One thing that has changed for me in this last year is my focus. Typically we tend to focus on behavior we want changed without really looking at the root symptom. Most teachings on pornography for example, only scratch the surface of a much deeper problem. But these problems tend to live in areas of the male psyche, behind a door that says "do not open".
Men are waffles, women are spaghetti. If you have never heard this saying before it refers to how with women, everything is connected, like one long spaghetti noodle on a plate. Men however, have many compartments like a waffle, all segmented and not really connected. This is no flaw in design, it is what allows us to go to war when the time comes to protect those we love. We are able to take the fear that would disable us and shove it into one of those compartments and walk onto the battlefield. I believe that we as men have taken this principle and applied it to everything.
I had many containers, and I am willing to bet most men do. We don't even realize how many there are or that we have them. For many men, containers are a source of comfort, nothing ever really has to get dealt with to continue on with life. But what kind of life is that?
I had trouble containing my containers, especially after my first real confrontation with with the reality and finding out that I wasn't the perfect husband. My containers started to overflow with the grief I had inside, and the confusion as to who I was. My wife couldn't answer the questions, no female can bestow masculinity to a man, I needed another man.
As funny as it sounds, as much as most men are unaware that they even have these containers, they know that they don't want to start cracking them open. Fathers (myself included) have helped their sons build their very first container when we tell our boys that men don't cry. I know of men that haven't shed a tear since that day.
Containers can hold a a whole host of ugliness, the more that a man has had to face in a his years on this planet, the bigger the pile if undealt with. The more emotionally bankrupt the man, the more containers he is unaware of.
I have pictured what my container "warehouse" looked like when I first started my journey, hopefully this will shed some light into the male psyche.
Imagine a large warehouse, and industrial warehouse. This warehouse has many large shelves that can only be reached with a forklift. The isles are endless, the floors are swept clean. And on each shelf sits 3 to 4 containers. The warehouse is full, and each container is placed chronologically after the other as the pains of life happened. Got the mental picture? Good.
Now have a massive earthquake hit that warehouse so that all of the containers fall off of their shelves are are sitting piled on the floor. This I believe is an accurate picture. Some of the worst hurts are somewhere underneath everything else. Some containers have cracked and are leaking their contents out into everyday life, tainting all that we say or do.
My warehouse is looking very organized these days, most of the containers on their shelves, very few new ones are coming in and a large number of containers from my past have been emptied and swept clean and thrown into the fire. I hired a janitor.
I was a Christian for a long time before I realized that Jesus could help me with my warehouse. Not only could he help, but he wanted to. The sacrifice on my part was to trust him with the key. We now go through the containers together, little by little, one by one. One day my warehouse will be very empty.
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