by Luke Gilkerson
For a long time, I viewed my sexuality as a curse. I was a mixture of terrible paradoxes: desiring to save sex for marriage on one hand, but deeply fearful of romantic relationships on the other; desiring purity in my thoughts and conduct, but really, really enjoying pornography.
Masturbation and erotic fantasy was a convenient but miserable halfway house—it was easier than actually trusting God while pursuing wholesome relationships. I was begrudgingly of the opinion of Oscar Wilde, who said masturbation is “cleaner, more efficient, and you meet a better class of person.”
If you had been one of my “accountability partners,” you probably would have seen a man who was pursuing sexual purity. I prayed about it, read books about it, went to counseling about it, and even attended conferences about it. But no matter what I did, repentance never seemed to stick.
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