Beautiful in His Time is a participant in multiple affiliate marketing programs. The author of this blog may receive commission for purchases or clicks made through links on this website.
I see her everywhere. And sometimes I curse her.
She isn’t real. I know that. She is pixels and enhancements, or maybe even plastic and implants. But either way, she isn’t real.
(And, if by some miracle, she really is that thin, that perfect, that flawless – then she probably lives a very different lifestyle than I and most other women are able to live.)
I curse her for what she has done – what she is doing – to our boys, to our men. She flaunts and exposes. Over time, they start believing that she is what is desirable. And the more they believe and the more they desire, the more she flaunts – and I start believing it too.
I start wondering why God would make my body so imperfect and undesirable.
She is the forbidden, the unattainable – and yet so accessible. With a click or a swipe or the push of the remote button, he can have her, fantasize about her and about being with her. From the youngest to the oldest, the most sheltered to the most worldly – he is lusting after her because she is what he knows he cannot have; and yet she is right there for him to feast his lusts upon. The forbidden becomes his controlling desire.
Once he has tasted of her forbidden fruit, it’s hard for him to go back.
She is like a macaroon. She is sweet. She has no substance. She’s just sugar and if he has enough of her he will grow sick.
I am like chocolate. I am dark, rich, and complex. Sweet and bitter because I am made up of a life of both pleasure and heartache. I am imperfect yet beautiful in my imperfection.
I am real. I am beneficial.
I am precious.
So is every woman reading this post.
But the world says no. It screams to men that you need to eat macaroons to be a real man. It flings macaroons in the face of every woman and says you need to be this for him to want you. It is a money making machine – the beauty industry, the pornography industry, the sex trade industry – feeding on the lusts of men and the insecurities of women who just want to be loved and wanted.
And the cycle goes on. The men are brainwashed into believing a lie. The real women are rejected for a cheap knock off. And so they give themselves over to being more like her, the macaroon:
If only I looked more like a macaroon
If only I had her flavor of sweetness instead of mine
If only I fed him more chocolate he wouldn’t want macaroon so much
If only I could mix some macaroon into my chocolate – maybe then he would be satisfied
We women are losing ourselves to a broken system, trying to be a bandaid for the lusts of men when they are insatiable.
I write this because people aren’t talking enough about men lust and the women who love them. Lust is affecting 60-90% of men, even Christian men, but we are staying silent because of the shame and the stigma and the horror of its profanity. Pornography statistics are staggering. Men are in bondage, women are hurting and hating their bodies. Marriages are struggling with these very real problems.
“…every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed.” (James 1:14)
The lust of the man is the man’s problem.
Dear Sister who loves a man struggling with lust, can I encourage you?
It’s not about you.
It’s not about your chocolate not being sweet enough. It’s not about his need to eat more chocolate.
It’s about him and her, the macaroon. It’s about him and his taste for the forbidden. It’s about him wanting what he knows he cannot have. And that’s his problem.
If only all of those things what you wish were true about yourself came true… it wouldn’t cure his lust.
A bigger cup-size won’t cure his lust.
A hairless body won’t cure his lust.
A slim, flawless waist won’t cure his lust.
Flinging yourself at him won’t cure his lust.
Getting dirtier in the bedroom won’t cure his lust.
Your internet filters, as helpful of an accountability tool as they are, won’t cure his lust.
Only Jesus can. Only him walking in the spirit can. Only redemption can.
Sister, you can’t be her. You will never be her. And even if you were, it probably still wouldn’t be enough.
You are like chocolate. You are desirable. Embrace your chocolate-ness and your imperfectly flawed but beautiful body. Stop trying to fix his problem by changing yourself. Be you. And let him love you just the way you are.
Then you can join in the battle alongside him to help him be an overcomer. He needs you to be his wife, his partner, his confidant, his lover, his forgiver – not his bandage, his judge, his nag, his snoop, or his enemy.
He doesn’t need you to fix him. He needs you to stand by him while he yields to Jesus for the fixing.