Chapter 2: The Hook

I was nine years old when the hook was set.

It didn't feel like sin. It felt like curiosity. My friend and I were just exploring—two kids, spending long afternoons together. We didn't know what "sex" was. We just wanted to look, to touch, to discover. And so we did.

That's when Satan learned what bait would keep me coming back.

I didn't understand the weight of it then. I just knew I didn't want to get caught. My mom was a church organist, and I'd been in church since infancy. I knew the difference between right and wrong. But I didn't know why this felt wrong. I didn't know what part of it was broken. I just knew it had to stay secret.

Years passed. The visits slowed. The exploring stopped. But the spiral had begun.

By eleven, I was rubbing myself on bed sheets. One day, there was an emission. It scared me. I thought I'd broken something. But it also introduced a new kind of pleasure. And Satan sank the hook deeper.

That summer, I was raped—repeatedly—by an adult camp leader. I didn't know it then, but my life had just been rerouted. My understanding of sex, safety, and self was shattered. And I didn't tell anyone.

Later that summer, I discovered men's magazines. The images intensified the pleasure from the sheets. I couldn't get enough. Fantasy and masturbation became my refuge. My routine. My prison.

I was hooked. And I would stay hooked for decades.

Biblical Parallel: Adam and Eve

Genesis 3: The First Fall

They were naked and unashamed. Innocent. Curious. Free.

Then came the whisper: "Did God really say…?"

Then came the bite.

Then came the shame.

Adam and Eve didn't know what sin was. They just knew they weren't supposed to eat. But the fruit looked good. Pleasing. Desirable. So they reached. They tasted. And everything changed.

They hid. They covered themselves. They felt exposed.

And when God came walking in the garden, they didn't run to Him. They ran from Him.

It wasn't just disobedience—it was disconnection.

The hook was set.

And humanity has been spiraling ever since.

Reflection: The Lie of Secrecy

Sin thrives in secrecy. It doesn't need full understanding—it just needs silence.

That's how it grows. That's how it hooks. That's how it hides.

Like Adam and Eve, I didn't know what I was doing. But I knew I didn't want to be seen.

And that's the first lie sin tells us: "If they see you, they'll reject you."

But God's first question in the garden wasn't "What did you do?"

It was "Where are you?"

He wasn't hunting them. He was pursuing them.

He wasn't angry. He was heartbroken.

He didn't come to punish. He came to restore.

Even in the first fall, grace was already moving.

Invitation: Where Are You?

If you're hiding—behind shame, behind secrecy, behind silence—God is still asking the same question:

"Where are you?"

Not to condemn.

To connect.

Take a moment.

Write down what you're hiding from.

Name the hook.

Then ask God to meet you there.

Because He will.

He always does.