Transcript

The Trap · Intentional Guy

Michael Chestnut: A few weeks back we did the episode on masturbation. I almost didn't run with it. I sat on it for weeks, picturing the emails I'd get. How could you talk about that on a Christian podcast? We ran with it anyways. And I did not get what I expected. Instead, I got message after message from guys saying that was the one. That's the episode they needed, because that's the one area they lose to more than anything else. Here's the part that actually got me though. A lot of those guys riding in weren't married guys sneaking around. A lot of them were divorced, widowers, single, no wife to be unfaithful to. Just a guy alone, carrying shame, he didn't know where to put. So today is not round two of that episode. Go back and listen to it. But today is about two things that episode didn't fully cover. First, What do you actually do with a sex drive that's real and God-given when you don't have a marriage to put it in? And second, when you do fail, what happens in the five minutes after? And how you keep one bad night from becoming your identity? Let's not pretend this part is simple because it isn't. On the masturbation episode, we were direct. It's lust driven. It's tied to fornication. It's the same heart issue Jesus named in Matthew 5. That hasn't changed, and we're not walking back on it today. But here's what I want us to say straight to the single guy and divorced man listening. Your sex drive is not a design flaw. God built it into you on purpose. Wanting it isn't a sin. It's evidence you're a normal man. So I'm not going to sit here and act like this is easy for you just because I found a clever loophole to hand to you. Scripture is honestly narrow here. Paul says it plainly in First Corinthians 7. It's better to marry than to burn with passion. He doesn't offer a third option. There's no verse that says, and if you're single, here's your workaround. That's a hard thing to hear. And I'm not going to soften it by saying something else. So what do you actually do with the drive? Not a substitute act. That's just relabeling the same struggle. What actually helps? Hard physical exertion, the kind that legitimately burns off intensity. Fasting and praying, which sound like a churchy answer, but it's real. Physical discipline of saying no to your body on purpose so it's not always in charge. Deep, unfiltering brotherhood, actual face to face friendship, not just this podcast in your ear, and honestly grieving it, letting yourself feel this is hard and unresolved. Instead of pretending a disciplined man doesn't feel the weight of it, you're allowed to say, this is genuinely difficult, and I wish it were different, without that being a lack of faith. That's not you failing in purity. That's you being honest in front of God about something that's very real. Here's the pattern most of us know. You fall. Doesn't matter how. Phone in bed, hotel room on a work trip, 2 AM, and the house is quiet. Within about 60 seconds, a voice shows up. It's not tempting you anymore. It's handing down a verdict. There it is. You did it again. This is just who you are. Might as well finish the night out. That voice is the actual trap, not the fall. The fall's over in a few minutes. The trap is believing that few minutes now tells you who you are. One bad night turns into I'm a guy who can't stop. And once you believe that, one more time doesn't feel like a choice anymore. It feels already decided. Before we talk about what to do after you fail, let's talk about cutting it off earlier. Because an accountability plan works best before the moment, not just after. This isn't complicated. It's a person you check in with on a schedule, not just after a disaster. It's a filter on your device that someone else has the password to. It's knowing your own pattern. What time of night, what kind of stress, what's usually sitting underneath it. And building a call into the plan for exactly that window before you're standing on the edge of it. Here's the thing though: plans fail. You will not bat a thousand. And if your plan fails on a given night, that failure doesn't get to rewrite your identity. That's the whole next section. Let's say the obvious thing out loud. Calling another man right after you fail feels insane. You feel disgusting? It's embarrassing? You feel like a hypocrite? Every part of you wants to hide, do not confess. So let's make this less complicated. Here's what it can actually sound like. If you rather text first. Text something like, hey man, don't need to get in it over text, but I slipped again tonight. Not asking you to fix anything. Just didn't want to carry it by myself. Can we grab coffee this week? If you're calling, you don't need an opening speech. You call and say something like this. Hey, sorry to call late. I'm not doing great right now. I fell again. You don't have to say anything smart. I just need you to know. That's the whole line. You're not writing a confession letter. You're sending one honest sentence to one person who already knows your story. And you send it while you're still feeling like garbage. Not after you've cleaned yourself up enough to feel okay saying it. The disgusting is exactly what the trap wants to use to keep you quiet. There's a name for this in recovery psychology. The abstinence violation effect. The moment someone breaks a promise to themselves, they don't just feel bad about that one action. They rewrite the whole identity around it. Guessing I'm just someone who fails at this. And that identity gives them permission to keep going, which means the spiral isn't some unique personal defect. It's a documented pattern, which means it can be interrupted on purpose before it happens again. The interruption. The second that voice shows up, say out loud, even just to yourself, that's the trap talking, not the truth. Then make the call. Proverbs twenty four sixteen for the righteous fall seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumbles in times of calamity. Read that slowly. The righteous man in the verse isn't the guy who never falls. He's the guy who falls seven times and gets up seven times. Falling isn't what disqualifies you. Staying down is. Look at David after Bathsheba. Psalms fifty one. He doesn't spiral into, well, I've already ruined it. Might as well. He turns right there in the wreckage. Create in me a clean heart old God. Not after some imaginary clean enough moment. Right there. That's the model. Not sinless. Just quick to turn. I know this trap from the inside, not from a book. There were nights I fell, and within minutes I already decided the night was a write-off. If I'd already fallen once, why fight the second time or the third? I told myself I was just being honest about who I really was. What actually turned it around wasn't willpower. It was one phone call at the worst possible moment to a guy who said, Tell me what's actually going on, instead of how could you? that call broke the lie that I was already too far gone to matter. That's the whole reason this ministry exists. Restoration isn't something you white knuckle alone in a room. It happens face to face with another guy. There's two things I want you to do tonight. One, pick your line. One sentence you'll say the second the trap voice shows up. That's the trap talking, not the truth. Use that. Two, pick your guy. Name one man. Not a group chat. Not someone eventually. One specific man you will text or call within five minutes. of falling. Save the text draft in your phone right now, word for word, so it's ready before you need it. Do both tonight. This week, name your one more time moment before it shows up. Pick your line. Pick your guy. Save the text. You didn't ruin everything. You fell. Seven times, seventy times, the invitation to get back up never runs out. Let's get coffee. Let me be your brother. Let me walk beside you.