin. The Bible teaches us the wages or payoff of sin is death (Romans 6:23). If Christians are struggling with repeated sin, then something is dying, a marriage, a grasp on reality, intimacy, honesty, a soul... I should know. I was a "repeat offender," and my denial kept me from seeing that my wife was dying on the vine. 
     This is one of our hurdles, to get pastors to see that their sheep are dying, but this takes seeing the unseen. You can’t see sexual addiction, yet it sits in the pews every Sunday. We hear sermons on gossiping and the importance of tithing (and it is important), but we do not often hear a message on the devastating effects of pornography and sexual addiction, yet these messages would pertain to a high percentage of the congregation. Pastors are always seeking ways to preach more relevant sermons. Believe me, an educated sermon on the trap of pornography and the effects of sexual addiction is highly relevant for the church today. The sheep are dying.
     And sometimes the dying sheep is standing in the pulpit. I'm not surprised by anyone's story anymore no matter how they may come across in front of a crowd or at a gathering of pastors. Several who appeared to have it all together have reached out to us proving that they really don't. And that's when healing begins. When the silence is broken, life is breathed back into dying marriages and sickly souls. There is hope... I should know... 
  This is why our ministry exists, to help dying sheep... and shepherds. 

Thursday, October 13, 2011

We Don't Do Altar Calls

     When Marty and I travel to a church and share our story of recovery around sexual addiction, we don't give an altar call at the end. Don't think us unspiritual, but we are not there to expose anybody who may be struggling with sexual sin, but rather to encourage them , connect with them, and hold out hope. That's not to say that we don't talk to several people after a seminar or a sermon. Some boldly approach us, like the woman who bee-lined to me after I was done preaching. This stranger hugged me, and through her tears, thanked me for sharing my story. Her marriage was destroyed by her husband's pornography use, but her gratitude towards us revealed that there was healing happening in her heart.



     Another young man waited patiently for us to finish up a conversation. He was a brawny guy, looked like he could hold his own, but he sat there timidly until we were available to talk. He told us that he used to be a bouncer in a strip club, and that job led to him participating in adult films. He admitted he had been completely desensitized to the intimacy that is supposed to be involved in sex. Then he looked at me and with one tear running down his face he asked, "With my past, how is anybody going to love me?" We were there to hold out hope to him.
     After one particular weekend of ministry, we were packing up the car getting ready to pull out. As I was putting our bin in the trunk, another young man walked up to us. Perhaps he didn't want anyone to see him talking to us inside the church for fear of people wondering what his motives were in approaching us. He apologized for interrupting our departure, but I assured him we were there for him. And he began to tell us his complicated story. We listened, encouraged, held out hope, and prayed with him.
     And these individuals represent people who sit in churches all over our country. On the outside, everything looks normal, but behind the scenes is a story that no one would fathom. That's why we do what we do. We share our story of brokenness and healing so that others will know there is hope. Our details may be different, but our God is the same and His healing is available to all His hurting children.
     If anything is taken away from a sermon, a seminar, or a one on one conversation, we want it to be the message that there is hope. We are living proof. So, we don't do altar calls, but a lot still gets accomplished whether it's inside the building or out in the parking lot.
     There is hope.

Monday, June 6, 2011

The Power of Denial and Compartmentalization

     I'm glad Rep. Anthony Weiner admitted his indiscretions today. I'm not happy about it, but I'm glad because it gives me a chance to address something that has such a hold on so many people, denial and compartmentalization. The married New York lawmaker was caught up in a scandal involving lewd pictures of himself that he sent to some female facebook friends. At first he denied it claiming his account was hacked. But today he came clean.
     In my studies about sexual addiction, I read that someone has to be scared enough to change (or angry or frustrated enough), and for too many men, it takes being caught before a true confession comes out. Why is this? Why do so many men live secret lives when their  appearances depict something completely to the contrary? Denial and compartmentalization make it all possible.
     Denial is something we develop when we are young. It is a defense mechanism. It keeps us safe from a painful truth. When I was in 9th grade, I still hadn't started showering daily before school. On one particular day, we were taking school pictures. This one kid in line took notice of my appearance and exclaimed, "Your hair's greasy!" I immediately responded with, "It is not!" But it was. He was right, but I was so embarrassed because of his declaration, that I had to defend myself from the painful and humiliating truth. After this incident, I immediately began showering daily.
     Rep. Weiner said in his press conference today that he was embarrassed to admit that he was involved in this and he didn't want to bring duress upon his wife. His denial defenses were in full swing.
     He also said, "If you're looking for some kind of deep explanation for this, I don't have one except to say that I'm very sorry." May I offer one? Compartmentalization. Men are very good at it. It helps them live out double lives and not go crazy because their actions radically contradict their morals and beliefs. In dealing with my sin cycle, I had to compartmentalize so I could live with myself. When I was tempted to act out, I would leave Christian, Pastor, and Husband Shane over here so I could go do what my flesh wanted to do. I even compartmentalized God, putting Him way up in heaven so I could indulge. I knew He could see me, but He was a universe away in my thinking, even though I was raised to believe that God dwells within us as Christians. And on the journey back from Sinful Shane to Christian Shane, I would ask forgiveness for my sins and then carry on with my normal looking life. 
     Sadly, this is the cycle so many men are trapped in. Denial and compartmentalization  are the bars on the prison cell, but silence is the lock. When men don't talk about their struggles, weaknesses and temptations, they stay bound and for many, it takes getting caught to change one's behavior. And in the meantime, they live a lie. That's what I was doing. I never spoke untruths from my mouth, but I led my wife to believe things were one way when they were actually another. That's deceitful. That's living a lie.  That's leaving behind a legacy I would never want to leave. And it's all made possible because of the power of denial and compartmentalization. 
     Brothers, if this is your life, please talk to someone. There may be consequences to telling the truth, but at least you won't have to be living a lie anymore. "Therefore, confess your sins to each other, and pray for each other so that you may be healed," James 5:16. Confession + prayer = healing. 

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Time Hurts All Wounds

In light of Arnold Schwartzenegger's recent admission that he was unfaithful to his wife of 25 years and fathered a child out of wedlock, I'm betting what compounds Maria Shriver's pain is how long it took for her husband to confess. For over 10 years, she had no idea what her husband had been involved in. The betrayal is bad enough, but believing things are one way for so long when they are not is salt in the wound.
     I could expound on the former governor's situation, but I'll shift to my own experiences. When I was still struggling with my secret sins, I didn't think I was lying to my wife about it because I didn't tell her any untruths. My mouth was not guilty of lying, but not saying anything led her to believe things were one way when they were actually very different. That was deception, but my denial didn't let me think of myself as a liar because I didn't tell any lies. Looking back on those years, I was living a lie.
     So many people are afraid to let their loved one's know what has been happening because of the fear of  hurting them. They assess their spouse's current stress level and don't want to add to the pressure, so they continue to live in a way that is deceptive. In my experience the longer it takes for the truth to come out, the more painful the situation becomes. I've heard wives express after hearing a confession from their husband that what hurt the most was how long it took for them to come clean. The original offense is hard enough to deal with, but fear of consequences leads to living a lie.
     When we're counseling a couple who is dealing with sexual betrayal, we help them set up a parameter. If there is a slip (viewing pornography, etc.), the spouse must be told within a 24 hour period. There is never a good time to admit an offense, but waiting adds to the difficulty of it.
     I'm heartbroken for the Schwartzenegger's and the other family affected by this. I prayerfully type this post hoping that it will help someone own their behavior and choose to make things right if need be. The consequences may seem unbearable, but at the very least there is the consolation of being free from living a lie.