“Is he going there?” I thought. “Are there men here in the Sunday gathering (myself included) poised in this moment to witness the unveiling of a familiar elephant in the room?”
As with fingers at a dimmer switch, the pastor was advancing the dial. In the moments following, Roger sensitively and with great compassion teamed with the Holy Spirit in lifting the lights. Illumining a pathway in the recesses of some troubled minds.
A while back I had glimpsed a flicker of hope through my counsellor-friend Steve. He had graciously labored to assure me that I was not alone, that I did not have a corner on struggles over impure thoughts and lust. Now, taking in today’s account of a fellow brother in the faith – of his struggles and his ongoing pilgrimage into wholeness – I sensed a rare, near-tangible assurance . Could far better days lie ahead?
The era of my growing-up years – the 1950s and 60s – were those in the cultural landscape marked by imperfect ideals and role models, like the ‘strong, silent male’.
While the ‘strong’ piece of that phrase might have been in question concerning some, the ‘silent’ ingredient among men was often palpable.
It might have been normal to wax eloquent over Gurnsey prices down at the local livestock yard or contesting the preferred mode of transport (Chevy vs Ford), or debating which team in a league would make the World Series cut. But confiding about personal topics – struggles over addictive behaviors and so forth – was a practice entered into rarely indeed.
Thus, I had deduced from a young age, it was best keeping my personal concerns – disturbing as some might be – close to my chest. Better to trudge forward in the company of secrets than of shame.
©2024 Jerry Lout