A young man bound by pornography found freedom through the Cross of Christ, with a lot of help from others.
In 1988, my mother traveled to the Marshall Islands where she found my brother and sisters and me as orphans, and adopted us. Growing up with no father, or any other male role model, I felt lost as a boy but tried to blend in with the people around me. Unlike my brother, I loved the arts: musicals, plays, painting, chorus, and band. My brother enjoyed paintball, basketball, and baseball.
I longed for acceptance and wished I was like him, but felt rejected as he and his friends picked on me and called me names. I tried to act tough, but for most of my life, I was intimidated by guys and could never seem to relate. Most of my friends were girls, so in high school I played it off as if I were a ladies' man.
I lived a relatively normal childhood until a friend came to visit one night. He decided that, at age ten, I was old enough to hear everything he knew about masturbation, pornography, and sex. I felt awkward but enjoyed the attention. What we were doing seemed normal, but I realized that no one else was showing me these things.
I began to escape these conflicting inner thoughts through looking at pornography. I was amazed at how easy it was to find porn with the click of a mouse. I learned how to cover my tracks and didn’t worry about getting caught. My focus quickly shifted from women to men, and my attractions quickly went from jealousy to lust and fantasy. I wanted to be held, to be loved, to be sought after.
One night, my mom caught me looking at porn. Immediately, she took away the computer. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in front of a preacher. He said, "What you are doing is not natural. It’s wrong and a sin against God. If you just stop looking at this mess, then it will soon go away." Well, that was no help. I had tried to stop so many times, but the two years of pornographic images were firmly ingrained in my mind. It did not go away just by “stopping it”.
I cried as I lay in bed many nights wanting nothing more than to stop. I could see how all of this was affecting my relationship with my mom and my family. I hated hurting her; after all, she was the one who loved me and saved me when I was a malnourished orphan. Now, she was trying to save me from myself. I owed her my life.
I thought I was the only one in the world who was struggling this way. I was starting to believe that I would always be addicted to porn, and that I was gay.
Mom continued to look for help and eventually found Truth Ministry. She spoke with McKrae and wanted me to meet him. Reluctantly, I agreed and drove over two hours to get to his office. I sat across from McKrae and didn’t say a word while he told me his story. I was relieved; there was someone else who understood me, someone who had gone through some of the same things I had.
My mom drove me to Spartanburg as often as possible, and attended Truth’s family group, while I attended Truth’s group for young men who struggled with homosexuality. I was scared to death at the first meeting. For the first time ever, I was going to tell more than one person my story. I remember stammering through it and told them that they couldn’t understand. But, as I heard their stories one by one, I realized I was wrong: they were very much like me.
I soon became more comfortable with McKrae and the guys in the group, and could tell them what was going on in my life. Unfortunately, I was still living a double life. In group, I acted as if I was now living for Christ and had it all together. What they didn’t know was that I was still having sex with girls and lying awake at night fantasizing about men.
To others, I seemed to be moving forward, but I was actually continuing to self-destruct while keeping everyone at arm’s length. At my church, I was very active in the youth group, even leading worship for the group. Living this double life was tiring.
After high school, I enrolled at Georgia Southern University. I thought I would surely be able to handle issues better there, but was quickly swallowed up by all the attention from newfound friends. Finally, I was receiving the attention that I longed for, because I am was going to college parties and drinking like one of the guys. That started my addiction to social events and alcohol.
Soon, I joined a music fraternity thinking that if I could just have one healthy male relationship, life would get better. Unfortunately, it just made matters worse. There were a couple of openly gay guys in the fraternity, and through this new avenue, I began to experiment sexually with guys.
I would often isolate myself and cry for hours. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I didn’t want it to end. I felt somehow safe in the arms of another man.
At the beginning of the next semester, I ended up in jail for two weeks in a cold metal bed, eating bad food, and having no privacy. I was anxious because school started while I was in jail. I asked God for forgiveness and made a promise to live for Him if He would get me out. A week later, I was released. Since I wasn’t able to enroll in school, I made a deal with my mom in order to stay in Statesboro. I would get a job to pay my rent and all my expenses.
After looking for a job for just two days, I gave up. I spent what money I had on two months’ rent, food, and alcohol. I began stealing from my roommates and my fraternity brothers. I looked at porn online for hours and used my roommate’s credit card to finance it all.
I was fed up with my life and wanted it to end. One night, I came home drunk and cried out to God telling Him to send someone to help me if He wanted me to get better. I just couldn’t do it alone anymore.
At nine o’clock the next morning, McKrae and Michael Harris, another ministry leader, showed up on my doorstep in Statesboro. They made the four-hour drive, because McKrae had heard how I was struggling and felt the Lord prompting him to talk with me.
As we sat on the front pouch talking, he asked me one simple question, “Will you let me help you?”
One by one, tears began to fall. All I could do was nod my head.
He said, “Okay, this is what “yes” means. This morning, we are going to help you pack everything you own, and you are going to come back to Spartanburg with us. We are going to help you figure this out and help you decide what the next step is.”
I knew I had to leave but I didn’t really want to. With help from Michael and McKrae, I packed up my room and loaded it into McKrae’s car.
Truth Ministry does not have a live-in program, so for the next few weeks, I stayed with McKrae’s mom and stepfather who welcomed me into their home with open arms.
During my time there, McKrae counseled me, and I participated in Living Waters. Then, he said I should consider going to a Christ-centered rehabilitation center in Georgia, called HopeQuest. I prayed about it, and God answered. I stayed in Spartanburg until I was accepted into the program.
I spent Christmas and New Year’s Day with my family, but on the January 3, I was on my way to Woodstock, Georgia. I was apprehensive about the decision, but there was no turning back. I asked McKrae if he would drive down with Mom and me, and he agreed.
I spent about four and a half months there, and I am so thankful to God for the opportunity. I learned much about the affects of my childhood and my addictions. I began to build my relationship with Christ, reading the Bible, and understanding God and His plan for me. I realized that I’ve never been alone and I’ve never gone a day without being loved. I came to terms with the fact that I never knew my earthly father, but God is the Father of my life, and He will never fail me.
After returning from HopeQuest, I found out about a Celebrate Recovery group that meets at my church. I needed help continuing my journey. It has been a God-send for me. After going a couple of weeks, I felt safe to express myself once again. I was able to be me with no masks and no pretending to be someone I’m not.
I am Lucas Walsh, a child of God, broken and wounded, in the care of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior. |
