Moral Courage

But first, a hymn that describes my feelings about my Savior:

Jesus, the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far thy face to see
And in thy presence rest.

Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the mem'ry find
A sweeter sound than thy blest name
O Savior of mankind!

O hope of ev'ry contrite heart
O joy of all the meek
To those who fall, how kind thou art!
How good to those who seek!

Jesus, [my] only joy be thou,
As thou [my] prize wilt be;
Jesus, be thou [my] glory now,
And thru eternity.

Text by Bernard of Clairvaux, translated by Edward Caswall. Italics added

I love it. I'm making this my default song. There's always a song playing in my head. Sometimes that's really annoying. If I don't like the song in my head, I now switch to this one. It's such a beautiful melody, too. Here's the Mormon Tabernacle Choir doing a wonderful job of singing it.

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About two weeks ago, I had a wonderful opportunity to listen to the Spirit and act with great moral courage.

I did neither.

As a result, I was rendered weak and visionless. And I fell, on my 38th day.

My best friend's friend invited her and me to a show. A burlesque, he said. I said, "doesn't that mean it's naughty?" he said no and showed me a description of the show. It looked pretty innocent. I even looked up "burlesque" online and read the first thing that came up on Wikipedia (I know, I know), and was convinced that I had been mistaken. It sounded like a great time. I accepted the invitation, knowing my kids would be at their dad's.

But, I received a strong warning. I pretended I couldn't tell if I was just making it up or not. Looking back, it was like the Spirit was practically begging me to not go. I didn't have to go. I could have stayed home. Why didn't I just say no? Ignoring that precious Voice, I went.

At that point, I should have walked out as soon as the show started. Actually, the first few "acts" were pretty impressive and not inappropriate. But "inappropriate" would be a very mild term for the acts that followed. I should have run away. I imagine if I'd run, I'd have been given strength to put out of my mind what I'd just seen. I'd have received grace, and temptation would have been farther. But run I did not. I just about couldn't. I felt so glued. I was watching live porn, basically. No one was ever totally nude. But....

I went. I stayed. I died. I came home and couldn't get it out of my mind. I hadn't looked up porn on the Net for over three months until that day. And since that day, I haven't been able to regain hope, or diminish my shame, guilt, pain. I have been in a deep depression, much deeper than it has been in several months. I've been overwhelmed, discouraged, severely disappointed, emotionally abusive to myself.

It's a little better today. Today I'm more determined to succeed. Today I'm remembering that Jesus still died for me, that He took upon Him even these last sins. And if I can make it 37 days, then I can make it 38. And so on. So. I'm starting over. But I'll run farther this time.

This Sunday, I'm going to a non-denominational sexaholics anonymous meeting.

I need my Savior. I need the Spirit. I pray for another chance to listen, and for the moral courage to do so.