One of the recent open day lectures run by Oak Hill Theological College, was on the theme of pornography. This was given by Robin Barfield, a children’s and youth worker. 

I grew up in a Christian home. My Mum is a Spirit-filled, born-again believer of Christ, and brought up my sister and I to attend church and Sunday school. My Dad left my Mum under quite heart-breaking circumstances when I was just 2 and moved about 30 miles away. We usually saw him at the weekend. He and Mum had been elders at a local Church of England, but upon his sudden departure, Mum felt unable to return to church.

I have been battling with porn for most of my life. My first encounter with hard core porn came between the ages of 11 and 12. I never thought at the time how much this would destroy me. Years passed and I would regularly watch videos or look at magazine images. At the age of 18, I made a commitment of faith, but, sadly, not very much changed in my behaviour. A week before my 21st birthday, my life with Jesus took a big step forward. I began getting help with my alcohol dependency, but my issue with porn remained unaddressed.

“Can a man walk on hot coals without his feet being scorched? So is he who sleeps with another man’s wife; no one who touches her will go unpunished.” – Proverbs 6:28-29 (NIV)

At least it’s not porn.” This phrase ran through my head somehow giving personal validation to my choices as a young teenager to gaze upon historical artwork of unclothed persons, dwell on human anatomy in science textbooks, and re-watch scenes from some popular movies. I was allowed to see all of these things, so surely it wasn’t wrong. I kept telling myself, “it’s not porn,” but I was still using it as visual stimulation and it morphed into erotica in my mind. These desires and habits became ingrained, and the trajectory was set.

In my late teens, I adopted a stray budgie that had flown in through my next door neighbour’s window and landed on his head whilst he was asleep. After trying unsuccessfully to locate the owner of the bird, I kept the budgie, naming it Wally (after the neighbour), not knowing that it was actually a female! Uneasy with keeping birds in cages, I left Wally’s cage door open for her to come and go as she pleased. She loved to have a fly around the room, but always returned to her cage after her excursions.