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The Father and The Porn Star

Posted Dec 18 2012 9:07pm
By Joel Adifon - originally published here .

This is an uncomfortable topic for many and even for myself. But I know that people out there need to read this.

For some personal reasons, right before taking a nap today, I asked Papa to show me how He feels about pornography.

I fell asleep and all of a sudden I saw myself as a tall, extremely muscled, and athletic Caucasian male.

I worked with extremely attractive, physically flawless girls and basically spent time being especially demeaning to them, calling them "bitches," "whores," and other terrible names. I would do this while the cameras were rolling and I was in scenes with them. I would continue even when filming wasn't going on.

In other words, I wasn't a very nice dude.

When we would wrap up filming for the day, I would go home and completely act as if who I was at work didn't even exist.

I had a beautiful little girl (about 3 or 4 years old) with the most beautiful golden, Rapunzel-like locks.

She would always be playing on the grass of our enormous backyard (I had a mansion in the dream) and whenever I would come from work, she would run to me and I would pick her up and twirl her around in my arms.

One day, we were both in the backyard. I was working on something and she was playing a few feet away.

I didn't notice, but there was a pile of sharp, crushed up pieces of glass near where she was playing. She was about to put her hands in it and play, which would have left them covered with cuts and contusions.

Right before she touched the glass, I happened to glance over at her.

I freaked out, yelled out her name, grabbed her and scooped her up in my arms, holding her tight to me.

"Honey," I said, "please don't play there, you'll hurt yourself and I'll be sad."

"Okay, daddy." She then ran off to go play somewhere else.

I looked at her going to make sure she was safe and all of a sudden, when I turned back to where my focus had been, the Father was standing right in front of me, staring right into my eyes.

He had pure silver hair and a silver beard, yet He looked young at the same time, with fiery, life-filled eyes.

He was smiling and His smile was filled with the most love-filled acceptance of me, yet I could see a deep sadness in it.

"Son, you really care about her don't you?"

"Yeah." I said.

"You didn't want her to get hurt, right?"

"Yeah."

"I want to show you something."

All of a sudden, I saw a scene projected onto my enormous backyard.

I saw all the girls that I normally worked with, on the grass, except they were all little girls.

I saw them running at a very fast pace for little girls.

I tried to see where they were headed and I saw a gigantic pile of broken glass with a large building sticking out if it.

The building said "Porn Industry" on it.

The Father, (He was still standing next to me watching the projection, while at the same time in it) was standing in front of the building with His hands out.

"Stop! Girls, please!" His booming voice echoed throughout the yard. "Everything that I've placed in you will be destroyed. All the dreams! All the hopes! All the innocence! STOP!"

But the girls wouldn't stop running. Some of them bumped into Him, knocking Him over.

Then, the vision faded.

The Father looked at me, with pain in His eyes and said, "In the same way that you didn't want your daughter to play in the glass, I never wanted my daughters to go into porn. My son, I don't want them to end up torn, wounded, and broken."

He looked into my eyes one last time and walked away.

The next day, I went back to work shaken up and confused.

I would do scenes with the girls, but my mind would be elsewhere. People would ask me if I was okay.

Finally, in the breakroom, I snapped.

I looked at the girls that I had so often mistreated and said, "Guys, I'm so sorry."

Some of them were getting high and just chilling and they were like, "What the f***? Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for being such a dick to you guys and for calling you all those names. I'm sorry." I could hardly hold back tears.

They all laughed and said, "Whatever dude. It's just work." None of them were taking me seriously and that broke my heart.

There was another male pornstar in my dream (probably a demon) who knew what I was up to and came right up to me with an angry scowl on his face. He put a gun up to my chest and said, "Shut the f*** up!"

He pulled the trigger.

I immediately woke and heard Papa say very clearly, in my spirit.

"Joel, My son, this is how I feel about pornography."

Guys, my heart was heavy after this.

As a man, I have struggled with this in various seasons in my life and sometimes the battle leaves you numb.

You begin to think,

"I'm not hurting anyone."

"Papa doesn't condemn me."

It is very true that Papa doesn't condemn you or see you differently for messing up, but His heart is breaking.

He is jealous for His daughters and He loves them with an everlasting love.

If you struggle with this, like I have, ask Him to give you a revelation of His heart.

Do not try to break this by striving or because it's the "right thing to do."

If you're a girl and your significant other is looking at this stuff, do not let that make you feel less than the perfection that you already are in Papa's eyes.

Pray for him and pray for all guys who are trapped in this thing.

Lastly, if you're a girl who's in the porn industry (or thinking about it) who is somehow reading this, I just want to say something to you.

You are loved. You are beautiful. You are perfect. You are clean.

Please forgive guys like me who have used you to feel good about ourselves or to fill the emptiness inside.

You have a Father who loves you unconditionally.

He is wildly, passionately, unequivocally in love with you.

He is not the angry Zeus like figure many preachers have expounded on in their sermons.

He just wants you to be safe and whole.

Talk to Him when you feel alone. Let Him be your friend.

He will never use you or take advantage of you.

And if we ever meet someday, let me hear your story and just share mine with you.

From one human being to another.
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