I’m Just a Guy: Wrestling With MoneySample

The Lust of the Flesh

I experienced one of the greatest fishing adventures of my life when I was 12 years old, standing on a pier in Carolina Beach, NC. Our family loved vacationing there, and pier fishing with my dad and brother was always a highlight. That particular year, we happened to visit during a “spot run,” when large schools of Atlantic spot fish gather close to shore. What we witnessed became a memory I’ll never forget.

A traditional pier rig has two or three hooks, and normally, you sit patiently waiting for a bite. But during that spot run, we were pulling up two or three fish at a time. As soon as the line hit the water, fish were on and ready to be reeled in.

It was pure fishing chaos—shoulder to shoulder, line after line, even pulling fish up on bare hooks because we forgot to add bait! Those spots would do anything to get to what they thought was food, completely unaware of the hooks hidden in the lure.

Fast forward to my early twenties, and I became just like those fish. My “bait” had four tires and four-wheel drive. Saying I love trucks would be an understatement. When I graduated from college, my first thought was, “I deserve this.” That one decision began a snowball of poor financial choices.

Negative equity? No problem—I just rolled it into the next loan. I was a lone spot swimming in a sea of shiny lures, and for too long, I satisfied my craving for that with the intoxicating new vehicle smell. The desire to feel a certain way pulled at me hard. It wasn’t until I stopped to examine my motives that I realized I was tying my perceived identity to something that literally just sat in the driveway.

For me, it was trucks. For you, maybe it’s motorcycles, boats, guns, houses, or something else. Let me be clear: there is nothing wrong with having nice things, as long as those things don’t have you.

In my case, the lust of the flesh had taken a firm grip. It took radical change to break free. There isn’t a truck in my driveway today, but I know that when that day comes again, I’ll own the truck—it won’t own me.

Through His divine wisdom, He provided conviction in the area I needed most. He gave me just enough clarity to see that my cravings were leading me away from Him. That moment of insight was a gift—one that began the slow, necessary work of replacing impulsive desires with eternal ones. He provided the nudge I didn’t even know I needed.

Whenever I read these verses in James, I pause to think: If I wanted to take myself out, what would I use as bait?

Whatever your answer to that question is, that’s exactly where your diligence and spiritual attention must turn. The bait always looks good—until the hook sets. Stay alert, stay grounded in truth, and remember that real freedom comes when we desire Christ above anything the world dangles in front of us.

Reflection questions:

1. What “bait” is most tempting for you right now?
2. Are your possessions owning you or serving you?