More Hotels and Porn: When Grace Abounds
“But where sin increased, grace abounded all the more”
Romans 5:20
Last week I shared my struggles with porn and masturbation in hotel rooms in the 1980s and 1990s. This week I’ll share 4 more stories from that time.
When sin increases.
California
I’m alone in a hotel room in California. I’ve fallen hard and binged on porn and masturbation. In a moment of frustration with myself and my inability to say no to lust, I cut the plug off the power cord to the TV with a pocket-knife. “Surely that will keep me away from falling for the rest of the night,” I think. Minutes later I get hit with another tidal wave of lust that flattens me. In my desperation to get the TV working again, I splice the wires of the power cord and insert them into the wall socket. The problem was that I crossed the hot wire with the neutral one, shorted out the entire circuit of my room, and spent the rest of the night and the next morning in darkness. I’m too embarrassed to tell hotel management what happened.
Indianapolis
I’ve binged again. As usual, I’m torn up inside and hate myself. Watching a sexually explicit movie on TV and masturbating to it is humiliating. “Who does that?” I think. I must be some kind of freak. I don’t hear porn or masturbation brought up in church so the only conclusion I can come to is that there’s something seriously wrong with me. Surely others don’t have this problem. I know I’m going to get hit with temptation again and make a vow to God that I will not binge on porn again that night. There, that settles it.
Minutes later I’m hit with another lust assault. I fall and binge again. Now I’ve compounded the shame with the terror of knowing that I’ve played the fool and broken a vow I made to God just moments ago. I want to throw up. Vows are of no use in the battles against the flesh or the enemy. I need something more but don’t know what that is.
When grace abounds.
Chicago
I’ve just arrived in my hotel room. I’m manning a booth for a week-long trade show for the company I work for. I’ve got 7 days in a hotel room, alone, in front of me. I’m dreading all that time in silence, alone every night, with a TV and that stupid cable box on top. I can’t stand silence and having to face my heart. The hours at the show are long I don’t want to be up until 5:00 in the morning binging and wallowing in shame again, especially when I have to constantly engage people with enthusiasm all day long.
I approach the TV. I disconnect the cable box and place it in the drawer of the credenza the TV is sitting on, wires and all. I sleep well that night. Whew! I want the box gone and out of my sight all week, but I know that the women who clean the rooms tend to put everything back together. Before leaving that morning I write a note for the hotel employee who will surely come later:
“Hi. I struggle with watching cable movies that I don’t want to and have put the cable box away in the credenza. I’d like to keep it there all week, if that’s okay.”
That night I’m dreading going back to the hotel room. I expect to see the cable box back on top of the TV. I have visions of a woman thinking I’m some sort of perv, wondering why I just can’t turn the TV off, and calling maintenance to put the cable and TV back together. Instead, I’m surprised to see that the cable box is still out of sight, and the woman who cleaned my room has written this on my note:
“I understand.”
I never met her, but if I did I would have given her a hug. And broke down crying. Whoever you are, thank you.
Another hotel room; which city, I don’t remember.
Another night alone in a hotel. Another binge on porn and masturbation. I turn the TV back on and find a program with Billy Graham speaking. He speaks with passion and authority. I feel like a low-life bottom feeder. A hypocrite. A phone number with an invitation to call for help scrolls across the bottom of the screen. I’m terrified, but I call. A woman answers. Ohhh nooo. Telling a woman I’ve looked at porn is far more humiliating that telling a man, and that’s hard enough. She sounds like she might be somewhere around her 50s. I’m near tears. I tell her I’ve just watched pornographic content and am alone in a hotel room. She is kind, and listens. No calling me a perv or hanging up, which was what I expected. She offers words of encouragement, then prays for me. I’m cherishing every moment. We end the call. I can’t believe what just happened. I’m able to sleep the rest of the night without binging again and am at peace, although I still feel a bit shaky.
We all need Jesus with skin on. Some Christians talk and preach too much. Kindness, listening, and prayer make a huge difference. Don’t go it alone. Most Christians are. You don’t have to.
The apostle Paul wrote about boasting about his weaknesses. In scripture he confessed to struggling with fear and covetousness. He shared his story of when he persecuted the church several times. I encourage you to share your story, including your failures. God shines through the cracks of our lives. You never know when someone might be starving for someone to listen, cry, and pray with them. You can be that person, if pride and protecting your reputation as “The Good Christian” aren’t your first love. Sometimes we do our best preaching just by sharing our failures and sin and how God led us through the trainwreck.
“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
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