The August 31 page of a Sexaholics Anonymous book titled The Real Connection:
Victory Over Lust Is The Key
True sobriety includes victory over lust (SA 202).
For me, awareness of lust is the key. I lust for sex, food, possessions, knowledge, admiring glances, honor, or anything that promises to me feel better about myself. While each of these lust objects may bring temporary pleasure, none provides long-term satisfaction. In my addiction, I was never satisfied because none of these objects could make me feel good about myself. As long as I felt badly about myself—who I am, how I look, and what I have done—then serenity always eluded me.
Lust is about wanting, but never really getting.
Addiction is about taking, but never really having.
Love is about caring, never possessing.
Taking the actions of love by caring about the wellbeing of my fellow sexaholics and giving of myself in service to the Fellowship—that is what satisfies.
Higher Power, help me find in You what I sought in lust.
I really, really love this talk by President Uchtdorf. Here’s an excerpt:
Not long ago I was skiing with my 12-year-old grandson. We were enjoying our time together when I hit an icy spot and ended up making a glorious crash landing on a steep slope.
I tried every trick to stand up, but I couldn’t—I had fallen, and I couldn’t get up.
I felt fine physically, but my ego was a bit bruised. So I made sure that my helmet and goggles were in place, since I much preferred that other skiers not recognize me. I could imagine myself sitting there helplessly as they skied by elegantly, shouting a cheery, “Hello, Brother Uchtdorf!”
I began to wonder what it would take to rescue me. That was when my grandson came to my side. I told him what had happened, but he didn’t seem very interested in my explanations of why I couldn’t get up. He looked me in the eyes, reached out, took my hand, and in a firm tone said, “Opa, you can do it now!”
Instantly, I stood.
I am still shaking my head over this. What had seemed impossible only a moment before immediately became a reality because a 12-year-old boy reached out to me and said, “You can do it now!” To me, it was an infusion of confidence, enthusiasm, and strength.
Brethren, there may be times in our lives when rising up and continuing on may seem beyond our own ability. That day on a snow-covered slope, I learned something. Even when we think we cannot rise up, there is still hope. And sometimes we just need someone to look us in the eyes, take our hand, and say, “You can do it now!”
So many words here remind me of myself, my addictions, and my ongoing recovery “I tried every trick to stand up, but I couldn’t—I had fallen, and I couldn’t get up… I began to wonder what it would take to rescue me.”