Irresistible Doom

When once confident eyes scream “Help me!”

About nine years ago, my daughter sent me a brief text, “I’m thinking about getting a puppy.” Knowing her nonstop college lifestyle, I immediately replied, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Three minutes later she sent a photo of “Carter” chewing a new toy on her bed. You parents know where this story goes. Carter now lives with us.

Of course, we have another dog, Jake, who is the apple of my wife’s eye. From a distance, Carter and Jake look to be of similar size. But only from a distance, and all similarities end there. The vet says that Carter is a Staffordshire. If that leaves you as clueless as it did me, envision a cross between a boxer and a pit-bull. Better yet, envision a canine version of Mike Tyson. Carter is all muscle. He’s effortlessly intimidating. Carter has that muscled up old man whatever-it-takes look, that says “You think I’m past my prime? Try me.”

On the other hand, Jake is more of a canine version of Barney Fife. He’s a long, lanky chocolate Lab. He’s a bit spastic, and anything but intimidating. He loves everyone, seldom barks, and has the kind of soft mouth and grip that every duck hunter appreciates.

There is another difference. Carter was neutered as a puppy. He’s a eunuch, who seems to have no natural urges. Though four-year-old unneutered Jake has longings he doesn’t know how to fulfill. Most days, this difference goes unnoticed. Then every few weeks, a neighborhood dog will go into heat and the scent of her hormones waft across our backyard, leaving Carter unaffected and blissfully unaware, and transforming Jake into a wild-eyed, whining, pacing, irrational, passion-filled, procreating machine. Like a drunken sailor at closing time, Jake gets ten feet tall and laser-focused on the one possibility in the room – Carter. Did I mention irrational?

When Barney Fife seeks to sexually assault Mike Tyson, things get ugly – QUICKLY. Each time, it goes something like this:

Carter is standing squarely under a tree, blood pressure rising, as the squirrel, that he just knew he’d catch, twitches its tail in defiance from eight feet overhead. Then Jake, who’s been waiting on just the right moment, decides this is it. From his perspective, with the sunlight streaming through the branches, Carter must look like a rejected First Runner-up in the Miss America Pageant, and Jake truly believes he has just what Carter needs to cheer him up. With no hesitation, Jake confidently strolls over to Carter and seeks to secure his bloodline. Did I mention how quickly it gets ugly? Carter has about as much patience with such flagrant disrespect as Mike Tyson would in a similar situation. Within seconds, there’s a mash-up of snarling, snapping, whirling, saliva-slinging, yelping, grass flinging, thrashing that always ends the same – with Carter’s square jaws firmly locked on Jake’s long, lanky neck, and Jake’s eyes screaming “HELP ME.”

Jake dares not move. He knows he can’t escape. So, I, shovel in hand, separate them, knowing that the faintest whiff of female hormones will soon completely erase Jake’s memory and lead our confident Barney right back into this precarious predicament.  

One could quickly assess the stupidity or primitive nature of my dog. I’m not offended. I’ve certainly rolled my eyes and shook my head as I watch this repetitive scene. Someone else may decide that I’m a terrible dog owner, and that I should keep them separated so this doesn’t happen. While I do make efforts to separate them once this starts, I’ll remind you that I can’t detect the hormones that trigger this behavior, and therefore can’t predict when their typical easy-going friendship is going to explode into a sexually charged, life-threatening brawl.

But this story is not simply about canine instincts. I’ve seen those same fearful eyes screaming, “HELP ME,” from dozens of men and women clinched in the jaws of sexual sin. I’ve listened to the tales of irresistible temptation, unexpected opportunities, poor decisions, sexual tension, and instinctual attraction. I’ve believed them as they described confidently miscalculating risks, being certain of what they were doing, and their complete failure to consider consequences. I’ve heard their stories of getting caught, suffering immensely, trying to stop, then being drawn, like a moth to a flame, right back to the source of their turmoil.

There is a reason why there is only one sin that the Bible tells us to flee. Perhaps no sin is greater or worse than another. But some are more prevalent than others. Maybe they tap into a deeper instinctive yearning. If that’s true, our enemy knows, sets traps, and continually dangles the bait before us, fanning the scent across our path, while longing to find us gripped by our jugulars. When the Apostle Paul writes, “Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body,” it’s the only time in Scripture that we’re told to run from anything.

Years of relationship counseling have taught me that when we allow ourselves the pleasure of lust (sexually considering someone other than one’s spouse), it quickly binds us and drags us into situations as hopeless as Jake’s. It may take time. Certainly, one can view pornography or even engage in an affair for years without getting caught. But don’t mistake absolute consequences with the possibility of getting caught. While there are potential consequences to having your sin exposed, there are absolute consequences to keeping it secret. You’ll never live your best life in the bondage of sexual sin. You can pretend, but the best a person living in the bondage of secret sin can have is fake freedom, and the only peace and joy that come with fake freedom is fake peace and fake joy. Overtime, fake peace and fake joy erode every relationship, leaving us feeling hollow, shameful, dirty, and unable to give or receive real love.

Don’t you want more? You don’t have to keep returning to the bait. In Matthew 19:26, Jesus tells us that what is impossible for us is possible with God. Don’t waste your life pretending. Confess to God. Trust him. Seek help. Know forgiveness. Overcome. Find freedom. Enjoy the fullness of life and relationships without pretending.