I saw these stats on infidelity and thought they were interesting. Sadly, I thought that some of them looked a little low.

The section on why people have affairs really struck me. If these studies are accurate, it appears that men have affairs for physical reasons, whereas women have them for more emotional, intimacy-related reasons. The reasons for men are; 44% want sex more often and 40% want variety in their sexual partner. The three reasons listed for women are: 40% want more emotional attention, 33% want to be reassured that they’re still desirable, and 11% cheat for revenge.

As wives of men addicted to sex and/or pornography, we are susceptible to these three things. We often feel emotionally isolated, undesirable, and angry (even to the point of wanting revenge) as a result of our husbands’ addictions. These feelings can lead to fantasizing about old boyfriends, coworkers, or friends from church. The fantasies may not be sexual but more commonly are about having what we’ve idealized as the perfect relationship. What may seem like harmless, secret fantasies are actually a slippery slope to adultery.

James 1:14-15: ”But each one is tempted when he is carried away and enticed by his own lust. Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death.”

Wives, we may have been hurt and we may be very, very angry, but we must always guard our hearts and walk in His righteousness.

Which of these stats do you find most shocking? What advice to you have for affair proofing your marriage?

We’ll also be joined by our friends at Covenant Eyes who will be offering some Christian based solutions for internet safety, accountability, and filtering.

If you’re wondering what Convergence is, here is some info from the website:

When the deepest and most relevant issues of life become the elephant in the “church room,” people suffer in silence, feel alone, and entertain sin. Yet this was never Jesus’ plan for his people. Rather, Jesus has called Christians to journey with one another as we center our lives on Him.

Whether directly or indirectly, sexual sin has impacted your life or the life of someone you know. Drawing from their own personal testimonies, Nicole Wick and Crystal Renaud will share their stories of Christ’s victory in their lives, as well as how an environment of honesty, compassion, and love creates an atmosphere for support and healing.

Obviously this event is designed for women who have a history of sexual sin or abuse, or for wives who have a husband who has struggled with sexual sin. If that isn’t you, I bet you’re wondering if this conference is for you. Here is a brief list of other people that I think should attend this event:

• Women who are married
• Women who hope to someday be married
• Women who parent small children
• Women who parent teen children
• Women who parent adult children
• Women who have internet access in their homes
• Women who have (or whose husbands have) internet access at their jobs
• Women who own a television (especially cable television)
• Women who have any of the following delivered to them or their husband: Playboy, Penthouse, Victoria’s Secret catalog, Maxim, the Target Sunday circular, the JCPenny catalog, Sports Illustrated…
• Women who have a smart phone or iPhone
• Women who have a husband or child that owns a smart phone or iPhone
• Women who are involved in a church, small group, or women’s ministry, and as a result may encounter other women who need support in this area
• Women who are involved in youth or children’s ministry and may encounter teens or pre-teens struggling in this area
• Women who have friend, family member, or co worker who may be struggling with a secret sexual sin personally or in their marriage

If you fit one or more of these, you should seriously consider attending Convergence. I hope to see you there!

I’m honored to be facilitating a workshop at this years Idea Camp in Las Vegas. This year’s conference topic is sex. Here is the general topic info from the conference website:

In a culture formed and broken by tainted views of human sexuality, what should followers of Christ embody?

Join us for a fresh, honest and transformative conversation with leading thinkers on topics including sexual identity, orientation, abuse, gender perceptions, porn, marriage, family, prostitution, and slavery.

The issues related to human sexuality are too often misunderstood, ignored, or avoided in far too many churches. The Idea Camp will facilitate a safe and transparent environment of learning, sharing of insights from the respective fields of focus, and practical insights and examples of holistic care.

Let’s see sexuality for what it was meant to be.

I love that. I love that we are planning a gathering where we can come together as the body of Christ and have conversations about sex and sexuality within a Christ-centered framework. I love that we are going to talk about things that affect the body of Christ in deep, meaningful ways, yet are often ignored (or at the very least misunderstood) in many church circles.

I’ll be leading a workshop that pulls wisdom and hope from the scriptures as well as my personal experience sorting through sexual struggles (the good, the bad, and the churchy) within the church community. My hope is that this workshop will provide an opportunity for church leaders and idea makers to discuss ways that the church can support members who struggle with sexual sin, or the temptation of sexual sin, without shame and condemnation. My hope is that our discussion will help us better understand how to build a church community grounded in the principles of confession, community, repentance, and hope.

If you would like to particiate in this year’s Idea Camp you can register HERE. Use the cupon code ICFRIEND for 10% off your conference registration.

Here’s where I need your help. I’m putting the finishing touches on my workshop and would love your input and ideas. (After all, it’s Idea Camp, right!?)

What is one aspect of healing communities and/or redemption from sexual sin that this workshop MUST address?

If you have ever struggled with sexual sin (or know someone who has), what is the one thing that your church did well or that you wish your church had done?

I just found out that my friend Crystal’s interview is now available (mine will be up later this year). I’m honored to serve on the board of directors for her non-profit, Dirty Girls Ministries. More than that I’m honored to be her friend. We talk a lot on this blog about being real and sharing our stories. I think this clip of Crystal sharing about her struggle with porn addiction is the epitome of what being real means. Yeah, I love this girl.

If you are interested in getting real and hearing more of my and Crystal’s stories, she and I will be speaking together in the Detroit area on September 25 (more details to come) and in Las Vegas at the Idea Camp on September 27 and 28. We would love to see you at either event!

Crystal Renaud from Scratching the Surface on Vimeo.

Do you think that the church is getting real about porn? What other issues does the church need to get real about?

Thank you!

Here’s the comment I left on his post:

Good, good, good, good post. There is something to be said for living in the struggle. It frustrates me that we focus on celebrating those who claim to no longer struggle. You know the stories: “I used to be an alcoholic but God released me and I have never wanted to drink again.” Those are the kinds of things I hear from “platform testimonies” all the time.
I’m not saying that those stories are bad. And they certainly glorify God, but the stories about living in the struggle glorify God, too. A lot.
There is something remarkable to be said for surrendering to the same struggle. Every. Single. Day. Over and over again, submitting to the process, and humbly accepting God’s grace.
Just for today.
While a healing miracle where God has totally delivered someone is amazing, it is also rare. We need to communicate to the church that it is ok to struggle. There is no shame in it. And that there is great power in inviting God into the dark place of your weakness on a daily basis.
There, now you have the Cliff’s Notes version of what I share when I speak (or at least part of it) ;)

Sometimes I get the feeling that we’ve worn out the term “authentic.” People accuse me of being authentic all the time. Why? Because I’ve given my story a voice. We all have stories. All of us. Why aren’t we all sharing them? Why aren’t we all being “authentic,” or honest, or real, or whatever?

I think the answer to that question is that, sadly, a vast majority of the Christian community still thinks that we need to strive toward perfection, or that at the very least we need to have achieved some sort of mastery over our issue (our addiction, broken marriage, wayward kid, or whatever) before we can give it a voice. We need to be on the other side before we can share our story.

If that’s the case, let me be the first to tell you that’s a bunch of crap.

And for anyone who has thought that my “authenticity” means that I have figured it out, let me reassure you that I am a hot, hot mess.

There’s a recovery slogan that I love: “progress not perfection.” Isn’t that what we should be striving for? Progress on this crazy journey. Progress toward a greater understanding of and relationship with God. Progress toward reconciliation with Christ and with people. Progress toward redemption through our salvation.

When did the expectation become perfection?

I should note that this isn’t just specific to recovery testimonies. I’ve sat through countless testimonies about how accepting Jesus turned someone’s life into a country and western song in reverse. Or about how someone started tithing and their financial worries were eliminated. Again, those stories are amazing, but sharing only those stories can create the expectation that those who have “arrived” no longer struggle.

The church needs more people willing to share their PRESENT tense stories. We need to remember that 99.9% of the time, God’s answer doesn’t take the form of an instant healing miracle (although I wish it would). More often than not, the process is the miracle. It’s about making progress, not achieving perfection. It’s about grace.

Are you striving toward progress or are you insisting on perfection? Are you sharing your present tense stories?

Words have power. When words are overused, or misused, they can lose their power.

Charles Manson (yes, the Helter Skelter guy) once said:

“You know, a long time ago, being crazy meant something. Nowadays, everybody’s crazy.”

While I know that this guy is totally delusional, he has a point: too much of something can dilute it. And I think that happens sometimes in Christian circles. We create and overuse jargon that gets old, is often misused, and over time loses its potency.

“Fellowship” is one of those words to me. The church is the only place where I’ve ever heard “hanging out” referred to as “fellowship.” And while I’m sure that term was adopted to represent belonging and gathering together in community, over time it has become overused. Now when I hear someone suggest we enjoy some good “fellowship,” I think of mayonnaise-y casseroles and fruited jello molds. And my first inclination is to run away.

Sometimes I wonder if the word “missional” is falling into the overused category (and I sincerely hope it isn’t). It seems to me that being a Missional Church used to really mean something. Something big. Something new. Something Jesus-like. Nowadays it seems like everybody is missional. I hear that buzzword a lot. And it doesn’t always mean the same things anymore. Sometimes it does. Other times it only means that the pastor wears cool vintage t-shirts and boot cut jeans.

And my latest concern is about the word “accountability.” I recently wrote about it on my XXXChurch blog and have been considering the idea of it becoming tired and overused church jargon ever since.

“Accountability” is one of those words that should always mean something. It’s also one of those things that it is incredibly difficult to bring meaning to. Accountability is uncomfortable. It’s something that we naturally shy away from. In the XXXChurch post, I wrote that accountability means,

“that  you are willing to release control and submit to the process. It also means that you are willing to confront difficult situations and have the courage to say the right thing even when it hurts. And it means having the discipline and discernment to preserve the relationship during those difficult conversations by balancing the truth with love.”

True accountability isn’t easy. It asks that you give as much as you receive. And because accountability is tough (and risky), I think it might be losing some of its steam. I would hate to see accountability in the church become about workbooks, DVD studies, pickup basketball games, or weekly gatherings where 20 guys pretend that they all read chapter 4 of “Wild at Heart.”

I hope that we aren’t heading toward the day when “accountability” used to mean something.

What other churchy words have become overused or have lost some of their meaning?

What do you think accountability in the church should look like? Is it important?

I was reminded about this post when I was talking with a friend the other day. It originally appeared a month or so ago on my XXXChurch blog. I thought it would be nice to post it here as a reminder that sexy is a state of mind.

I was five months pregnant when I discovered that my husband was viewing pornography. Many women assume that their husband’s relationship with porn has something to do with the way that they look. This was especially true for me. It was impossible for me to compete with the models featured in adult videos and magazines. Especially during pregnancy. I convinced myself that he wanted to look at these women because he wasn’t satisfied with me or my appearance.

I was devastated.

Before I learned about his addiction I had been very comfortable with my body and who I was. Knowing that my husband had looked at images of hundreds of other women changed that for me. I became almost obsessively self conscious with my appearance. This continued even after our son was born. I did some incredibly unhealthy things in an effort to return to my pre-pregnancy weight but no matter how many pounds I shed I still felt awful about myself. I have never felt so unattractive in all of my life. Ever.

For me sex appeal became strictly physical.

In reality sex appeal is just as much (if not more) a state of mind as it is a product of physical appearance. Even if I had been able to instantly lose all of the baby weight, and added about four inches to my legs, I never would have felt good about myself at that time. I certainly can’t image that I would have felt sexy.

Feeling sexy is a state of mind.

Song of Songs is such a passionate book in the Bible. It’s all about a young couple pursuing each other in their courtship. This couple is incredibly attracted to each other. And even though the woman isn’t satisfied with her physical appearance (Song of Songs 1:1:5,6) she feels attractive. Her relationship with her Lover is one where she is pursued, esteemed, and nourished. Within the safety of that relationship she feels sexy despite her physical imperfections.

When my husband and I began seriously pursuing recovery and restoring our marriage the image that I had of myself was restored as well. As my husband began to heal and he became more affirming of me that level of comfort with myself began to increase even more. I started to feel ok with who I was. And even though I never got back to into the jeans I wore before I had our children, I started to believe that I could feel attractive again.

Sexy is my current state of mind.

How much of sex appeal is physical and how much is mental? Is it different for women and men?

J. D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye is one of the greatest American novels of all time. Holden, the teenage character at the heart of this story, is struggling with life, and change, and people, and growing up. In the book he describes this dream to his little sister, Phoebe.

I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going. I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I’d do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.

If you have ever loved an addict you know what it feels like to be a catcher in the rye. You know what it feels like to have a bunch of people running around you; spouse, kids, extended family members, coworkers, friends – what feels like thousands of people playing near a big, crazy cliff. You know what it feels like to think your job is to catch anyone or anything that may fall over the edge.

You know what it’s like to believe that you are responsible for other people’s behavior.

And if you’ve ever loved an addict you also know that recovery is a very delicate, fragile thing. It’s a process with ups and downs and good days and bad days. We’ve had some bad days over the past few weeks. The kind of days that make you reexamine priorities and decisions. The kind of days that can make you second guess yourself (and maybe even lose faith if you aren’t careful). I have watched my husband move to the edge of the cliff. And I have watched him make his way back.

For me, these are the days when I find myself standing in the rye once again.

I talk a lot about my recovery from codependency and the freedom that comes when you no longer feel the burden to catch someone going over a cliff. Standing in the rye puts that to the test. It is really, really hard to watch someone you love dance near the edge and have to resist the urge to do things that you think will guard him from it. It’s hard for me to watch my husband struggle with limits and boundaries, to see him lose his balance. It’s especially hard to watch someone you love fall. But, it’s been incredibly refreshing for me to know that I’m not responsible for what someone else does. I am only responsible for me.

It’s freeing to know that no matter how close to the edge my husband gets, I will be ok.

So, all that to say that this is my first post in nearly a month. If you’ve been wondering where in the heck I’ve been, well… we’ve been in the rye. And now we’re both back.

P.S. Thanks for all of the prayers from those who knew what was up.

P.P.S. Is it totally narcissistic of me to think that anyone noticed I wasn’t blogging? Yeah… I though so.

If you missed it, I had the honor of guest posting on my friend Adam’s (@jackalopekid) blog a little while ago. Here is the post that I shared.

We all have a story. I do, you do, my weird neighbor who shovels the snow off of his lawn does – we all have a story. I’m a storyteller and a story lover. I didn’t used to be. I thought that my story was dark and ugly. It scared me and made me think of cold nights and loneliness. I never believed that it was a story worth sharing. Who would want to hear it? Not only did it scare me, but I was sure it would scare others too. Rather than share my real story, my authentic story, I recreated one that I thought people would like better. One that would make people like me better. I became a living, breathing, in the flesh Pick-A-Path book.

Do you remember those? Each story had multiple endings, and the outcome of the story depended on the decisions that you chose for the main character at different points in the book. I loved them. As I moved through my young adult life I would pause at all of my critical decision points trying to decide which path to take. Should I be true to myself and the life, family, and circumstances that God had given me? Or should I pick a different path – an alternate ending? The choice was usually quite simple: I wanted a different story. Frankly, I wanted someone else’s story, and at each of those decision points I would hold my breath, turn the page and step away from my adventure and into my fantasy. In the fantasy, I would be the perfect wife, the perfect mom, and the perfect woman in the perfect church. I picked the path that would allow me to hide orphanhood, abandonment, addiction, abuse and all of the other parts of my story that I believed were ugly and unflattering. I picked all of the outward adornments that I thought would make my story look beautiful – braided hair, gold jewelry, and fine clothes were my path (1 Peter 3:4).

Somewhere along the way, my perception of my story changed. It wasn’t the result of an altar call or flashing lights or tragedy. I think it was just the stuff of life — the process, if you will. Other authentic people started sharing their lives with me, and the paths they picked — paths full of hurt, misery, restoration, and rejoicing — weren’t ugly or scary. They were vibrant and beautiful narratives that made my fake, paper doll life look flat and boring. Then my story started to change and become re-formed. I started to see what the Spirt could do in authentic community. It changes lives and gives voice to our stories.

1 Corinthians 4:7 is such a well-known verse. In the NIV it says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all surpassing power comes from God and not from us.” In the Message it says, “If you look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us.”

There is no power in my gaudy, self-adorned, made up story. But my unadorned clay pot tells the story of an ordinary life that has experienced tragedy and pain and has received forgiveness and hope from an incomparable, all surpassing, powerful God. I’ve come to understand that the dusty, dirty, broken clay jar path is much more beautiful than any other path I could have ever taken. I’m so grateful to be on this journey, this authentic adventure, in this old, broken down vessel. And I pray that you will see the beauty in your clay pot story too.

I posted this on the XXXChurch wives blog this week but thought it would be nice to include it here also. Even though I share my thoughts on John 15:13 from the perspective of addiction and recovery I think that the application is just as true regardless of your specific situation.

Sometimes I worry that the church is not as accepting of difficult situations as we should be. I’ve met countless people who have felt like they could never share their personal struggles, addiction or otherwise, with their church family out of shame. They have the impression that they need to appear “put together” when they are at church. It becomes almost like having a double like. That was me. If that’s you too, I hope you read this and change your perspective a little bit.

It has become so common for me to read many responses to a blog post of mine from women who feel that they are unable to share the struggle of their husband’s addiction with another trusted friend. I experienced the same feeling when my husband’s addiction was first made known to me. I had many reasons for wanting to keep this a secret. I didn’t think others would understand; I didn’t want to “out” him to our friends and church community; I thought we could handle it on our own. The list goes on and on. I’m not sure why some of the women who have left comments want to keep this a secret, but I would bet that some of their reasons are similar to mine.

If you are one of those women, I want you to know that keeping this secret was one of the most damaging things I could do to myself, my husband, and my relationship with God. Releasing that secret, bringing what was in the dark into the light, was one of the best things we have ever done.

When all of the details of his addiction became known I went through an intense grief process. I experienced denial and isolation, anger, a bargaining stage (both with God and my husband), depression, and eventually acceptance of the truth. All of the stages of grief were there as if someone had died. In fact, something had died. We lost the ideal marriage that we had both wanted. We lost trust and intimacy. And we lost the image that we had created of each other: the perfect husband and the perfect wife. Handling this intense grief by myself was one of the most difficult things in the world for me. I was so lost in my shame, in my husband’s shame, that my goal was to never tell anyone. If the “ideal” was shattered for us, I wanted to at least preserve it for others. I didn’t want anyone to know that we weren’t the perfect little family everyone thought we were, so we agreed to keep all of these painful confessions a secret. We wouldn’t tell anyone, and we would work on it together with me as the accountability partner and him as the dutiful little patient. We had our roles and the script was simple: look good at all costs to all people. We didn’t include others, and we didn’t include God. We had it all figured out…until it happened again.

At the point that I found out he was once again hiding an active addiction from me, I was devastated. The second time the grief was so severe that I had to tell someone. I started attending a few 12 Step group meetings, if for no other reason than their anonymity. As I attended these groups and met others who were in similar situations, I became more comfortable telling my story. It took several months of hearing myself share my story out loud before I could share it with someone I knew. When I found the courage to share with a few close friends, it felt like an instant release. They were loving and caring as they walked through my grief with me. I was no longer alone.

John 15:13 reads: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”.

Prior to this experience I had always taken this verse to mean that true love and friendship meant literally dying for a friend. When I began to open up about our situation, the true meaning of this verse became a great comfort to me. For me, true love and friendship was having women in my life who would put themselves through this death process with me. As I grieved the loss of everything I thought our marriage was, I needed these strong women to draw alongside and experience that grief with me. They loved me though all the difficult times not by saying “Wow, you’ve fallen in a pit,” but by crawling into the pit with me. And it wasn’t until after I was out of the pit, when I started to move toward acceptance and empowerment, that I realized what a gift from God this ‘greater love’ was. I don’t think I would have gotten to those later stages alone. It’s so easy to get stuck in the pit. Keeping my secret almost caused me to miss it. I’m glad I finally shared my secret and received this rich blessing. If you are reading this, I hope you do too. I’d hate for you to miss it.