The Purity Project of OKC

Masturbation is an act of lust that requires constant feeding of immoral stimuli in direct contradiction to a Christian’s belief system. In the case of Christian sexual addiction, masturbation becomes a part of their day-to-day living. The consequences can make one feel like their soul is rotting from a cancer with nothing more to look forward than more days of masturbation, death, and giving an account to God on how he wasted away his life masturbating.

The immoral “stimuli” is the dealer who makes a junkie and a slave and addict out of a guilt ridden soul. The addict lives each day for a brief rocket ship high that his affliction provides, only to die a little more each day to a slow Hade’s like after-burn.
Each time, and sometimes several times a day, and into the night, he has to top the previous act to get the same rush. He never gets satisfied but hungers for more. All the while, he curses himself for being such a horrible sinner. He begs God for deliverance; and, when God doesn’t, he becomes angry-even though he knows he can’t serve two masters. Deep down he knows who his real master is, who his real god has been. There is the terrifying recruiting trips to the Internet, the video store, the convenient store, that become his inexhaustible library of adultery.

Jack White of “The White Stripes,” in his song, “Icky Thump,” sings, “you can’t be a pimp and a prostitute too.” He’s wrong, you can. Years fly by on the wings of despair and the masturbation keeps one soul depressed, without victory, and useless as a witness or moral example.

Each church sermon on morality feels as if the lighting coordinator has singled him out with a spotlight beam as the pastor perches above him from a lifeguard stand and pours battery acid from a ladle upon his head and screams, “You perverted worthless sinner!” Shame and guilt weigh him down as he trudges through his self-imposed hell. His eyes have lost their light and have become dark and lifeless from the myriad of women objectified on a daily basis. He has become a predator, something like a shark, but he can smell sin from a mile away.

Like an Olympic athlete, he has trained his evil skills as finely as any concert violinist. He is a member of the Carnal Christian Philharmonic, and he plays beautifully-just ask his conductor Lewis. (Lewis something or other. I can’t remember his last name). The guy that sits next to me in the orchestra says the conductor’s last name is Cifer; and, I leave it at that because there is something about him that frightens me. Something about him I don’t trust. I don’t think he is a very nice man. He puts on airs of being nice, like when he asked me to play in the C.C.P. (Carnal Christian Philharmonic). He made me feel special and he was very convincing and very articulate. He is extraordinarily charismatic and the most handsome and impeccably dressed man I’ve ever met, but when you look into his eyes, you can’t look very long because there’s something behind them that’s not natural.

He reminds me of someone my father described once when he was teaching me how to play a defensive back position in football. He said, “Son, a good defensive back must possess three qualities: He must like to hit people. He must like to hurt people, and it helps if he is not quite right in the head.”

TheWriter is a member of the Purity Project of Oklahoma City who loves to write about a variety of subjects.