The Dangers of Writing a Newsletter Like This

The Helm

The idea here at Fightin’ Poseidon is to pierce forward on the bow of life, in the treacherous waters together, as we make the attempt to live face to face with God, the devil, and ourselves. It’s a honest look through real struggles. The rest of the internet is busy and frantic and noisy and has a cycle of about half of a millisecond. We can slow down here and contemplate a thing or two.

That being said, there’s plenty of voices telling you what to do or telling you how you’ve got it wrong. In comes their directive for good living. Comparison is always there, tempting you to use someone else’s life as the measure for yours.

Still, I understand when I send these out, there is an element of authority that comes with them. I’m saying what I think and believe.

So, there is some danger in that. For both of us.

Let’s be real. Whether you’re reading this newsletter, listening to a podcast, or watching someone’s videos or reels, the first place that’s going to affect is your heart. From there, it’ll be your home. So, whoever it is speaking into your life from a digital distance, proceed with caution. There’ll be another day to talk about other voices, but today I’m specifically talking about weighing what I have to say. Especially when I’m trying to lead from a point of imperfection.

Today I’m taking you into the uneasy waters of my own doubts.

Clash of Tides

One of my favorite stories is Moby Dick. The action, characters, and philosophy carry me through the more dull portions of the book.

Towards the beginning, before the crew of the Peaquod embarks on their whaling voyages, there is a scene in a church. The reader is brought into a sermon by Father Mapple, and his cautionary sermon gives us pause, too

I’ve asked myself many times if I’m a castaway. The man in the mirror looks back with a long account of sin and failure, regrets and outcomes of stories from paths I regret not taking. A long history is enough to be identity defining. With a backstory of broken and crooked identity narratives, it’s way too easy to fall into the life crushing trap of, “This is who I am.”

Yet, I can also see what God has brought me through. I can see what scrapes he has kept me out of, what failures he’s protected me from, and what sins he’s delivered me out of. I can look back on my life, a life of sin and shame and self-serving, and see the grace of God over it. I can see so many ways the fire of my faith should be a smoking ash heap, but there’s always been a smoldering ember kept alive by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Even then, I can run aground. When the grace of God loses its luster because, DANGIT, I shouldn’t be this way, I get my eyes off Jesus.

Jesus, the son of God, who died for me, paid for my long history of sins with His blood, the payment I should have made, so that I could be adopted as His brother, and the Father’s son, the blood of Christ brought me into the family of God, and it gave me a seat at the great supper table.

It’s not that hard to grasp, really. It’s so simple a child should be able to understand it. “Jesus died for my sins.” Yet, as what I thought was R.C. Sproul but I can’t find the source also said, “The gospel is easy to understand but it takes a lifetime to get the gospel in your bloodstream.”

I’ve been in some conversations lately about how vital it is for us to understand the gospel. Yet, we’re always fighting to get more of it in our bloodstream. I’m not tossing up my hands to say, “Who can know?!” The doctrine of sanctification - that we will gradually become more like Jesus over the course of our lives - promises that we will change. We will become something different than we were prior to Christ saving us. The rate of that change differs from person to person. Sometimes it’s rapid and instant. Other times is as slow as a lifetime.

Yet, I still see the haunt of that old man in the mirror staring back at me. I don’t always see the son. Through blurred eyes, I will see the castaway. Then I wonder what right I have to put pen to paper ever again. This is my own misunderstanding of the gospel. I’m not seeing the Father love of God.

It is a hard thing to live in light of the good news that Jesus died for your sins, which doesn’t make sense because he also says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

In the church we would call this struggle one of assurance of salvation. It forces me to ask upon what rock am I basing the foundation of my salvation: Jesus’ work or mine?

One cannot look at the overall measure of one’s life fruit. None of us will ever be able to be tilt the needle into the positive or do enough good deeds to be out of the negative which is why we need the gospel in the first place. It’s like our connection with God is a length of chain and our sin snaps it. It’s only Jesus who can repair the break and reconciled the two sides. It really is scandalous that all of our sins and failures and wrongs were put on Jesus, then he paid the penalty for his people’s sins. Yet, Jesus also told the adulterous woman, once he forgave her sins, to go and sin no more (John 8).

I’ve been listening to the audiobook for The Titus Ten by J. Josh Smith and some of the chapters are around finding your identity in Christ. What’s my identity? Who am I? As I pondered this question, I thought about the song by the Getty’s: “In Christ alone my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song.” Then Smith talked about the assignments we have that do not make but flow out of our identity. These assignments are who we’re responsible for, what jobs we have to do, what relationships we have to steward. We can identify those by determining if they would suffer if we were to give up and quit showing up.

Perhaps this is what I’ve done. Perhaps this is what you’ve done. It’s all a misunderstanding of the gospel because even though we’ve been made sons and daughters of the King by being washed in the blood of the Son, even though we sing proclamations of how we were once enemies but now we’ve been made friends, the gospel is still not in our bloodstream. We still confuse our identity and our assignment. We still say things like, “I’m a lousy husband / wife / father / mother / son / daughter / etc.” We still don’t love our neighbor because instead we only love those who love us back. We haven’t yet learned to wash the feet of those who would never wash ours, or to love the ones who hate us. We still steward our resources and relationships like garbage because we’re lazy or tired or overwhelmed or undisciplined. It shouldn’t be that way and if it is, we ought to be working to turn from those ways under dependence of the Holy Spirit while we patiently wait for the Lord to make the work fruitful. We can’t give lies a foothold, especially when we’re the ones being tempted to believe them.

If who I am is dependent on anything other than being reconciled with the Heavenly Father, then I’m going to fall apart. And I have.

The Lord has also been faithful to pick me back up and keep me moving. That faithfulness to me hasn’t been in a vacuum, though, and the Lord is not a genie. His word, the Bible, contains His wisdom. It’s with the persevering power of His wisdom and the providential power of His hand that He will keep us close to Him and steady our souls with the ballast of Jesus’ reconciling work.

The Armory

Are you fighting today?

There’s always a joy thief.

There’s always a comparison to make and our pride loves when we come out on top. It’s tempting to position ourselves in a way that ensures that.

If we’re going to live face-to-face with God, then comparison has no place. I’ve heard it said the ground is level at the foot of the cross.

I’ll ask again: Are you fighting today?

If you are, do you have a fighter verse? This is a verse to memorize and use as a sword when you’re tempted. It could be when you’re tempted to give into making an identity out of your assignment like we talked about today. I first started leaning into a fighter verse well over a decade ago when God delivered me out of pornography use, which according to a study by the Barna Group, over half of practicing Christians admit to using. That’s not even a solely men statistic anymore, either, and the percentages are high.

So, on those days when I’m wondering if I myself am a castaway, I can look back and give testimony that God has indeed delivered me out of this. That’s a chain broken, a man set free, no longer under the dominion of darkness. If you’re fighting today, commit 2 Corinthians 5:21 to memory, and wield it like your life depends on it whenever temptation in any form comes knocking. Let it be on repeat on your tongue as you fight to believe the work of God in you.

Sunbreak Stories

A brother I’ve know for a long time, who I’ve seen his long term love for the Lord, is going through a grievously difficult season. He’s also not alone because I know other brothers who have been imperfectly faithful in similar storms.

This brother, not having advanced access to this issue, sent me a reel that steadies the soul in a way this issue addresses.

Here’s an ancient Israelite sunbreak story for your encouragement and building up of your faith.

Dropping Anchor

What’s the point of all this writing?

Am I laying it out as a sob story? I can sob to myself if I really want to, so there’s no point in laying this struggle out if it’s just to gain pity.

If I’m going to be honest, the conclusion I have to come to is that I really do not like the fact that I’m the kind of person who needs the gospel. I’ve looked in the mirror, seen the tarnish on the brass, and instead of being grateful that I’ve been delivered out of the dominion of darkness, I lament I ever dabbled in darkness in the first place. What pride is still in my heart!

The danger in this newsletter is that there are times I may lead from a misunderstanding of the gospel. There’s dangers of hypocrisy. There’s danger of error. My charted course is that if I approach this assignment with transparent and humble dependence, this ship will stay on course. Still, test everything I write. Take it to the Scriptures and measure it, for only God’s word is without error. I’m just a man. Many leaders have faltered, fallen to the wayside, and succumbed to error or downright apostasy. That’s rocked many boats. I’m a begger who has found bread telling others where I’ve found bread. Yet, to tell others is to take the helm.

It takes a posture of trust that the gospel really is true, and I truly am a son. There’s no room for my pride in that.

Our hearts have pride entrenched in them. Mine does. May I never be proven a castaway, no matter how much I feel it. Lord, I’m prone to wander. I feel that. I’m prone to leave the God I love.

Lord of glory, make us worthy to possess your name.

We are great sinners in need of a great savior.

Jesus Christ, shine into our night.

Stay Anchored and keep fighting the good fight,

~ J.P. Simons ⚓️

(PS: if you haven’t entered yet, tomorrow - 12/17 - is the drawing for a set of disc golf discs from Doomsday Discs, which could also be a great Christmas gift. I’m promoting it as a Father/Son giveaway because that’s the arena I have found to apply the things I write about here. You can read more about and enter the giveaway by clicking this link —> https://jpsimons.beehiiv.com/p/father-son-disc-golf-giveaway-is-live)

Below Deck: A Deep Dive

All of this is spiritual warfare. There will always be temptations to pride, to comparison, or to despair.

Mixing it up from our journey through Thomas Brooks’ 1652 classic, Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices, I’m mixing in another spiritual warfare classic: The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. If you’re unfamiliar with it, the book is intercepted correspondence between and elder demon and a younger demon.

There is an edition of the audiobook that is narrated by John Cleese of Monty Python fame. I tell you what, Screwtape was meant to be read by John Cleese.

Not every chapter is available so we’ll be starting in letter 2, which contains one of my all time favorite Lewis quotes about comparing our lives as Christians to the lives of others.