The Damage Comes After
One of the best times of the year for me is January/ February. Not just because of the prime of winter or the birth of the new year. It's also not because of Christmas' aftermath where one enjoys the gifts given to them by family and friends. This season is enjoyable because of the distribution of highly anticipated Girl Scout Cookies. My favorite are the chocolate thin mints. This standard green box consist of two rolls of goodness wrapped in clear packaging paper, ready to be ripped open by my eager hands. These cookies, when placed in my care, are usually consumed within minutes. I basically inhale these sweet , crunchy calories before my stomach can make room for them. I've loved them every since my sisters and I were kids.
My older sister was a Girl Scout trooper back in the early 90s. We as a family were then introduced to this cookie craze and have been fans every since. My body has established a natural craving that I satisfy every 365 days. Over the years, I've become lactose-intolerant as well as non-immune to certain snacks . The familiarity with this digestive curse can be understood by many of us who were raised off of processed milk containing unnatural chemicals, causing our bodies to reject dairy products. This past weekend, I bought a small pint of ice cream (by which I ate after partaking a lactose pill). I took some thin mints and dipped them in the small cup, covering them with cold vanilla, caramel, and small pieces of chocolate-covered waffle cones. Heaven, I tell you ! Though the edible experience was pleasing to my pallet, I would pay the price much later.
I recently posted a spoken word piece pertaining to the progressive stages of pornography addiction. Most of us don't wish to discuss such a sensitive issue, especially us men, for its one of the many vices we partake in the dark, hoping no one finds out about it. Last night, I had a dream about my friend and a prostitute. My friend paid for her services, but couldn't have them rendered, for he was married. He then passed on her services to me. I was hesitant at first, but found myself engaging. It was after wards that I became ashamed of what I've done , and most importantly, ashamed of the prostitute. Most dreams are hazy, missing minor details, such as faces and words. This dream was very vivid. The woman had a distinctive face. She had long, straight hair, a black shirt with leggings, boots, and a purse. She sat down in the living room, waiting for her pimp to pick her up. My family was questioning her presence, wondering why she was there since they were aware of her profession. My personal guilt was in the flesh, sitting near me, bold, confident that she had a right to exist, even in my dreams. The desire feels wonderful once satisfied, but what follows doesn't sit well in the stomach, and in this case, the soul.
Aren't you tired of the damage that comes after? We know that we are lactose-intolerant, that pornography and prostitution is morally wrong, that gluttony of all types of substances isn't good for us on several levels, yet we ingest them anyway. Is it worth it? Stains can be difficult to get out, especially when in the fabric of our God-given spirits. They tend to stay there when we forget that we've been cleansed by His living sacrifice. Imagine walking around everyday along side your debasement. You wouldn't be pleased with it speaking on your behalf, especially to those you love. Don't give your craving a face, let along an entire presence. They are growing everyday, becoming our representation. They are speaking our words, performing our actions, dictating our lives. 1 Peter 2:19 states that " you are a slave to whatever has mastered you". It's time that we unhook those mental chains, even if they aren't heavy at first, because soon enough, the weight will increase, chaffing your ankles as you continue to drag the load. No, it may not bother you personally, but what about the people you interact with--the wife, husband, kids, friends, coworkers, strangers, etc. Stains spread, my friend. All it needs is a clean texture into which to soak.
I love chocolate thin mints! Lord knows I do, but I kill 'em dead before they ever cause me physical discomfort. I've given up a lot of edible pleasures over the years, including ranch dressing, the occasional hamburger, milkshakes, and grapes. Yes, grapes! Now days, I stick to apples, oranges, and other fruits. They may not be appeasing as Honey Buns and Snickers, but the long-lasting effect is that my teeth stay clean and I consume my daily vitamins. The question isn't does what you do feels good to you because we all know it does. It's are you willing to endure the bad consequences. If you're not, than it's time to give a great farewell to your spiritual cancer who's only initial objective is to tear you down and apart into smaller pieces to be distributed amongst the innocent. It may feel pleasing, but you don't deserve repercussions.
My older sister was a Girl Scout trooper back in the early 90s. We as a family were then introduced to this cookie craze and have been fans every since. My body has established a natural craving that I satisfy every 365 days. Over the years, I've become lactose-intolerant as well as non-immune to certain snacks . The familiarity with this digestive curse can be understood by many of us who were raised off of processed milk containing unnatural chemicals, causing our bodies to reject dairy products. This past weekend, I bought a small pint of ice cream (by which I ate after partaking a lactose pill). I took some thin mints and dipped them in the small cup, covering them with cold vanilla, caramel, and small pieces of chocolate-covered waffle cones. Heaven, I tell you ! Though the edible experience was pleasing to my pallet, I would pay the price much later.
I recently posted a spoken word piece pertaining to the progressive stages of pornography addiction. Most of us don't wish to discuss such a sensitive issue, especially us men, for its one of the many vices we partake in the dark, hoping no one finds out about it. Last night, I had a dream about my friend and a prostitute. My friend paid for her services, but couldn't have them rendered, for he was married. He then passed on her services to me. I was hesitant at first, but found myself engaging. It was after wards that I became ashamed of what I've done , and most importantly, ashamed of the prostitute. Most dreams are hazy, missing minor details, such as faces and words. This dream was very vivid. The woman had a distinctive face. She had long, straight hair, a black shirt with leggings, boots, and a purse. She sat down in the living room, waiting for her pimp to pick her up. My family was questioning her presence, wondering why she was there since they were aware of her profession. My personal guilt was in the flesh, sitting near me, bold, confident that she had a right to exist, even in my dreams. The desire feels wonderful once satisfied, but what follows doesn't sit well in the stomach, and in this case, the soul.
Aren't you tired of the damage that comes after? We know that we are lactose-intolerant, that pornography and prostitution is morally wrong, that gluttony of all types of substances isn't good for us on several levels, yet we ingest them anyway. Is it worth it? Stains can be difficult to get out, especially when in the fabric of our God-given spirits. They tend to stay there when we forget that we've been cleansed by His living sacrifice. Imagine walking around everyday along side your debasement. You wouldn't be pleased with it speaking on your behalf, especially to those you love. Don't give your craving a face, let along an entire presence. They are growing everyday, becoming our representation. They are speaking our words, performing our actions, dictating our lives. 1 Peter 2:19 states that " you are a slave to whatever has mastered you". It's time that we unhook those mental chains, even if they aren't heavy at first, because soon enough, the weight will increase, chaffing your ankles as you continue to drag the load. No, it may not bother you personally, but what about the people you interact with--the wife, husband, kids, friends, coworkers, strangers, etc. Stains spread, my friend. All it needs is a clean texture into which to soak.
I love chocolate thin mints! Lord knows I do, but I kill 'em dead before they ever cause me physical discomfort. I've given up a lot of edible pleasures over the years, including ranch dressing, the occasional hamburger, milkshakes, and grapes. Yes, grapes! Now days, I stick to apples, oranges, and other fruits. They may not be appeasing as Honey Buns and Snickers, but the long-lasting effect is that my teeth stay clean and I consume my daily vitamins. The question isn't does what you do feels good to you because we all know it does. It's are you willing to endure the bad consequences. If you're not, than it's time to give a great farewell to your spiritual cancer who's only initial objective is to tear you down and apart into smaller pieces to be distributed amongst the innocent. It may feel pleasing, but you don't deserve repercussions.
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