“Dear Brother Boniface, I bless God for using you to write those powerful articles on Kogi Report. I am a Christian who loves to serve God, but I have one problem that I’m secretly struggling with. I am married, but I can’t keep my eyes off beautiful ladies—especially those with figure 8 shapes and big nyash. Painfully, my wife hates sex. Hence, she can starved me for months. So secretly, i started fornication/ adultery and each time I have sex with these young ladies, my conscience will not let me rest—that i feel dirty and that God has rejected me. Please what do I do to stay pure? Thank you. Sir Ben. Abuja”
This cry from Brother Ben reverbrates the quiet screams of many men sitting in church, lifting holy hands on Sunday but living double lives in secret. His words are raw and real—and painfully common. Sadly, this is not a struggle of the pew alone; pastors, elders, and spiritual leaders—those called to shepherd souls—are not exempt. Many have tasted the pulpit’s fire and the bed of sin in the same breath. And the Church, instead of weeping, often watches.
Sir Ben is not alone in his torment. Countless men are trapped in bodies that betray their spirit and marriages that fail their desire. But even worse is the spiritual guilt that follows—the heavy feeling that God has rejected them, that salvation has expired. Yet this very guilt is also proof that grace is calling. Andrew Wommack rightly said, “Conviction is not God rejecting you—it’s His invitation to return home.” The question is not whether you’ve fallen, but whether you’re ready to rise again.
But to rise again, we must understand what it means to be born again. Being born again is not attending church or quoting scriptures while nurturing secret lusts. It’s not hiding under the title of “pastor,” “deacon,” or “elder” while sleeping with choir girls or church members. Being born again is death to the old man—where the lust of the flesh is crucified daily. As Jesus told Nicodemus in John 3:3, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” True discipleship demands a death to self—not just on the altar, but in private.

A wife’s coldness in bed is no excuse for lighting strange fires outside the home. Many Christian men, like Brother Ben, are broken by intimacy-starved marriages. Some women weaponize sex, others are simply uninterested. Yet adultery will never fix what only prayer, counsel, and love can heal. Kenneth Copeland warned, “You can’t walk in the blessing while living in disobedience.” Brother, adultery may satisfy your flesh for a moment, but it leaves your soul torn for a lifetime.
The painful truth is that our churches are filled with men who lead worship while addicted to porn, elders who mentor youth while texting mistresses, pastors who preach heaven but flirt with hell in secret. We cannot keep covering this rot with robes. We must bring it to the altar—publicly or privately—but sincerely. Revival will not come through noise; it will come through tears. We need to weep again—for our sins, our double lives, and our hardened hearts. This is not just a moral issue—it is a spiritual crisis.
And yet, hope is not lost. Your guilt, Brother Ben, is the mercy of God still pursuing you. Like the prodigal son, you have walked far, but the Father is still looking out the window, waiting. Your story does not have to end with shame—it can become a testimony. Andrew Wommack said, “Grace empowers you to live holy, not to excuse sin.” There is still power in repentance. There is still healing in confession. There is still purity after perversion.
This is a call—not just to Brother Ben—but to every believer, every church leader, and every Christian household. Let us return, not to religion, but to Jesus. Let us cry again, not for platforms, but for purity. Let us kneel again, not in performance, but in repentance. The bed of sin will always betray you, but the feet of Jesus will always receive you. The Church must return—not in pride, not in pretense—but in tears.
In Christ,
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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