PORN AT THE DUMP

I took the recycling to the dump today. It probably could have waited, but due to the recent rain we've received the cardboard was getting soggy, and I thought it would be a good idea to get rid of it before it liquified entirely. So I hooked up the trailer, threw some bags of plastic and tin on top of the cardboard, and drove to the dump. they have two big containers there reserved for recyclable material. One of them is strickly for cardboard and the other one is neatly labeled "MIXED RECYCLING." I took my bags of plastic and tin in both hands and headed over to the container for mixed recyclables.

As I neared the dumpster I noticed a large stack of discarded magazines just inside. I am always on the lookout for cool (free) stuff at the dump, and I was curious what sort of magazines they were. I'm a believer in the old saying, "One man's trash is another's treasure." After throwing my bags noisily against the metal back of the dumpster I walked over to inspect the magazines. Initially, I couldn't make out what they were, but as I picked one up and flipped it over I found myself face to face with a Playboy.

Oh, the ancient siren song of naked ladies! Like David on his rooftop I gazed down at the magazine in my hands. I looked right. I looked left. Nobody around. I looked back down at the magazine and beyond it at the discarded stack. I felt a stirring in the pit of my stomach...something truly indescribable. My mouth went dry and my heart quickened. I could never bring myself to walk into a store and buy porn, but here was a whole stack of it promising anonymity. Nobody would know. Just open it- look inside- take it home and hide it. I felt like an animal.

Like Gollum, I stood holding my "precious"- utterly torn between the flesh and the spirit- my mind a cloudy mess- ambushed.

Somehow, the Spirit clawed His way to the surface of my mind, and allowed me a moment of lucidity wherein I sensed the peril of my position. I felt the weight of God's conviction pressing me down. I tried to suppress it, to tune Him out, but He woud not be denied, He would not be mocked. I could not do this wicked thing and feel right with God. Years ago I had purposed in my heart not to entertain the view of Bathsheba again- not to linger on the rooftop.

I set the magazine down, turned, and walked numbly back to the trailer. I unloaded the soggy cardboard, got back in the Explorer, and drove away.

As I drove home I thought about my kids. What kind of men did I want Bowden and Jack to grow up to be? ...and how could I impart to them what is not patterned in my life? I must be the man I want them to be. I must be the man I want Lucy to marry.