Chapter 1 The Lords Abundant Grace For I am the LORD your God, who takes hold of your right

hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Isaiah 41:13 A crisis does not define us, but it will reveal who we truly are. During such a difficult time, if we allow Him to, God fills the gaps exposed within us, and His strength is made perfect in our weakness. Some life-changing events arrive after months of elaborate planning followed by giddy anticipation, such as a wedding, buying a home, or the birth of a baby. Other events collide with our lives, coming as a surprise or even a horrifying shock. In the midst of the normal day-to-day proceedings an unforeseen moment occurs. It replays in our minds forever as the instant our reality skewed. The life we knew ends, becoming the uncertain and frightening beginning of an existence we never would have imagined on our own. Such an incident happened to me. It seems strange now to realize the events leading up to and creating the transformation played out for years without my knowledge. How many years? I may never know. But as I consider all that has transpired, I feel confident that my calamity has drawn me closer to God and fortified the relationship I have with him. I cannot say that I am grateful for the catalyst, but I am most thankful for His very real presence during the difficult journey that followed. On May 7, 2006, my husband and I observed our eighteenth wedding anniversary. It was not celebrated in our customary fashion with a special night out at our favorite restaurant. The evening would normally have officially begun in the establishments parking lot before exiting our car. My husband would have read aloud to me a poem he had written with his own creatively romantic flare. Instead, I stayed home with our two sons, and he was over one hundred miles away locked in a jail cell.

In the months following my husbands incarceration, I discovered several things, the primary one being I did not know my husband as well as I thought. Also, my previous personal exposure to the legal system was rather limited, so another thing I was surprised to learn was that the system moves at the pace of a sloth. But the greatest lesson I received was that Gods grace is truly sufficient for me to endure and eventually flourish in the face of any challenge that may come before me, although this realization did not come easily or without great heartache. I also learned that the compulsions with which my husband had been struggling for years were not rare or highly unusual--he just chose to take his response to those compulsions to a higher level of engagement than most. Addiction to pornography, especially Internet pornography, is a growing problem that transcends race, household income, religious affiliation, education, career path, or any other distinguishing category that one could possibly list. There is no specific profile for a pornography addict. Anyone and everyone can be drawn in, even females, as the impulse can become equally as irresistible to some women. But males are the primary casualties, and all families must guard themselves against the chance that their husbands, fathers, and sons may fall prey to this insatiable predator. Some people believe looking at pornography is harmless and a morally acceptable form of entertainment, easily controlled by the viewer. The statistics claim something far different, however, and took only minutes to find. Just looking over a couple of websites, which offer data from many, many sources, I found a staggering amount of information relating to this tragic phenomenon. There were also statements regarding the regular growth and constant change of these alarming stats. In the United States alone there are more than forty million adults who have admitted to purposely visiting pornographic websites; over 70 percent of men from eighteen to thirty-four browse a pornographic site each month; 52 percent of the men attending a Promise Keepers Christian conference in 1996 admitted to pornographic involvement within one week of attending the event; over half of evangelical

pastors admitted to viewing pornography in the last year; Christians who were polled said it was a problem in 47 percent of their homes; Internet pornography was claimed to be a significant factor in more than 60 percent of the divorces filed in 2003; 17 percent of women confessed to struggling with pornography addiction; and every second--not minute, but second--more than $3,000 is spent on various forms of pornographic materials. A chaplain I interviewed told me he believed as many as 80 percent of the inmates he counseled in his countys jail system began their illegal activities after first becoming hooked on pornography, regardless of the sort of crime they eventually committed. It was the chaplains contention that the moral compass of each individual was negatively impacted. As a result, each of the accused developed a lopsided view of the law. A curious, first-time spectator of pornography can quickly become a regular user. During each instance the flood of chemicals released by the brain is the same as those dispersed during sexual intimacy with a partner but in differing amounts. Even though the emotional response is hollow and longterm exposure eventually sabotages the ability for a healthy sexual relationship, the compulsion to look at pornographic images becomes so strong it has been called visual crack cocaine. (Included at the end of the book is a list of resources for you to visit for additional information.) Viewings are practiced in secret and considered forbidden--even by the ogler himself, hence the private, clandestine nature of the act. Fear of being discovered embeds itself in the mind of the viewer. This state of distress increases the production of the substance cortisol, which supercharges the bodys physical response, thus creating a more intense climax than one resulting from a purely sexual encounter. The mind and body undergo conditioning when sexual desires are satisfied in the company of pornography rather than the spouse. The conditioned, solitary experiences become the preferred experiences. Gods intent for the marriage bed to intensify and solidify the husband/wife relationship is hijacked when desires become cravings that can only be sated by the individual himself.

Despite the addicts affairs with his two-dimensional lovers, his brain rapidly becomes desensitized, diminishing their ability to stimulate him upon return visits. The variety of images and the type of images seen must become more risqu to provide the user with the desired biological response. Consequently, the individuals willingness to engage in the unacceptable behavior steadily surges; taking risks becomes the rule rather than the exception until nothing else matters as much--not work, not family, not friends, not anything. Physical gratification is the priority at all costs, transforming the user to a fully credentialed addict. Internet pornography is not only pictures and video; it includes chat rooms and e-mails where sex and sexual fantasies are discussed in extremely graphic detail. Chatting online can escalate to in-person meetings, even with an underage individual. That is what led to my husbands legal demise. Sadly, the demise of his character began many years before when, as a curious teenager, he traversed the threshold of an adult bookstore for the very first time.

Chapter 2 The Wastefulness of Worry And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his lifes span? If then you cannot do even a very little thing, why do you worry about other matters? Luke 12:2526 (NASB) One particular occasion in an adult Sunday school class stands out in my mind when the teacher told us that we should not worry about anything because worrying is a sin. Besides, he said, reassuringly, God never gives us more than we can handle. That was when I began to worry. I am a strong person, and I feared God might allow me to handle a lot. Years later I learned that God does give us more than we can handle for the purpose of growing our faith and strengthening our bond with Him. On Tuesday, January 31, 2006, at approximately 1:15 p.m., I was at home waiting for a telephone repairman to fix a faulty phone jack. At that time of day I was typically still at work managing the office of the public relations firm my husband started twelve years earlier. We worked together, growing a small but successful PR operation that specialized in auto racing. Much of our companys success was directly attributable to my husbands contacts with the national motorsports media and the experience he gained working as the director of public relations for NASCAR. He spent thirteen years with the sanctioning body during the transition when racing went from a southern craze to a national spectacle. Our firm was small, but it provided excellent service, and its integrity was regarded as that of the highest caliber. I heard a knock at my front door. Looking through the peephole I expected to see a representative from our local telephone company. Instead, three men stood on my front porch in his place. I pulled on the handle hesitantly unsure as to whether or not I should be opening my door to this trio when I was certain I knew none of them. One of the men wore a shirt and tie

and had a photo ID hanging around his neck, identifying him as an officer with our citys police department. He showed me his badge, introduced himself, and said that he needed to speak with me about my husband. Immediately I gripped the doorknob a little tighter and thought to myself, Hes dead. There were two other men with the officer and he introduced them as representatives of the county sheriffs department. They were dressed like regular people, no dress shirts or uniforms, so I quickly deduced they were probably undercover deputies. As the men entered my home, my head began to swim. Stepping inside the officer told me my husband had been arrested in Guilford County. I dont know where that is, I said. My mind was a total blank. Up in Greensboro, he said. Why was he arrested? I asked. With a grim face he replied, We cannot tell you. Then why are you here? I was feeling very confused. We are here to secure your home to make sure no one enters or leaves, he stated with the full authority of an officer of the law. I was then told I would not be allowed to leave their presence except to use the restroom--if that were to become necessary. I received permission to call the phone company and cancel the request for the repair, but I was too late. The telephone repairman showed up shortly thereafter. I started to get up to go out and let him know I would need to reschedule. The police officer motioned for me to stay where I was and told me he would handle it. I got the message; my home was no longer in my control. When he walked back in the house my confusion was joined by irritation. So youre not going to tell me why he was arrested? I asked incredulously. The officer in charge of this investigation will be here shortly, and he will be able to give you all of the details and answer your questions, was his clipped reply.

Investigation!?! If this was an investigation, then there was organization involved, and that took time, didnt it? Had something happened just recently or was this an ongoing situation? I had to sit down. I suddenly felt as if the level of my blood sugar had fallen to zero. I asked the officers to please have a seat with me. All three remained standing. I was now not only feeling sick but very uncomfortable. My husband was not dead, but he had been arrested, and they would not tell me why. I asked if they were sure there was not something they could tell me. I was told that the officer in charge would be arriving soon along with a number of other officers and FBI agents, and they would bring a search warrant giving them the right to search our home. Search our home? FBI agents? What in the world was going on? What are you looking for? I asked, totally bewildered. We cant tell you, he said firmly. I asked once again if they would sit down. They all politely declined. I took a deep breath and began praying to myself. Lord, this cannot be true. Please be with me. Are you sure you have the right man? I asked grasping at straws. Could this possibly be a mistake? No, Maam. Another grim look. We have the right man. So I just have to sit here and wait? At this point I was feeling very lost and fearful. They should be here by 2:00, one of the deputies said trying to sound reassuring. At that time it was just after 1:30 p.m. I was told that a similar scenario was playing out simultaneously at my office with our two employees being informed their boss had been arrested, they could not leave the building, and that a group of officers were on their way with a warrant to search that facility as well. My stomach began to make audible noises. I was becoming physically ill. I tried to imagine what my husband could have done to cause this state of affairs. At first I thought that he might have gotten stopped for speeding and

mouthed off to a highway patrol officer who had pulled him over. But I did not understand why our home and office would need to be searched if that were what had happened. They said this was an investigation. An investigation as a result of speeding made no sense. My brain was in hyperdrive, and I thought to myself, Drugs? No, it couldnt be drugs . . . could it? No, not drugs!! My mind was straining to make sense of what could possibly be the cause of an investigation and a search of our home. I eventually fixated on the thought that a business deal must have gone bad. My husband had told me he was meeting with one of our clients that morning and that he would be back in the office sometime after lunch. He should have returned by then; he should have been calling me to let me know how his meeting had gone. But he was in jail, and I was the reluctant host to an enigmatic police officer and his equally mysterious cohorts. The officer and deputies eventually sat down, each on a different piece of furniture. I felt completely surrounded and totally alone. They began talking shop about some guy who had been breaking into cars at area Cracker Barrel restaurants. My mind was silently screaming, How can you be so insensitive? I dont want to hear about any of this. I dont know if my life will ever be the same. How can you sit in front of me and talk about this kind of thing right now? On the outside I felt numb and unable to move, like a weight had been put on my chest and was being held in place simply by the presence of these men. The police officers phone rang, and he took his call outside the room. This happened two or three more times. One of the phone calls was regarding his provision for lunch. He placed his order and talked about how hungry he was. I had already eaten lunch and was trying very hard not to lose it. My stomach continued to complain loudly as the stressfulness of the situation began to build inside me. Mistaking the growling for hunger, one of the deputies told me if I wanted to go into the kitchen and get something to eat, I was welcome to do so. I told him that was the last thing I could do right then.