By SALTY Admin
It is true what they say about women. We have the ability to hide things very well. We cover things with a smile and cloak ourselves in feminine etiquette so you may never know our true thoughts. The world would have you believe that at all times a lady is a lady in deed, manner, speech and in thought. They call us flowers for our beauty and delicacy, but never stop to think about their meaning or their thorns.
Only the male gender salivates at a computer screen imagining things so vividly he can almost touch them. Only guys throw away their virginity at the slightest touch. To think that guys are the only ones plagued by their flesh, daily, hourly, within the second is foolish to say the least. Women are struck just as hard by the devil’s devious tactics and our own flesh workings. I dare say we may have it worse; because not only are we stricken with the corruption of our eyes and hands, our hearts tend to follow our sight and touch. I was that girl. The harlot, the whoremonger, the rose on her way to hell and she didn’t even know it!
I don’t remember when lust began to take over my life. It seeped in and began its saturation before I was even allowed to date. Way before I had my first kiss I knew myself. Nobody ever told me it was wrong but I knew it was not “normal” or morally acceptable so I told no one and deluded myself into thinking, “Well, it’s better than having sex.” But it wasn’t. I was only planting seeds of lust, which would sprout and cause more chaos than I could ever imagine.
By the time I was 16, I craved attention in any way I could receive it. My father had passed away 2 years prior and I longed for something to fill the gaping hole in my chest. The late nights in the dark I spent with myself were no longer enough. My thoughts needed to materialize outside of myself to curb the hunger. Then he came along. We had been together no more than two weeks when I professed love to him – way before I knew what or rather who Love was. Not too long after, we lost ourselves to each other in a bathroom stall. I told myself it was okay, because I was doing these things with the man I “loved.”
Three pregnancy scares, a possible cancer diagnosis, one cheating boyfriend and a lost count of how many lovers later I found myself at rock bottom. I was failing school, addicted to porn and wasting away. The shame I lost somewhere between 19 and 20 began to find itself back in my heart. What was I doing? Why could I not stop? I would wake up in the middle of the night because my dreams even consisted of sex. I could not turn my computer on without searching the unmentionables. It was everywhere! In the things I watched, the books I read, the conversations I held. It literally consumed my entire life. I was covered in sin from head to toe.
My grandmother taught me what sin was when I was a little girl. But I didn’t totally grasp it until I was 21. I started going to church faithfully with a friend. Through him I found the truth I was missing in my faith. I was baptized in Jesus’ name and received the Holy Ghost, yet I still found myself unable to tame my flesh. I was seeing some one and thought that this relationship was much different than all the others. This was “God” ordained. But no matter how much God loves you, he still hates sin! We fought our flesh weakly and the day we lost I cried harder than I had ever cried before. He told me not to beat myself up about it. That it would never happen again. But wouldn’t it? I told God I was done with that life. I thought to myself, “Here I am once again hiding behind my flower exterior, but I am the same harlot I was when I was 16.”
The following month, the “prophesied” union had been shattered and disproved. I once again found myself at the altar on my face. I had come there many times before, pouring what I thought was all of my heart out to God, but this time was different. The day before I was about ready to let go of all that I loved to hide from the pain of what I thought I had lost. That day I realized that there was only one remedy for my ailment. I had to trust God! Not trust in God but TRUST God! There is a big difference in knowing that He can and believing that He will. He was and is the ONLY thing that could ever fill the scathing gash in my heart that I picked at all these years. I had to surrender completely to Him; submit myself in every facet of my life. It wasn’t enough to claim Him to be my Lord; He must also become my Jehovah Jireh. I could no longer seek out things on my own. I could not fight the temptation of my flesh alone. I had to forgive myself before He could love me like He wanted to. At that altar I lost myself and found Him.
I was born of Adam’s rib and I was once devoured by the same temptation the world thinks is man’s alone. But am I not man? Am I not of his bone? I no longer am! I am not my own. I once was a withering rose, tattered and bruised. Now I am a sunflower: beaming, standing tall, forgiven and always leaning toward the light.
By Morgan McCoy
Find this feature and other stories in our Purity issue of SALTY Magazine. Order below and share with friends: