The Prostitution of Immodesty-Explaining the Battle of Lust

Modesty in clothing is one of those subjects of which I am most passionate. Let me bluntly explain why: I struggle with lust, and my husband does as well. This is one of the things in which we have fought together. It has put both the most strain and the most camaraderie in our marriage. I think it is the duty of women like me to explain the importance of modesty as best we can, so that other men and women can be understand on a less superficial level why it is vital to the life of Christian women.

First, allow me to explain how a person lusts.

Lust is not the immediate, uncontrollable, physical response to a man or women who is attractive. It is the purposeful dwelling on how they look (their breasts, legs, figure, etc.) and deciding to wonder what it would be like to have a sexual experience with them. This can be as mild as imagining them naked or more extreme – such as a forced sexual experience. It is to have mental power over them, and a lusting person almost always believes he or she could approach the object of their lust and have exactly what they desire.

Imagine building a habit of lust. Every person you see who is attractive or dressed sexually stays in your thoughts, fantasies, and you create opportunities to be around the person. You habitually “use” such people in your mind, without their knowledge, to maintain a sexual high. You begin to look for and hope to see people who are more easily fantasized about. You look for the short skirts, the shorts, the tight clothes, the unbuttoned blouse or shirt. You crave seeing people to arouse you. Once you’ve built this habit, it takes months to kill it, and you can never safely look at people again. You have to fight the desire, avoid the circumstances you once created, and try to recreate what you look for in people.

Having explained this, perhaps it makes more sense why I am so adamant that men and women do their best to be modest. When a person makes the decision to fight against lusting, it means changing a mental habit; as any habit, being forced to deal with what tempts you every day is exhausting, and the sexualized body is much harder to escape than cigarettes and alcohol. 

This is a personal fight for me, and it additionally is a passion for me because I fought to be modest before I married. Why should that make a difference? It means I won over my husband without the need to attract him sexually. Not only that, I fought for him. I still fight for him, and it hurts me when women only seem to care about getting superficial attention. Instead, it’s the easy way. Sometimes they say it’s because they need to do so to feel beautiful. I think they just aren’t creative enough to be modestly beautiful.

Though some may argue that scripture never mentions specific ways of being modest, it does say not to do anything which causes your brother to sin. In short, if you dress immodestly, you are sinning. Do you want to dress modestly? Ask someone (of your own gender or someone to whom you’re related) how you can. They will be able to tell you what makes keeping a pure mind more difficult. They know the difference between beauty and seduction.

Keep Crying

I hate it when people use their blogs to complain, so please forgive me for indulging my need to share my current struggle.

It’s been a hard week… month… year. As my health continuously declines, I am faced with more challenges to overcome. People who realize the severity of my fibromyalgia are shocked to know how much I still do. Most others, at this point, would be spending a lot of time resting, off their feet, medicated, and undergoing any treatment imaginable. I don’t have time for that, nor money, nor a desire for idleness and the fog which comes with being medicated enough to dull my pain. I would rather deal with the pain, most days; it’s the exhaustion that gets to me.

I used to be a non-crier. I cried maybe at funerals. Maybe. These days, I cry at least once a week. I told Benny I never know if it’s because I’m tired, because of the constant pain, because of problems at work… he said he would guess it’s the combination and the lack of control from working until I’m falling over worn out.

Heck, that sounds pretty bad… but I could even deal with being tired if I didn’t have a job. That’s the straw that breaks my back. I wake up in the morning with pretty good energy, ready to take on the day and get things done. Then I go to work. I use up all my energy trying to fit a housewife’s daily work into five hours, then I come home and have to fit in my own housewife work into the remainder of the day I’ve had… but I can’t. I can’t be a housewife in two homes. It depresses me. And the constant going means I’m constantly getting more tired. In the past week, Benny has had to drive me to and from work twice, and he’s had to have someone drive him there to pick me up on another day – because I would have been endangering others and myself trying to drive. Pathetic. And depressing.

And I ask myself: is it worth it? I know it is my duty to do my work well. I’m good at it, and I love it, but my job as a wife is more important to me. I’m not able to do both, and my home suffers as a result. I pray for strength to get through the morning – just the morning – then I pray to get through the afternoon and hope that nothing comes up in the evening.

I’m so tired. I would hand in my resignation today if I could, because I want to be a good wife. Working doesn’t feel like it does much, since I make under $800 barely keeping up with a part-time job, and most people could work full time at a better job.

I find myself praying that God would provide a way for me to do my job – my actual job – and quit the other one. I almost wish we could come by some inheritance that would help us survive for the next ten months – until Benny is out of school and can work. I can come up with schemes that seem to half work, but I keep coming to the same conclusion: I have to keep fighting. Keep crying because I can’t do both. Keep thanking Benny for being so understanding when his very sick wife can barely stand on her own two feet; keep apologizing that I can’t do more.

That’s all. I just needed to admit that I feel so dead, all the time, and I know others have had similar struggles and will understand. Sometimes, even admitting it makes one feel a little better.

A Day in My Shoes

Benny recently recommended that I write something describing how I go about my day – to help people understand how I cope, because I was explaining how people seem to be under strange assumptions concerning what I do to deal with my chronic illness. I’m taking his advice! Also, several have asked, and I want to help them understand as best I can. 

I usually start my mornings waking up as gradually as I can.  I am incredibly groggy and stiff, in the morning, but I try to ignore whatever is hurting.

Getting dressed is hard. I like to lay out my clothes the night before, because it’s hard for me to make decisions in the morning – especially when decisions need to be made quickly. At the same time, that might not be helpful, because my skin reacts differently to different fabrics and cuts on a day-to-day basis. I might put out a skirt and blouse for a day, get up that morning, and realize that anything cinching around my waist will cause too much pain, so I wear a dress instead. I try to gauge what I will be able to wear by the forecast, but it doesn’t always work.

Benny blesses me by making breakfast in the morning. If he didn’t make it, it probably wouldn’t happen. Since my brain seems to barely function, thinking through preparing something and actually doing it seem like two huge mountains of work. When we first were married, I really tried, but he gradually took over without any decision being made. I was very thankful and relieved.

We eat breakfast, have family devotions, and then my day begins. If it’s a work day for me, I go to work. Although I can’t be explicit about my workday, I can say that I work for five hours, five days a week, and I spread out the duties in my client’s home over the five days in such a way that it doesn’t exhaust me more than it needs to. I get home around 2:30PM, exhausted, and try to sit down for awhile, collect myself, and reboot as much as possible before mentally switching over to “housewife”.

At home, I try to keep the house generally neat and uncluttered. If there’s only a little bit to clean up every day, it’s far less stressful and physically demanding; however, sometimes I can’t even do a little, and rooms get away from me. Once a week, I dust thoroughly, vacuum, or scrub floors. Rarely do two of those overlap in a day. I keep a clean house because messiness stresses me to a point where I feel immobilized by the thought of having to gather enough strength to clean it up. Every week, I try to include a more vigorous task, such as wiping down cupboards or cleaning windows, but these rarely get finished because of everything else.

I’m sure it sounds like I have it pretty easy – light cleaning every day, with other tasks spread out – but it isn’t that simple. Every task has to be outlined beforehand. For example, if I decide to clean the living room, my list might look like this:

Clean living room

-clean up floor

-clean off coffee table

-put away books and CDs

-straighten up bookshelves

-dust

-vacuum

-wash windows and mirrors

-wipe off coffee table

It seems a little excessive, but if I don’t write it all out, it’s hard to finish, and I’m constantly worried about forgetting something. My “to do” lists are detailed, and I write them every day, including the things I do daily. A recent one:

To Do

Dust:

-living room

-bedroom

-bathroom

-study

Shower

Dishes

Supper

Sweep kitchen

E-mail Dad

Clean bedroom

For every task, I will have to convince myself to take it on. I rarely feel up to it, and I would rather sit and nurse my aches and pains, but I force myself to do everything because it’s my job. I’ll convince myself to dust and take fourty-five minutes to do it. I plan to take at least two hours to prepare supper, so usually by the time I’m done dusting, it’s time to start cooking. First, wash the dishes. It will take me awhile, because I take ten to fifteen minutes to prepare to wash dishes – by stacking them, putting hot water in the sink, and making sure there aren’t dishes hiding in other places. Washing them usually takes around half an hour. I have a stool to sit on so the standing doesn’t tire me overly much, because I need to be careful about using up energy before I even get around to making supper.

After the dishes are washed, I can start thinking about supper. I wipe down all the surfaces, then I look at the menu. I write out a monthly menu, which keeps me from stressing about varying the menu and forgetting groceries. Maybe it’s an easy day and the menu says I planned for spinach omelets. First, I get out all the ingredients I use for omelets: eggs, cheese, whatever meat I have, potatoes, corn, spinach, and perhaps other, random things. I chop up or measure everything into separate bowls, just as you would see on a cooking show, so everything is prepared, then I set out all the dishes I’ll need: plates for the omelets when they’re done, a spatula or two, the whisk, the skillet, and a bowl to whisk eggs in. All this preparation usually takes me half an hour to fourty-five minutes. Then I start cooking. Omelets are relatively easy. Cook the potatoes in the bottom of the skillet, whisk the eggs and chopped spinach together and pour over potatoes, flip omelet and add ingredients, put on plate. Half an hour to fourty-five minutes later, I’m done. This process seems overly complicated, but it’s the best way I’ve found to cook without causing undue stress.

When supper is eaten, I do internet tasks, which I try to keep short. When that’s over, I might take a shower. This is probably the most exhausting thing I’ll do during my day, because it requires constant activity and doesn’t allow for breaks. I usually take an hour to prepare, shower, get dressed and clean things up afterward. If I’m having a bad back day (meaning I can’t stand too long; chronic back pain means it always hurts – some times worse than others), I either take a bath or use my shower chair. The rest of the evening I usually spend off my feet or doing something with Benny. Once in awhile, we’ll walk or bike somewhere or nowhere. Sometimes we finish some cleaning/organizing task together or just sit around and do nothing. During school, I put a plate and note together for Benny’s lunch.

I really am very weak, and this is something I abhor about myself. I was once active and involved in other people’s lives. Now, social anxiety and the need to preserve energy keep me at home unless I need to go out or unless someone kindly plans an event. I do not, however, limit myself unnecessarily. I often can do more and am willing to do more active things when asked, but people often – while trying to be kind – refrain from suggesting things they think might be too much for me. Although I understand wanting to be careful, I know my limits better than anyone, and asking me to do something that may tire me or hurt me isn’t something to avoid. I have no problem with declining activities I know will do more harm than good, and I prefer being able to make that decision to it being made for me.

Depression as a result of loneliness is something I constantly fight; I have few friends here, at this point, and Benny has to tend to school and composing/practicing. I try to fight this mostly by having a book on CD to listen to while I’m cooking or cleaning and also by having open house hours when women are welcome to visit me. I desire and need almost constant companionship. I used to think I was a loner, but I’ve found that to be alone is something I don’t actually enjoy unless I’m having personal devotions (although I’m not truly alone then, either :)). When people come visit, I am often thrilled beyond words.

Which brings me to open enthusiasm. Many people think I’m quiet, reserved, and shy. This isn’t so much true as it is true that in public situations I find it difficult to keep from panicking. The way I fight panic (which is something I fight as a socially anxious person) is by mellowing out. People who meet me in the privacy of my home are often surprised by the openness I am comfortable with there. When I’m in my personal space, surroundings which are known, comfortable, and predictable, I am in my element. Especially if Benny is there, I feel safe. Being in public feels incredibly unsafe, no matter how illogical that feeling is, and I tend to reserve all emotions to damper the one which feels most threatening. One of the reasons I encourage people to come visit is because they get to see me at my most comfortable. I avoid anything even remotely resembling a party for this reason and also because I have a hard time concentrating when more than one person is speaking at once. When this happens, my mind is frantic to grasp onto anything, and when my brain is frantic, I can’t concentrate on anything.

One thing about dealing with my brain which is hard for a lot of people to understand is that it doesn’t process things quickly. As a result of this, everything I do has to be thought through. Most people do things mechanically, but it is rare that an action becomes so familiar I can do it without thought. When I’m walking, I move slowly when crossing the street or a lane. When I’m driving, the faster I have to react, the more stressed I am. Getting ready to go anywhere, I stop at the door and think through anything I might have forgotten (to the great frustration and training in patience for my husband). I can have a conversation with a person, but I think through my questions and thoughts more slowly than many, and I rarely speak before knowing exactly how I will say a sentence. Benny has learned to ask: “Are you avoiding the conversation or are you thinking about what to say?” when we’re talking. I may think about a conversation for days or even weeks before I feel as though I’ve full processed everything that was said. People say they hate it when they think of the perfect response a few minutes too late… I usually think of a response whole days later.

There are other things I deal with differently than other people… to mention them all would take far too long. I welcome questions whenever people have them, and few questions do I refuse to answer. To end, I’ll make a short list of things an “outsider” can take from this.

1.      You don’t need to show me kindness by not asking me to do something with you because I might be tired or in pain. I’m always tired and in pain! You can show me kindness by asking and letting me decide, not really caring how I answer.

2.      By the same token, you don’t need to do things for me to help me avoid pain and exhaustion. If I need help, I will admit it when you ask me.

3.      If you really want to know me, visit me in my own home. I love visitors, and when they are in my home, the situation feels far less threatening to me.

4.      Understand that I process things slowly. If I am moving slowly or taking a long time to respond to a question or comment, it isn’t because I’m trying to frustrate you; I move at a different pace.

5.      I need companionship like any person; I just have a limited way of receiving that companionship.

6.      I don’t like idleness, and I don’t coddle myself, but I also am careful where I expend energy. If I save energy by not doing one thing, I can spend it doing something else. This is a matter of survival. This means I will often leave aside things other people see as “correct”. One of the things I don’t expend energy on is open excitement. I’m really and honestly excited in my heart, but the energy open excitement takes isn’t worth wasting.

7.      I choose to live life outside of my chronic illness. It debilitates and frustrates me every single day, but I try to live with an attitude of thankfulness for all I can still do. You can ask me how I’m doing – I’ll be honest if I’m not having a good day – but then I’d rather drop it and talk about better things-like how glad I am you took time out of your day to say hello! 

Clothes to Live On

Recently, when we had a couple sisters come to visit, we had a time when we asked random questions for everyone to answer – as a way to have fun getting to know one another better. One of Benny’s questions was: “If you had several hundred dollars, what would you buy?” I said I would sell all my clothes and buy a new wardrobe – with clothes that actually fit, colours I like, and having fewer actual items but more diversity in types of clothing. I have a specific style I like, though I don’t often dress that way, because I can’t talk myself into buying more clothes when I already have some, even if they don’t fit well or aren’t a style I like.

As often happens, I dwelled on my answer the next day, wondering if it were possible. It occurred to me that it was absolutely possible. For several hours, I sketched out a list I entitled: “Clothes to live on.” In it, I specified exactly what types I would have and in what colour and quantity. Here are a few examples:

5 blouses (white, black, red, brown, navy)

5 skirts (denim, 2 Sunday, white, black)

3 slacks (brown, black, grey)

I was detailed, down to the amount of shoes (5!), keeping a maximum of five in anything, and less than that as much as I could. My aim was to have a basic colour theme, style, and to downsize as much as possible. I was incredibly excited about my list and showed it to Benny, practically gushing about how it would be beneficial, and telling him I planned to actually go through with it. How? By going through everything I owned and keeping only what was on my list. If I didn’t have something, I would keep something close to that with the plan to later replace it with what I actually want. Whenever I buy clothes from now on, they are not being acquired; they are replacing.

Why am I so excited about this? There are several reasons. First, many of the things I have fit me poorly. I’ve lost 50 pounds in the past two years – fourty of that fairly quickly – so much of what I have has been too big and more of a frustration than a help. Second, I don’t like buying things I feel I don’t need. If I get rid of everything I don’t need, I’ll only be buying when I truly need something. This means I’ll be buying less, I won’t feel bad about spending more on good quality, and I’ll only own things I absolutely love. Lastly, I’ve often felt badly for owning things in excess when I know they could be of use to others. When I’m selling or giving away my excess, I’m challenging myself to be less materialistic, and I’m helping other people.

When I told Benny about my plan, he agreed it was a good idea, and he decided to join me! He wrote a separate list of “Clothes to live on,” with effectively the same boundaries I had used. His reasons for wanting to do so were essentially the same as mine, and we both felt it could be a rewarding and freeing endeavour. And perhaps we'll find we can get away with even less (I secretly hope so).

All that said, we’ve already begun sorting through clothes deciding what is worth trying to sell, what to throw away, and what to keep. We also can veto if someone is about to throw something away his/her spouse especially likes to see him/her wearing. Some things are harder to give up than others, but we’re excited to follow through to the end. 

Things I Wish People Had Told Me Before I Married

I will be honest with you; not many people told me things that were actually helpful before I got married. It became really easy to identify who would give me what sort of advice. The ones who had gone through several serious marital (or nearly marital) relationships would “wish me luck” with a sarcasm that said their relationships had been poisonous, so I should expect that too. The ones who had worked through a marriage that was difficult always said that the rose-coloured glasses would come off, and I was in for a rough life. People who were happy in their marriage were most genuine in wishing me a blessed future, usually saying – quite honestly – that marriage is hard, sometimes, but also a great joy. When I married, the advice had been so inconsistent, I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I found that all of the advice and none of it truly applied to us. There were some things, however, that I wished people had told me before I married; since people are marrying every day, I wanted to share these things and hopefully help others either about to be married, new to marriage, or perhaps even wrinkling. The list is, of course, determined by my personal experiences, so it won’t apply exclusively.

1.      People say that if you act in the way you want your partner to act, they will change. I think a lot of women translate this to “if I always serve my husband well in this action, he will serve me well in ____” Sorry. It doesn’t work that way. You have to actually say: “I consider this service to be an equal to this service. Even though it’s hard for me to ____, I do that out of love for you. I know ______ is hard for you, but could you sacrifice a little in honour of mine?” It isn’t selfish to ask for what you want as long as you’re willing to allow your spouse to ask for what he or she wants.

2.      We’ve all heard that we shouldn’t nag and we need to love our spouses in spite of faults, but you occasionally need to lecture each other. You don’t have parents, anymore, who can tell you your motives are off, your actions are childish, or you’re doing something wrong. The hard thing is to choose those lectures well, and I will emphasize the word sparingly. You might only need to say one sentence, depending on how well you phrase and communicate what you’re saying. Make sure you aren’t being accusatory, have the right motives, and be certain that you’re actually pointing out something that will make a permanent difference in your lives. You don’t need to lecture your spouse about not doing the dishes or remembering a promise, because those are temporary and can be fixed gently. You may need to call attention to ways that your spouse handles stress or manipulates you, with or without realizing.

3.      And here’s the one that might make people uncomfortable, but I’m going to say it anyway, because it has been vital to my own marriage and is applicable to all marriages: have sex as often as the spouse with the highest sex drive wants to have sex. Better yet, if one of you feels the inclination, it had better happen. This will be really hard for the person with the lower sex drive. There is no way around it, because you are two people with two different brains and two different bodies. Why do I emphasize this so strongly? Because infidelity is one of the top reasons for divorce. Adultery on the side of the man is a little more complicated than that (my next point), but in general, why shouldn’t you err on the safe side? Paul says people should marry so that they don’t have to “burn with passion” (1 Corinthians 7:9). If your spouse is interested in sex and you say you aren’t interested or you’re tired, they will desire a release elsewhere, even if that wouldn’t be their first inclination. Obviously, the first inclination was to share passion with you! It is a sacrifice, but it’s worth it.

4.      Men aren’t made like women. Relationships to women are permanent, lasting, and are maintained even over long distances. To men, they are temporary, and it’s not so important to keep friends as to have them. When a woman moves from Arkansas to Colorado, she’s going to keep in touch with all her friends and probably make new ones. A guy will just make new friends and often not worry too much about past ones. All this to say: most men aren’t unfaithful because they want to be. Because men and women view relationships so differently, I would imagine that many couples deal with unfaithfulness on some level or other, whether it be looking at pictures of other women, watching pornography, wanting other women (fleetingly or not), or sleeping with them. This is something that women, as wives, teach their husbands – to value the relationship and remember that it is meant to be maintained over time. And they will probably have to do it multiple times. Wives, it is crushing, and it will break your heart, but it isn’t because he doesn’t love you or want you. He just needs to learn to constantly remind himself that he chose you, and by choosing you, he chose to forsake all others. And you can help by reminding him and being understanding and loving when he slips.

There are other things, of course, that have been helpful, such as “Don’t expect your spouse to read your mind.” Oh, yes. I needed that one. Or, my personal favourite: “your spouse will do things that drive you crazy. Get over it.” Essentially, marriage is hard in that people are selfish beings. When you aim to serve your spouse in your marriage, it seems like every hardship is smoothed over as a result of service itself. If something is hard, it’s probably because one of you is holding on to something and refusing to step out of the “safe” or “comfortable” zone. Once you recognize that, you can attack a problem by seeking out whatever may be holding you back and fixing it.

And speaking of service, I should fix my husband’s lunch. 

Sarah Time

When I married Benny, I was prepared for it to be super hard for us to live together - really, really hard. We were both surprised when it felt natural and pleasing to be married and to live together. We’ve speculated as to why this is. Perhaps it was rooted in that we both came from big families and had experience in adapting to living with other people. Our temperaments are both inclined toward solving a problem immediately rather than letting it fester. We both value communicating everything clearly, so even our discussions infringed with disagreement are careful and forgiving. Neither of us enjoy conflict, but we handle it by confronting it rather than avoiding it. For example, this afternoon, I told Benny I didn’t like the way he was handling a specific issue. He was quiet, expressed his anger at what I said while in the same breath admitting that I was right in what I said. That was the end of the conversation, and it is one example of how we consistently approach such problems.

This isn’t to say it’s easy to be married. We have individual and mutual struggles with different aspects of our lives, but the peace with which we handle things dims them significantly. The thing we have struggled with the most is a constant battle for us – face time. This is mostly a problem because we think of it differently. Benny is happy to sit and do homework with me in the room. I need him to talk to me – to give me his undivided attention for it to be valuable and worthy to me. It wasn’t until he started the school year that it became a real problem. I was starving for attention, and it felt selfish to ask him to put aside time to spend with me when he was so busy. When the first trimester ended, I was so relieved I soaked up the month of December like a thirsty plant. When the winter term started, I was depressed and moody, and not really sure why. It finally hit me that I didn’t feel like a priority to Benny, anymore. I told him this, explaining that I felt like I was drowning without his attention. He was gone so much and so busy when he was home, I felt alone even when he was there. Desperate, I begged for half an hour a day of his undivided attention. As soon as he understood why I had been so distant and upset, he apologized and said he would fix the problem. Pulling out his school schedule, he penciled in fourty-five minutes to an hour of “Sarah Time” every day of the week. We never start a minute early and rarely go late, but that time is mine to do with him as I please.

This trimester, I have different “Sarah Time” hours/minutes arranged for every day, but they are some of the most precious minutes of my day. Some people may feel like being in a schedule is offensive, but to me it signifies that I am important enough to my husband that he puts aside everything else to love me with his focus. I’ve also come to realize that, when the rare occasion calls for it, Benny will extend the time as long as I need it. This week, when I felt completely lost, swallowed in sorrow and doubt, he spent an entire evening loving me with his time, never once making me feel guilty for the homework he wasn’t finishing and the class he was missing. Yes, I treasure my “Sarah Time,” and I’m thankful I have a husband who understands why it’s so important.

Confession in the Church and Why It's Important

James 5:16: “Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.”

I’ve been thinking about this verse the past week because of some things going on in my life – mainly because it was brought up during a Bible study. Confessions can be a touchy subject. We would rather not unload all our issues for other Christians to hear, thus maiming our image of perfection. Frankly, I’m not sure we always care to hear about what other Christians are struggling with, either. This is a sad truth, because we are hurting ourselves and one another.

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about confession to a priest. Although there may be a time for that, the verse I referenced is talking about the church as a whole. It also wouldn’t make sense, in terms of being able to pray for one another, to talk about our sins in secret. The whole purpose of confessing to others is so we can say: “Hey, I’ve really struggled with this sin, and it’s making my Christian walk difficult,” and know that not only will our brothers and sisters in Christ pray for us, but they will be there to support and love us. Maybe we could even keep one another better accountable, specifically asking, on a regular basis: “How has your fight against ____ been going?” There are many advantages to this way of communicating sin.

First, it reminds us that we all struggle with things – that we are, in a sense, equal. I remember confessing a sin to Benny, and he was relieved to realize that I wasn’t any more perfect than he was. If we could always see sin as something that everyone deals with, we wouldn't feel so alone.

Second, it doesn’t allow us to hide and bury our sins, which makes us responsible for amending. This is important, because hiding sin is dangerous, even if we confess it to God. Sometimes, we can confess to Him without really having the incentive to change. When we confess aloud to others, it makes us accountable for change.

Lastly, admitting you have a problem is a big part of recovering. I realize that’s a well known idea, but it’s well known because it’s so true. When I confess a struggle, it becomes easier to deal with, because I’m more aware of the ways I struggle and can be more on guard in avoiding them.

What does this mean for me? I wish it meant that the Christians in my life would understand why this is so important and begin gathering for this purpose. I already confess, daily, to my husband, but sometimes I wish I could admit to others the problems I face. It is uplifting to be loved by people despite your faults, and I yearn to share in the struggles of others. Why? Scripture commands this of me, and rightly so.

Galatians 6:2: “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”