Free At Last, I Am Free At Last

I was told love is the cure, that all I must do to find freedom from my bonds, my chains to "the habit" was to fall in love. To direct oneself outward, the easiest path is to fall in love with another person, be in relationship. I heard this from a friend who heard it from a priest. But we hear it all the time from the world-- love (in the shadow of lust and infatuation) is the cure to any problem you might have and it only has to be love a little bit. I'm sure the priest was well-intentioned and now I can see the higher wisdom in his words, but falling in love was not the cure to my addiction.

Love was the problem. Not because I could not "fall in love" (some friends described me as boy-crazy), not because I did not desire that, and not because I was not in love with the Lord. Contrarily, it was love of the Lord that brought me to this place of desiring to destroy this addiction and sin in my life. No, the problem of love was that I did not believe I was lovable. I did not believe I was beautiful or could be loved. And that fueled the infinite, fiery pit of addiction in my soul.

Only someone infinite could extinguish that hell and fill me.

Love was the answer. Not love for or from the Lord or another person, but self-love. I could list every minute problem, weakness, and failing I had, I could come up with every reason possible why I was not lovable or beautiful. It took Infinite Love for me to realize that it was not He who did not love me, but me who did not love me. I gazed upon the Crucifix like Mary Magdalen gazed upon Christ when caught in adultery and felt how she felt-- Love was standing before me, forgiving me, inviting me deeper, and I had one choice left, whether or not to forgive myself. The Magdalen followed Christ the rest of her days, even following Him to the Cross because she found she could not remain unforgiving to herself when so infinite a mercy was being poured out upon her. In a moment that can only be described as the Divine rushing wind in the small whisper of the Holy Spirit, I said, "Theresa, I forgive you for being too weak to stop masturbating."

Love is still the answer. Even though I have fallen in love and married a wonderfully godly man, my struggles have not magically left me. Those envious, parasitic temptations still vie for a place in my soul to dwell, but I recognize them now. I see them as they are now and I see me as I am-- Theresa, fallen yet good.

The chorus of "Martyrs and Thieves" (by Jennifer Knapp) begins:

So turn on the light and reveal all the glory

I am not afraid

To bear all my weakness, knowing in meekness

I have a kingdom to gain

I am a slave to sin nor to my own mercilessness anymore. I am free. And I am running and fighting, inching however slowly towards that Kingdom. I have left my chains and old ways behind.

Begging for Life like Mary Magdalen: Lenten Post 1

It was Fall 2004 at Franciscan University of Steubenville. Jenn and I were attending a women's seminar on sexuality. A lady began talking about her experience with masturbation and not only did I connect, but I felt like she was reading my soul. I was shocked at her accuracy for things I did not even know how to articulate. That is the plight of 19-- lots of words and feelings but little understanding and articulation. The lady finished and we were given a ten minute break. Jenn and I walked to the restroom, but I waited outside for her. I leaned against the wall trying to take in what I heard and was experiencing. Jenn walked out and looked concerned. I must have been in a daze. She asked if I was alright. I opened my mouth and what came out in a whisper was a roar from deep inside of me, from something that I did not know existed in me: I didn't know I hurt so much. I could not stop repeating it; tears slowly began to roll down my cheeks. Poor Jenn, she did not know what to do, so she fond one of the evening's coordinators, Dr. Storm. Trulie talked about her but this is how Storm and I met. I could not say my name, nothing except that declaration of my being. I new masturbation was wrong, I knew it hindered my relationship with God, I knew that I had struggled with it for all of my life that I could remember, but I did not know the damage it was doing to me, did not know the wound that started or perpetuated it. I began that self-discovery and healing that night, a journey that would culminate a little more than a year later, a journey that still takes places today, little by little, day by day.