Sacred Naked

Sacred Naked-the spiritual side of pair bonding.

Sacred Naked is a phrase I've been using for years to describe pair bonding in an attitude of love, connectedness and gratitude toward God and gratitude toward your spouse. This sense of bonding and oneness is sometimes celebratory playful and erotic, sometimes gentle and tender, but always with a sense of bonding, oneness and togetherness. Pair bonding with a spiritual twist.

What does the Sacred Naked look like?

• Cuddling naked while listening to music or watching TV
  Any time you're together alone is a prime opportunity to pair bond. Even if you're not involved in active sex play, maximize every opportunity to get skin-to-skin.
  
• Cuddling naked while talking
  Connecting skin-to-skin makes it easier to share your feelings and can really bolster your courage when you want to talk about a subject you feel hesitant to discuss.
  
• Being playful in the shower
  with the wife's soapy breasts pressed against her husband's back. This can feel nurturing and gentle or feel like an erotic boost if she reaches around and pleasures him with her hands.
• Furtive urgent intercourse
  when the husband comes home for a nooner during lunch. One husband shared his story where his wife sent him a text message saying "come home now I need you". He arrived home to find his wife standing naked on the stairs saying, "let's go, I'm already ready for you."
• Getting ready
  Many wives have shared with me that they prepare themselves to make love to their husbands by giving themselves a clitoral orgasm while anticipating his arrival. Having a clitoral orgasm prior to intercourse can make the gspot much more receptive to pleasure during quickie intercourse. Perfect for a quickie where the husband reaches orgasm quickly.
• Pair bonding with God
  Have you ever considered that God created you a sexual being and that he wants you to embrace your sexuality with gratitude? This truth came home to me on a sunny day at the beach where my husband and I had found a secluded spot in between the dunes to spread our Liberator throe blanket. I stretched out to bask in the sun while my husband went for a swim. I could not see the ocean nor could anyone who happened across this deserted stretch of beach see me. I had total privacy just me and God. The sounds of the ocean were delightful, and the sun was so warm on my skin and the ocean breezes so delicious that I soon disrobed to enjoy it fully. I soaked in the pleasure from my senses and sent out my love and gratitude to God. It was one of the most beautiful spiritual and erotic moments of my life. Truly a Sacred Naked moment pair bonding with God enjoying the splendor and beauty of creation and the gift of touch he has given me. I wasn't fantasizing about another man, I was simply "hanging with my body and enjoying the sensations" as sobriety expert Dr. Doug Weiss from sexaddict.com describes healthy self-pleasuring for women. To honor his privacy, I won't mention my husband's response when he came back from a swim to find his wife bathed in light and immersed in pleasure. But I smile at the memory. I'm willing to bet he does too.
• When you're too tired
  When you're too tired for full on aerobic intercourse, you can always enjoy the Sacred Naked. Don't deny your spirit or your body the chance to bond with your mate just because you happen to be tired. Go ahead and cuddle naked. Give yourself permission to respond or not respond. Your body may surprise you and decide it has energy for sex after all!
• Make a choice
  to make the most of every opportunity to enjoy the Sacred Naked. You'll be surprised how many Sacred Naked opportunities open up on the path before you. It's almost as if a benevolent God wants you to enjoy your mate and enjoy your body. (biting lip and smiling)
  

Love, Shula

Sex and Worship-More Rich Parallels

I love it when this happens.
Some mornings I wake up with a worship song playing in my head and a beautiful desire to sing that song and use the song to connect with God.
This was one of those mornings.
The song today was Everlasting God by Brenton Brown. Here's the song. Enjoy it. Hum it, sing it, whatever you like. I'll be back to say more about worship and relational eroticism. Hah! (grin) I thought that would get your attention. But for now, enjoy the song.


The whole point to the song is to love God and notice his fine attributes. The worshiper notices and brags on God's fine attributes. God doesn't worship us back. What does the worshiper gain? The worshiper gains a beautiful connection to the one they love and worship.
Let's take a closer look at how this plays out in Everlasting God. The worshiper points out, brags on, and adores the following cool things about God:

• You are everlasting
• You are God
• You reign forever
• You are ours
• You reign forever
• You are our hope
• You are our strong deliverer
• You do not faint
• You do not grow weary
• You defend the weak
• You comfort those in need
• You lift us up on wings like eagles

I can tell you the joy I feel when I point out and adore these fine qualities about God. I am especially drawn to notice the things about God I particularly need or desire. When I feel weak, I remember God is the defender of the weak. I can embrace the fact that God will defend me. Just cause that's who he is. By noticing who he is, I can know my needs will get met. Organically. Just cause that's who he is. And I so delight in noticing who he is. Cause I know all those fine qualities are aimed toward helping me because he loves me. I feel so connected to him! Cause I know all those fine qualities will meet a corresponding need in me and in meeting that need, our bond will be strengthened.

This SO reminds me of lovemaking!

The whole point to making love to your husband or wife is to love them and notice his or her fine attributes. The lover uses their words and their touch to notice and brag on their lover's fine qualities. Dr. David Schnarch has a beautiful term for a focused erotic adoring of your mate. He calls it Doing and Being Done. During a time of focused giving while Doing her husband, the husband might just receive it and revel in it for the moment. In the same way, God doesn't worship us back. What does the Doer gain? The Doer gains a beautiful connection to the one they love and worship. I don't' mean worship in the pagan sense of elevating the creation to the level of creator. By worship I mean like the old wedding vow, "with my body I thee worship".

Let's take a closer look at how this could play out in a husband Doing his wife. I imagine a husband might point out, brag on, and adore the following cool things about his wife:

• You have such a tender heart
• At the same time, you are so lively and spirited
• The shape of your body is so alluring
• You are so loving
  
• You have such long, gorgeous hair
• Your breasts are absolutely beautiful
• I love seeing how your body changes as you become aroused
• You are such a loyal friend
  
• The little sounds you make when I touch you are so erotic
• You are so generous and giving

I can imagine the joy a husband feels when he points out and adores these fine qualities about his wife! He is especially drawn to notice the things about his wife that he particularly needs or desires. When he feels battle-weary from the roughness of the world, he can embrace his wife's tenderness and know that not all the world is rough and competitive. When he feels erotically drawn to his wife, as he sees signs of her arousal and knows that she is responding to him, he can know she wants him. Just cause that's who she is. By noticing who she is, her husband can know his needs will get met. Organically. A husband can so delight in noticing who she is. Cause he knows all her fine feminine qualities are aimed toward only him because she loves him. He can feel so connected to her! Because he knows all her fine qualities will meet a corresponding need in him and in meeting that need, their bond will be strengthened.

Can you remember a time when you spent uninterrupted time in focused adoring of your mate? What was that like for you? How did your husband or wife respond? Did you ever consider adoring God from your heart? In a similar way? Does worship for you feel like the focused adoring of lovemaking or something different? What does worship feel like for you?

I'll share more as more ideas occur to me. The parallels struck me as quite beautiful today and I wanted to share them with you.
With love,
Shula

A Single Reader Asks: Why Do Married Women Have Such a Hard Time Enjoying Sex?

I get the sweetest letters from y'all. Some letters seeking advice. Some letters sharing their story of overcoming and then coming coming coming. (twinkly-eyed Mona Lisa smile) The letter I'm going to share with you today arrived in the form of a comment. The comment is still on the post she commented on. But there are so many posts. So many comments, that I wanted to bring this one up front and center. Good stuff, darlings. Enjoy.

I'm unmarried and still a virgin (in my 30's), so perhaps I shouldn't be reading this on some puritanical level, but, well, I did.

Anyway, maybe I'll understand more fully when my desires and imaginations give way to actual reality one day if God should give me a husband - in other words, I have to admit that any reaction I have to your writings is definitely not backed up by experience. But I just hafta wonder -

Why is it that marital sex is so often painted as a difficult thing for women to enter into or enjoy? Unmarried teenager girls often cannot contain desire and the sexual opportunities presented to them, and have sex often enough - they don't go dragging their feet to their teenage lovers' sexual advances. Why is it that christian married women so often present sex as something that takes so much work for them to want or to truly enjoy?

I am so eager for the day when a man might take me completely and utterly in love for one another before the Lord. Is it really so hard in actuality? Will I really have to work on it so much or won't it just be able to be something that we rush into with joy and longing naturally, easily, with innocence and overwhelming desire and excitement?



Dear Anonymous,
Sweetheart, there is no way for me to know exactly what your first time will be like. I wish for you with all of my heart that it is a passionate beautiful orgasmic soul-affirming experience.

In answer to your question, why do married women often find it so hard to enter into and enjoy married sex when unmarried teenage girls often cannot and do not contain themselves?

Well the first thing that comes to mind as a reason is married women have such a hard time letting themselves go and abandoning themselves to marital pleasures is that when they were teenage girls they could not and did not contain themselves. The mind is a harsh judge, and the mind/body connection is strong. So often even after a woman believes God forgives her for sex that was too soon, she has a very difficult time forgiving herself and this judge in her head keeps the party in her loins from throwing all the confetti they rightfully deserve while partying with her husband.

Shannon Ethridge made a beautiful illustration of this dynamic when she was on The Today Show. She said so many women internalize the message that bad girls do and nice girls don't. So (my paraphrase here) they get off on bad girl sex. When they put that wedding ring on their finger, it may take much longer than the 5 seconds to put the wedding ring on their finger to convince their mind and heart and body that good girls do, they do it often and they do it with great pleasure that uninhibited pleasure gives them a strong bond with their husband. That's the core message of my novels, that sex doesn't have to be bad to be good. Good sex can be verrrry verrrry good. ;)

Another factor, another potential obstacle to a married woman truly entering into sweet erotic abandon with her husband is messages of shame soaked into her body by other people in her life who treated her body with disrespect or outright abuse. I've been very upfront in my story (see My Story in sidebar) and in the first year of my blog that "my first sexual experience, hell, my first era of sexual experiences, were coerced, and of a very abusive nature". These wounds left shrapnel in my heart and in my mind and through the strong mind/body connection, even in my body. For a long time, places that my abusers touched me would sound off horrid memories of shame and disgust every time that part of my body was touched again. Even when touched by my loving husband. The body/mind connection is strong. And God designed our skin to have a direct hotline to our memory. With the intended purpose to be that we are strongly bonded to our husband by the myriad of pleasurable loving safe passionate GOOD feelings we experience every time that part of our body is touched. The icky sad difficult but not impossible thing is when that part of our body is touched by an abuser and the skin/bonding/memory system built into our heart and body is activated, what we body memory bond to is bad sex, bad feelings and an unhealthy person who had NO business doing what they just did to us. The body has to unlearn. The heart has to unlearn. The mind has to unlearn. But God's healing power is strong. His desire to heal us is unflagging. So we go to safe people, receive love and prayer and therapy and we unlearn the bad stuff and learn the good stuff. It takes time.

So dear one, I had a lot of bad stuff to unlearn. Of course, the wish from my deep heart for you and for every other woman is that you don't have such horrid messages to unlearn. That you can entrust your self to the care of God and entrust your body and heart to the loving tender erotic care of your husband, unleash your feminine force on him and together have the time of your lives! That's the idea, darling!

(big smile)SW

One more thing, as a 30 year old single lady you are most welcome here. My welcome message asks that those under 18 invite their mom to come enjoy my blog or come back when they are older. Hot married sex is worth waiting for, trust me! You are over 18 and desiring healthy sex. So darlin' you are welcome to hang out here and read. I'd love to be a part of your journey toward healthy hot sex with your husband. I'd be honored!

My shingles never bonded together—why eroticism is important in marriage

Yesterday a roofer came out to inspect my roof and put up a tarp to prevent further damage. When he showed me one of the shingles that had blown off my roof, he told me my roof was not bonded properly and the whole roof would have to be replaced. Bonded properly? What does that mean? Well I'll tell you.

A roof is made up of hundreds of shingles that overlap and together protect the underlying plywood from wind and rain. Each shingle is made of tarpaper bonded to granules. Each shingle has a stripe of tar that acts as glue to bond each shingle together. Now, when the shingles are being stored in a warehouse or on their way to the site, the roofer doesnt' want the shingles to bond together then. If they did, instead of a package of useful shingles, the roofer would have a great big brick of melted together shingles. So, the manufacturer puts on a protective plastic strip over the strip of tar to prevent the tar from sticking to the other shingles in the package.

When the roofer is ready to nail the shingles on the plywood of someone's home to make a roof, the protective plastic strip is removed from each shingle, exposing the stripe of tar that will bond the shingle with the shingle it overlaps. The heat of the sun melts the tar and bonds the two shingles together.

When my roof was installed a few years ago, the roofer who installed my roof did not peel away any of the protective strips from the stripe of tar on my shingles. My shingles were individually nailed down to the plywood, but my shingles never bonded together. So when the storm came, they were much more easily separated from each other. They peeled off and blew away, leaving my plywood exposed and allowing water to pour into my attic and into my home.

Wow does this remind me of marriage!

I've said for years that sex is the glue that bonds a husband and wife together. It's true that love is a choice and the value of an allies-till-death committment cannot be downplayed. But as my roof analogy shows, it takes both commmittment (nailing down the shingles to the plywood) and sex (allowing heat to bond each shingle together) to make roof that can stand up to the storms of life.

I think about my roof. For years I looked at it, and it looked just fine. All the shingles were in neat rows and safely nailed down. But under the surface, they were not bonded. Each shingle was holding something of themselves back. Not allowing heat to melt a part of them and fuse them together. For years, my marriage was like that. I had the nailed down committment but I had not allowed the heat of marital eroticism to melt me and bond me together with my husband in such a deep way. Oh, we loved each other! We were committed to each other. We had a good marriage. But in order to experience the bond we have today, I had to peel away the protective layers around my heart and allow my body and soul to experience the heat of eroticism with my husband. Bonding cost me something. I had to allow my self to get hot enough to get to the melting point. Experiencing truly hot eroticism takes some personal growth. David Schnarch's book Passionate Marriage taught me that. And there's a beautiful healthy balance. The entire shingle is not gluey tar. Each shingle is still an individual. That's differentiation. When two healthy separate individuals choose to nail down their marriage with committment and also allow the heat of erotic love to melt them and bond them together, the storms of life won't easily separate them.

Here's to being hot, committed and bonded!
Love,
Shula

Desire Purpose and Direction all Come Together

When was a teenager at youth missions training camp, one of the speakers said the following:
Someday, soon, all your desire, purpose and direction will all come together.
—Jim Graaf 1987

That was 21 years ago and I remember it—every word.
and here we are.
Those words seem especially, beautifully true today.

My doctor—a lovely brilliant psychiatrist who has taken care of me for ten years—told me this week that I'm the poster child for recovery from abuse and depression. Her comment surprised me as I was just in for a routine med check I didn't expect to talk about the last ten years, just the last 6 months. But she said it and after a brief flash of shyness I smiled, because I knew it was true.

Then she asks me if I'm writing a book to tell my story because I should.
I tell her yes I am and that I have also been writing a blog for over a year. She smiles and says 'creating a high quality blog takes a lot of work and creative energy' and 'you've worked really hard for this. you should be really proud of yourself'.

I paused and took a deep breath and looked in her kind intelligent eyes and said "Healing is its own reward. But I do receive your affirmation."

We part with smiles on both our faces.

I beam silently all the way to the car. Pausing briefly to stand in the office building lobby and remember all the times I have walked past this lobby to her office. Twenty times at least, ten years with every 6 month med checks and a few extra if I was having a bad episode. I think of the meds I no longer take because I no longer need them. I think about the maintenance meds I do take and how gratefully even keel I am now. How good my normal is. And I start for a split second to tear up with sentiment then I say 'no, this is all about celebration' and I stand there silent and hug myself inside and tell the woman inside of me how proud I am of her. I hear Himself whispering love in my thoughts"Baby girl I am so very very very very very very proud of you." I think of all the times I wanted to give up and didn't. And I smile with joy that can find no words.

I want to jump and cheer like my team just won the Superbowl, but there is a solemn feeling that keeps me from doing so. I think of all the horror and grief I waded through to get to this point and solemn joy seems the appropriate response.

I start to call some of my dearest friends to share the moment, but I close the phone and wait. I have such a profound sense of this being a moment just me and God. I walk to the car and then decide it's time to call Delighted Husband. He's been with me for many years of my journey. Our conversation is brief and affectionate. His pager goes off midsentence and we part with quick iloveyou's.

I have the feeling that something momentous has happened and I feel the urge to do like they did in the Old Testament and build an altar. Pile up some stones and scratch out a plaque that says, "Here God did something for me." Something tangible. So I ask Himself what do I do seeing as how piling up boulders really isn't an option for me. He says, "let's go shopping." So Himself takes me shopping at Target looking for something special to remember this day. "You'll know it when you see it" he says. I go straight to the lingerie department—my natural habitat—but nothing feels particularly "it". I feel led walk over to the athletic section of the store and I pick out 4 adorable colorful jogbras and a matching running skort. A size I couldn't fit 6 months ago.

And I remember for a split second how remarkable it is that celebration and rewarding myself does not automatically equal food. And I grin at this private joke and say to Himself in a teasing tone of voice, "Show off!!" because he really has shown off his power in me.

Our Bodies Matter to Jesus

As some of you may imagine, one of the most frequent search engine terms that bring readers to my blog is the "sensuous"+"posted in blog". I clicked on this search this morning, and found a daisy chain of beautiful thoughts which I will share with you today.

The first link that caught my eye was "God's Sensuous Prescence". Y'all know, I am all about God and all about sensuous, so of course I was curious. This beautiful article is what I found:

"Men had turned from the contemplation of God above, and were looking Him in the opposite direction, down among created things and things of sense. The Saviour of us all, the Word of God, in His great love took to Himself a body and moved as Man among men, meeting their senses, so to speak, half way. He became Himself an object for the senses, so that those who were seeking God in sensible things might apprehend the Father through the works which He, the Word of God, did in the body."

At first glance this sounded at once beautiful and potentially sacreligious. Because when my woman-who-was-sexually-abused brain hears the words "an object for the senses", I recoil. But there was that beautiful phrase "in His great love took to Himself a body" and I believe that lock, stock and barrell, so I deliberately let go of my CSA thoughts and took another closer look. And what I saw astounded me with it's beauty.

I visualized my beloved Jesus extending his hand to Thomas, such a human loving inclusive gesture all by itself, and then he speaks "don't believe it's really me? Touch me. it's me, Thomas. Touch me, and remember all the many other times you touched my hand and were comforted. It's me. really. Touch me, and believe."

Of course, by then, poignant tears had gathered in my eyes and I was on board with the phrase "He became Himself an object for the senses." Oh yes he did. And there's my favorite name for Jesus too, Himself. A gift with purchase. Confirmation.

I wanted to hear more, so I clicked on the link provided by the blog author Eric Daryl Meyer (shown here with he and his wife. look at them! aren't they precious?)

This took me to Faith and Theology, a guest post by Oliver Davies. And what a treasure trove I found there!

Get a load of this!

"We constantly treat Christianity as though it were a philosophy or a work of literature (I am not against philosophy or literature) rather than a disclosure to practical intellect which calls us into the radical freedom of action in and for Christ in the world (i.e. the ascended, wounded and glorified Christ). Faith is faith in Christ who acts rather than thinks."

Seriously, y'all. I don't wanna just be smarter. I wanna be CHANGED.

Wait, there's more.

Instead of allowing ourselves to be opened up to the revelation of Christ in the world, communicated through command at work through the senses and the particularity of space and time events ("the command of grace", in Janz's phrase), we focus on the mind as the place of insight, generativity and meaning.

I'll tell you what this means to me. All my life, up until the point of my spiritual and sexual awakening, I thought it was true "Spirit good, mind good, body bad." I really did. As hard to believe as these words sound now, coming from from a woman who experiences God in every orgasm and feels the sweet nearness of the Spirit in every cool breeze on my sweaty face when I run, I used to really believe that. The condition of my heart, the condition of my marriage, the quality of how despised or cherished my sexuality was to me is a living lab test of what those ideas look like in behavior. When I believed my body was bad and my mind was good, I shrank from every touch from my husband and generally rolled my eyes at the depravity of man every time he got an erection. I'm not proud to admit it, but that was my reality. Oh but I was a good Christian girl who "selflessly ministered to her husband" by laying there and taking it. What a martyr! Not even good enough to be called a real martyr either, like Jim Elliot or the first disciple to be stoned to death, because I was laying down and dying for a cause that was contrary to scripture and so FAR from the life of joy God had called me to! What a senseless wasteful non-God-honoring martyr.

But you know my Jesus, he loves us just as we are and loves us too much to leave us that way. Read on.

"And here the third problem arises which follows from the first two: we have lost an understanding of the way we can and should access and be attentive to the presence of Christ in this way. We constantly bypass with mind the very place in which he is present for us in the here and now, which is to do with the senses and with command, since this is a place where the mind does not necessarily want to go."

Yes! Yes! Yes! I used to do that all the time, and folks, I'll tell you why. Because of my own sin and the sin of others, my senses were associated for me with sensations of pain, emotions of pain, shame, doubt, fear, self-loathing and just an overall sense of "ugh get me outta here". Maybe some of you can relate.

But here's the good part. Jesus still lives. And His Lordship in the nitty gritty details of our lives is the way we are to live not just as prescription (take 2 pills and call me in the morning) but as invitation. Invitation to the path to healing we are walk (come walk with me this way my darling and let me heal you, my love). That's my paraphrase and I paraphrase it that way because I have lived it that way. This is the path I've been walking for 16 years.

Oliver Davies puts it this way:

"Getting it" entails seeing that incarnational revelation still comes to us through the senses ("Jesus still lives, and his Lordship in the particularity of our lives is the mode for us of that life"), and that the senses cannot be absorbed without remainder into mind. Thus ascension allows that our faith in Christ can be far closer to that of the apostles than we might ordinarily admit, not on our own account, but on account of the nature of the transformation effected in Christ. Doctrinally (theologically) and anthropologically (philosophically) we have lost the tools and practices which help us to "recognise" him in his transformed state in the everyday reality of our lives where he comes to meet us.

As so often happens in my reading since the internet, I connected the dots between three unrelated poets and writers that from my point of view seem tailor made for each other. On one hand we have these brilliant intellectuals—theology professor no less!— saying in essence, "Excuse me, everybody. Something precious has been lost. And I'm going to do my darndest to show you what and how and show you why and more importantly, show you how to get it back."

For as I read the scholarly article, I remembered the last time—the only time—I've heard a scholar talk about these ideas. It was when I heard Christopher West speak about Theology of the Body at a Created and Redeemed Seminar. I remember Christopher's main point being "Jesus had a real body and our bodies are important because God Almighty thought to inhabit one so we should believe our body is important too and inhabit it well and with truth and honor." That is my paraphrase after attending the 7 hour seminar. (By the way, I do not believe that using birth control violates this cherished concept, since I believe any lovemaking between a husband and wife has the fruit of pleasure and oneness if not the fruit of children) So first as I'm reading, I'm reminded of Theology of the Body.

And then, I'm reminded of the song I sang in church last week. The song that so grounded me and comforted me by reminding me that every area of my life matters to God and is inhabited by God. The song that gave me opportunity to respond to this newfound hope and comfort by pouring our my adoration upon Jesus, or as we say in the South, "singin' my little heart out". Listen to this!

God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping

God in my resting
there in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

God in my hoping
there in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting

God in my laughing
there in my breathing
God in my hurting
God in my healing

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me
the hope of glory
you are everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me
the hope of glory
be my everything

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

God in my hoping
there in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting

God in my laughing
there in my breathing
God in my hurting
God in my healing

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything
you are everything

So yes, beloved friends, our bodies matter. They matter to Jesus too, as he—by living in us—inhabits our bodies every single day. And everything we do in these bodies matters very VERY much! If it's sin that we're doing with our bodies—slapping our children, abandoning our husbands in the marriage bed, or using drugs or food or the absence of food to numb our aching hearts— we need grace and healing to get to the root of that sin and let Jesus heal us. And if it's not sin that we're doing with our bodies—laying our cool hand on our child's fevered brow, welcoming our husbands and drawing them into our body with passion and tenderness, or caring for and cherishing our bodies in beautiful small ways like eating with gratitude in an attitude of self-care—then we are in the acts of doing these very things, bringing the hands and love of Christ into our world, which is a humbling, immensely gorgeous thing to think about.

Isn't it?

Love,
SW

Epilogue:
Parenting
Once in the course of my life as a mother I lost my temper and slapped one of my children. It was listed as a sin in the article and also listed as a sin I am living in active repentance of. I don't refuse my husband anymore or do emotional eating anymore either. I don't believe there's a mother alive that hasn't lost her temper and slapped her child once or been sorely tempted to do so. But my experience of losing my temper like that disturbed me enough that I took myself to a licensed marriage and family therapist and learned some better parenting strategies. I also took my child to a child therapist and got some treatment for them and we're all doing much better on that regard. The licensed marriage and family therapist who treated me counseled me that my unresolved guilt over slapping my child that one time was far harmful to my effectiveness as a parent than the slap itself because that guilt gave me a propensity to cave into their demands and not keep firm loving boundaries. I hope any parent who reads my story will not hesitate to seek wise counsel for their parenting challenges.

Singles
I want to cherish my single readers by saying that there are many beautiful ways use use our bodies to bring the hands and love of Christ into our world, many many more than the 3 ways I listed. The reason that drove what I listed as ways to bring love is that I began with listing 3 ways I personally used my body to sin and 3 ways I used my body to repent and to love. You're not excluded, beloved darlings, or exempt from embodying the love of Christ just because you are not a wife or mommy. Never meant to imply that, beloved. Not in a hundred years did I mean to imply that. (squeeze your hand and look you in the eye for good measure) Love, SW

Warmth and Light

it's been more clear to me lately how important it is for me to shine my radiance and feel the light and warmth inside. And it's become increasingly clear how I can't make it happen by myself. All the radiance I ever shine, all the warmth and light I feel and share isn't my radiance at all. It's on permanent loan from God, I just have to renew my subscription. Check in and charge up.

And quite often the charging up I receive comes from people in my life.

But, and this is SO subtle, sometimes there can be this tiny or big shift in my heart and I start to look to the people in my life as if they are the source all feelgoodness or okayness or validation instead of perhaps being a frequent messenger from Himself. So I start to look to them instead of Himself and of course I am disspointed. What human—glorious and frail we may be—can compare with Himself?

So I start to feel cold and stung and dissapointed.

When the silent seismic shift took place in my own heart. It is my deal.

Then I remember this familiar ache and by the loving prompting of Spirit, I remember "hmmm, the last time I felt this achy sawdust in my heart it was because I turned one of the people that I love into an idol."

Ohhhhhhh

Then I bump Himself back to the head of the line where he belongs as primary lover in my life. And then all the other ones who love me look so precious and appealing and new. And I feel that borrowed radiance shining inside me again. Subscription renewed. Shine on!

and beloved Sara Groves said it better than I ever could, so I'll leave you with her sweet voice and haunting words.

I am the moon with no light of my own
still you have made me to shine
and as I glow in this cold dark night
I know I cannot be a light unless I turn my face to you

cause everywhere you are is warmth and light

Oh! It happens every time! Everytime I feel all alive and full of warmth and light, there are two things I want to do right away. I want to sing to Himself then I want to make love to Delighted Husband. Spread that warmth and light all over his dear self! ;)

Love y'all.
Have a good weekend!
-SW

Why do we cry when we come?

Why do we cry?
Why do we cry when we come? Not every time, perhaps, but why do we sob in those gasping tender moments just after?

It is because we have desired and desired and desired and desired hoping with a fierce burning white hot longing and then….we were not disappointed!to the relief of the soul!

Our soul so profoundly relieved to have displayed our desire so vulnerably and having our desire not abandoned or left to go hungry, but instead having our desire met with recognition and eager urgent nurture.

Our soul’s profound relief when our lover offers us themself unhurried yet urgent, unaware of time but completely absorbed in the tenuous interplay of desire and pleasure, pleasure and desire, asked and answered.

What relief of the soul can be found in the embrace of a lover who wants nothing more than to watch our pleasure unfold, shiver by delicious whimpering shiver.

And then we want and want and want and want our lover’s glorious urgency to keep going for we will surely die if they stop.

And then the exultant cry as we are surprised by a joy we intently, secretly, then openly longed for but we really only hoped existed.

(another excerpt from Erotic Mystic: Musings on God and Sex)

Revival (sequel to Come Just As You Are)

sequel to Come Just As You Are



Afterglow was nothing less than a revival.
His sweat and my tears made me clean.
Baptism.

Just like I would at a revival, I began to weep for joy at the profoundly good overwhelming of being seized by the power of a great affection. The experience of being so deeply known in all my glory and imperfection and so deeply loved. The point wasn't being perfect. The point was being perfectly one.

I lay there reeling in afterglow grasping and caressing his forearm and hand. I didn't fondle him. I read him like braille. Savoring memory imprinted in body and soul from the countless times I had felt his hands on me, seen them, touched them. I began to recount the innumerable ways his hands have loved me. And I began to weep over them, kiss them with the devotion and passion of the woman washing Jesus' feet with her tears. In gasping little sobs, I recounted the story of his hands and the story of him as a man, and the story of us.

• These are the hands who work so hard to provide for me.
• These are the hands that caress my cheek, mold around my cheek in a palmed embrace.
• These are the hands who held our wet wriggling children after they emerged from me in the birth chamber.
• These are the hands who unconsciously pat my butt when he is deeply lost in sleep.
• These are the hands who open my door for me, car doors, restaurant doors, career doors, church doors, any and every door, for years without fail.
• These are the hands who wash the dishes after I have spent my energy in a fit of culinary creative passion.
• These are the hands that wordlessly grasp the tray or book that is slipping out of my grasp.
• These are the hands that steady me when I nearly lose my purchase on an icy sidewalk.
• These are the hands that when clasped with mine produce a powerful surge of erotic joy and friendly companionship from the very first handhold.
• These are the hands that have carried boxes into our new home after signing endless documents at closing.
• These are the hands that I hold without concious thought on every date whether that date is a grand fete or a watching a netflix movie snuggled on the couch.
• These are the hands that placed two ice chips in my dry panting mouth during the few precious seconds that punctuated each contraction.
• These are the hands that hold my Bible for me while we read together in church.
• These are the hands that do open-heart surgery on my computer when it is sick and make it well again.
• These are the hands that push the mower, wield the paintbrush, grasp the pressure-washer wand to keep our home presentable and inviting without ever being asked.
• These are the hands that press a proud jealous claim into the small of my back when we are out together on a date.
• These are the hands that clap for me when he sits in the second row of each and all of my performances.
• These are the hands that unconciously open like petals shyly blooming as he offers his worship to God when he thinks no one else is watching because his eyes are closed.
• These are the hands that press countless Christmas lights into the eaves of our home's second story because he knows I feel a child's delight for Christmas lights so he gives it to me as a gift even though he could go without them every year and be perfectly happy.

It is these hands, so integrated into every chink and curve of my life that have just pressed into every chink and curve of my body and called forth a resounding sexual response I didn't know I possessed. It is the wholeness, the absolute integrated nature of our love that leaves me weeping in revival. The breathtaking scope of lifelong love with fucking being a natural spot on the wheel of loving. He loves me with his hands in the full spectrum of life. It's in this sacred vernacular that I am loved by this man loved by his hands in every conceivable way. Is it any wonder I weep for joy?

Come Just As You Are

Sometimes your best-laid plans going off-course is the best thing that could happen to you.

I had a major diva moment planned for this evening. I had been planning to think sex all day and I even took the day off of work to allow that to happen. But this was the busiest day off I've ever had. I love audiobooks, they're such a great companion along the busy day. So knowing I had loads of domestic goddess stuff to accomplish today, I was Proactive Polly and bought a romantic audiobook this morning so I could "whistle while you work" so to speak while I ran errands and did the laundry and paid bills. The blasted thing wouldn't work. Oh it would work on my computer, it just wouldn't work on my PDA or MP3 player. And since I can't lug my computer around with me all day, then for all practical purposes, the audiobook wouldn't work. I kept trying. In between errands and counselor appointment and lunch and laundry and I would take a crack at it every couple hours or so. No go. After the kids came home from school, I managed to sneak off for a hot bath with candles and perfume and that did the trick. I finally managed to get out of my head and into my body. Ah. Sigh of relief. SW is finally ready for DH.
Then.
The cellphone rings and it's the difficult customer from hell. Calling me on my day off because son-of-a-biscuit-eater! I am still on call. This customer is complaining like I owe them the moon when I am the one doing them an extra special favor from the get-go. But to hear them tell it, I have ruined their weekend and they are ready to take their favorhogging business elsewhere. Which to tell the truth, leaving would be the kindest most decent thing they could ever do for me. Let them go favor someone else adnauseum. But that's not how I was raised. I was raised to take the high road and let the customer win. To keep my promises and be noble and end on a good note. So I apologized where I could without outright lying and I promised to help them leave with all the loose ends tied up. You want to leave? Okay. Let's just have you leave the classy way not the bitchy way. Okay.

All this took a tremendous toll on my sexual mojo and my heart in general. And now it's nearly 6 o'clock. I have this great Mata Hari seduction scene planned and I can't get anywhere close to horny.

I'll skip the dinner and parenting moments except to say that they were positive and loving and took twice as long as usual thereby sucking up the time I planned to spend revamping my mojo by taking another bubble bath (hey it worked the first time) or reading a good old printed page romance novel.

DH came home early to find me reading Harry Potter to the kids wearing a green mask and pajamas.

But I had so many plans for this evening!
I was going to be the confident grand seductress!
So I hustle into the closet looking for a negligee the way Superman looks for a cape.
My precious momentum is shot. I feel discombobulated and frantic.
I hustle into the bathroom to put on a little lipstick and confidence.
When I emerge from the bathroom, he makes all kinds of approving happy sounds.
We begin to snuggle and I began to cry. I realize that lovemaking is like worship. We show up as we are. Happy, hungry, confident or broken, we show up and offer all that we are to our beloved. Just as we are without one plea. DH doesn't need a Mata Hari performance. Although he will surely enjoy one if I feel that I want to do some confident seduction. But I realized that, like God, all DH wants from me is me.
What a relief.
So we lay there entwined and told him I had hoped to be my confident sexy horny self and had taken deliberate steps toward helping that happen but that instead the woman in our bed tonight was loving tired stressed and willing. To him that was more than enough. He began to...well I want to cherish him by not giving you the blow-by-blow. I'll just say he began to adore me and enjoy me and I found myself aroused inspite of how far down the path the cares of this world had pulled me, he drew me back. Closer to home and closer and closer and closer. He, my most dearly beloved, made me do things and make sounds I didn't know I was capable of. It was a long road, much longer than usual, but his body is the roadmap to joy, his sexy grin is the beacon to the homeport, and he drew me out and helped me come home.

That derailed seduction scene turned out to be one of the most emotionally spiritually intimate and satisfying moments of my life.
Sometimes you "bring it".
Sometimes you come just as you are.

Gift-Giving

I learn so much—such spiritual insight is revealed in the process of gift-giving.
When I bought the gift, I imagined the person's needs and desires and picked something that would meet a need or want or bless them unexpectedly in some way. All I wanted was for them to enjoy it and feel my love for them in their enjoyment.
I found people's different reactions to my gifts very poignant. Very telling.

One gift recipient gave me a look of annoyance and said, "I thought we talked about this and agreed we weren't going to do this." I gave them something beautiful and they chided me. It hurt. Not as much as you might think, but it hurt. I was mostly sad and more than a bit mystified by the worldview that sees a gift given generously with a heart of love as a chideable offense. What kind of person sees love and grows indignant?

Then there's this reaction.
I gave my favorite old school technophobe her first mp3 player loaded with every album of her favorite artist. She smiled shyly, and said, "You'll have to teach me how to use it" as she began to push buttons with random curiosity. But as soon as the earphones were in her ears and she heard the music, she blissed out right there in the midst of the noisy gameroom. A freight train could have driven by the sofa and she would have paid no attention. Her sister smiled and commented to me, "I think you can consider this a hit."

My favorite response was the child who couldn't get the pom-poms I gave her out of the box fast enough. She ran the box over to her Daddy for him to manhandle the box. Once she had the pom-poms out of the box, she put on a little show for us right there in the living room. Not that she was trying to impress us. No. She was just so unashamed and uninhibited in her joy that she didn't mind if we saw her and if we wanted to laugh with delight or applaud, well that was fine too.

Typing this post today, it is more pregnant with meaning than it was when I scribbled the gist of the post the day after Christmas. Especially in the light of the questions I just raised in my last post. Because I see the heart of God so clearly in these words, "All I wanted was for them to enjoy it and feel my love for them in their enjoyment." God has given me two marvelous gifts. The gift to perceive and experience erotic love with my husband. And the gift to communicate my feelings thoughts and experiences using words. Maybe all God wants from me as the recipient of his gifts is to enjoy them and to feel His love for me in my enjoyment.

He gives generously, after anticipating our needs and desires. And what pleases Him most is when we receive his gift, delight in it, and don't get hung up on paying him back, just enjoy. And a thank you thrown in with our whoops of delight brings gladness to His heart.

And I learned so much from my little girl with the pom-poms. Not that she was trying to impress us. No. She was just so unashamed and uninhibited in her joy that she didn't mind if we saw her and if we wanted to laugh with delight or applaud, well that was fine too. Sounds like a good attitude for me to adopt when I decide to post a report from the field of erotic joy.

To quote my friend Eleutheros, "God, I love being Human!"

Rhythm of Life

It's give and take
the dance of life
endless rhythm
pulsing all around us
through us
the song you dance
in
and not
to.

I wept two times today.
Both times sincerely and deeply.
First, I wept this morning
in my neighbor's kitchen.
She invited me over
for coffee
and surprized me
with a breathtaking angel sculpture
earthy and living
in her rough-hewn wooden beauty.
The note read
"I pray for you
and your family
every day.
I am so thankful
for your friendship.
I love you."

Blindsided by her unexpected gift
I wept
as I received
her tenderness.
Wondrous surprise
thinking yourself
liked
then
finding yourself
loved
with deep true affection.
Is there anything like it in all the world?
An infusion of life force.
She gave out her love energy
and I took it into my heart
received it fully
embraced her energy
embraced her.

I wept again this afternoon.
For another girlfriend
as she shared
of the cold and lonely
standoff
she and her husband
are frozen in, stuck in
like cold sticky mud
engulfing a wagon wheel
leaving love stranded.

I wept for her
not that I willed it
or tried to
but I let the tears come
as they wanted.
Releasing
this flood of sympathy
and urgent desire
that God would anoint my tears
use them
to wash away the mud
holding her and her man captive
make them
unstuck
freed up
to love one another again.

I wept because holding it back
would be painful.
I wept and prayed
until God let me know
I was done.

Then
buoyed up
by the peace
that only comes
from letting the life force inside you
come out
toward the one you're giving your love to
I felt my heart
voluptous
beautiful
exquisitely alive
dancing
with calm self-possession.
As though
I could feel
the heartbeats
within me
thrumming
like a far off drum:
give-take-give-take-give-take-give-take

This is the rhythm of life.
The wordless tune
that love sings
in our heart
in our blood.

I thought of my husband
grateful for him
recalling
all the sticky mud
God washed off us
freed us from.

I realized the rhythm of life
is Eros
pulsing life force
of the heart
give-take-give-take-give-take-give-take

I saw the metaphor
how intercourse
embodies this rhythm.
and I wanted him.
Inside me.
Now.

Erotic Mystic: Musings on God and Sex...Part 2

"To the extent that a man and woman have settled for a dull genital relationship, they have settled for a marriage that is a very inadequate reflection of God's love for mankind."
—Andrew Greeley, Sexual Intimacy Love and Play

What happens well or doesn't happen well or maybe doesn't happen between the marital sheets means far more than whether or not we had a good time. Way more. The dynamics of the bedroom (or the kitchen or game room) have great implications on the rest of our lives. When sex is good, the lighthearted dynamics spill over into every other area of our lives. When sex is bad, or doesn't happen for an extended drought, the dreary impoverished dynamics spill over into every other area of our lives.

I've known this by experience for quite some time. But Andrew takes it further, making the bold claim that the timbre tone and quality of married sex is a reflection of God's love for mankind. The wordless spirit atmosphere of a home where generous satisfying sex dwells says essentially, "God is a good generous God and there is plenty of love in this world and goodness happens on a regular basis."

In other words, it's not all about us. The life we live screams either doom or hope to those who are watching and listening to our nonverbal dialogs with our spouse.

Andrew Greeley goes on to say:
"It is to be presumed that most married couples do not view the art of sexual intercourse as a reflection of Yahweh's fidelity, after all, it occurs in the privacy of their bedroom with the door closed and the lights dim. How could they possibly believe that improving their skills at bringing each other pleasure reflects God's implacable commitment to his people?

They don't think of these things, in all likelihood, because nobody has ever suggested to them that the quality of their love —of which sexual intercourse is of course at the very center—is the most effective way they have of revealing God's love to the rest of the world. To the extent that [a husband and wife] are committed to improving the surprise and pleasure, the excitement, the challenge of what goes on between the sheets, then they are reflecting God's commitment to his people."

Good sex takes time, loving dedication, focused adoring attention, faithfulness, passion and steadfast commitment to learn your partner's body by heart. All of these are characteristics of the God who invented sex. Imagine that! Art is a window into the heart of the artist. And the character traits of good sex tell us volumes about the heart of the good God that created sex. -SW

Erotic Mystic: Musings on God and Sex

I was fascinated by this quote by artist Tom Cubbage:

"You have an Irish Catholic background. How did you resolve the conflict between that upbringing and your shooting nudes?
I finally figured out that if it (portraying nudes) was good enough for the Sistine Chapel, then it wasn't going to hurt me to do it. In Oklahoma here, we’re very much in the Bible Belt, and you don’t have camera clubs doing figure art... It's some of the best art there is, so if you want to do it, you just need to forget about what people say.
On my website, I have an article about the time I was working with a model who was in the middle of an emotional crisis. At first I thought, "This isn’t going to work." But we kept talking and, while we were, I just kept shooting. I came away with… beautiful and haunting pictures… in which you could touch the pain.
When I look back on that experience, it’s hard to say there’s anything wrong with doing figure art… It (the experience) had so much spirituality and God presence in it. There are a lot of people who go to church on Sunday because they know that's what they're supposed to do, and I don’t think they ever have an encounter with a living God. Yet there are photographers who have this experience whenever they shoot nudes. I don’t know how you can explain it to those who haven’t experienced this, but if you’ve been there and it's happened, then you know it."

Why do I think the human body could contain so much God presence in it?
Because women are created by the Master Artist. and if your heart is in the right place, you can notice and applaud the artist's handiwork and praise the artist not the art. That's easier for me to say because I am straight as an arrow so I can look at a female nude and experience artistic joy not sexual attraction. But there's something there. There's that glimpse of Eden when you see a glimpse of Original Created Glory. Back when we were all naked and unashamed because there was no sin in the world and therefore nothing icky or shameful about nudity.

I say this having endured years of sexual abuse from boys who were influenced and driven by porn. I know what porn can do (victimless crime pshaw!) but this ain't porn. Not all artistic representations of the human body are porn. And there's a beauty lost that's reclaimed by this kind of art. And I am exceedingly grateful.

Beauty reclaimed is one of my favorite things on earth. -SW

Allies Til Death, Part Two

for I have said before that you are in our hearts to die together and to live together.

2 Corinthians 7:1-4 "1 Therefore, having these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God. 2 Make room for us in your hearts; we wronged no one, we corrupted no one, we took advantage of no one. 3 I do not speak to condemn you, for I have said before that you are in our hearts to die together and to live together. 4 Great is my confidence in you; great is my boasting on your behalf. I am filled with comfort; I am overflowing with joy in all our affliction."

What does this have to do with marriage?
Plenty.

Who else? Above all other humans, who else? In all relationships in my life, none other should characterize this kind of supercharged dedication more than my relationship with Delighted Husband.

So lemme just say it right here and now: "Baby, you are in my heart to live together and to die together. I choose you above all other humans. We are Allies Till Death."

This is where the sweet abandon in the bedroom comes from. We don't just like each other. We're not just attracted to each other. We don't just tolerate each other. We don't just love each other. We are allies till death. This kind of supercharged dedication is the mattress we rest and play on. This is where nudity becomes the sacred naked. When each touch, every whispered scream, each sensation is an affirmation and celebration of our alliance, that's when God's glory falls all around us, turning our bedroom into a cathedral built for two. -SW

Sex and Worship: the doctor(s) are in

I'll be talking about this subject a lot from time to time. Just remembered a great article I read not too long ago with some great insight. The author interviewed 4 sex therapists who are in private practice together in Atlanta. One of the therapists is the oft-quoted Dr. Rosenau whose book happily resides on my recommended list. Here's what they had to say:
[quote]

Q: You talk about worshiping God through sex. How can couples embrace that idea?
A: Christopher: Connect it to the scriptural principle of feasts. In the Old Testament God ordained feasts to celebrate his glory. What's a feast? It's eating sumptuous foods, drinking fine wines. If you do that without the right spirit, you get gluttony and drunkenness, and God is certainly not going to be worshiped. But if you worship in a feast while still having discipline, still having boundaries, God says he's greatly glorified.
Marital union is meant to be a feast—look at the Song of Songs. There's so much metaphor that is about feasting and fine wines and good rich foods. See it as another type of bodily feast as the two "consume" each other. It's the consummation of their oneness. They offer themselves for consummation, and God is glorified.

A: Doug: And that requires making sure couples give themselves permission to learn those disciplines—the discipline of feasting, of playfulness, of sensuality—and give themselves permission to be erotic, to be truly naked and unashamed.

A: Michael: A couple can really drink in and enjoy each other. But that means they have to slow down. They have to tune in to the sensuality of it, which is part of the beauty of it all.

Q: So just to bring this all back around. Playful sex can be worshipful sex?
A: Debra: Oh, yeah.

A: Michael: Very highly.

Q: Comfort sex can be worshipful sex.
A: Debra: Oh, yes.

Q: Quickie sex can be worshipful sex?
A: Debra: Yes, yes.

A: Christopher: Because we're talking about making love, not simply having sex, and it's flowing out of the rest of the spirit of the marriage. If they've been playful throughout the day, with little kitchen hugs, and notes in the lunch, or phone calls, or e-mails, or anything that is playful and loving—not necessarily sexual—then it naturally connects.

A: Doug: Structured optimal time for sex, such as every Friday night, can be worshipful like going to church from 10:30 to 12:00 on Sunday morning. But if all we have is structured time with God and never just hang out and "waste" time with him, we're probably never going to have the worship we'd like. Sometimes you have to do more than that 15 minutes or 45 minutes and have that wasting time together. It's all worshipful, but sometimes to get the connecting, intimate worship, you've got to do the extended time, too."

Dontcha just love that? Those guys and gal have got it goin' on! Heads and hearts in the right place and some counseling and marriage experience to boot!

The emphasis on Christopher's comment was mine, when he said "and it's flowing out of the rest of the spirit of the marriage." I think that's important. For many reasons. First of all, it's important that we are loving and enjoying and honoring and caring for our spouse all the time, not just while making love, and that we do so with an attitude of thankfulness and joy towards God. Second of all, I'm a wife and I write about hot married sex from that perspective. When I've experienced unfettered joy and worship during sex it was sex with my husband. Funny the details I forgot to mention when I was all starry-eyed and typing a mile-a-minute! -SW

Sex as an act of worship

It's so cool how someone else's sharing can call forth something you want to share. I read a post on this subject over at Spiritual Sensuality and immediately my words and thoughts spilled eagerly onto the page. I didn't have to bite my lip or squinch up my eyebrows and trytocomeupwithsomething. It was just there, waiting to be said. So thank you, Lydia.

This is a concept very near and dear to my heart. I've been writing about this topic for years as I've spent the last fifteen years surrendering to Jesus and letting him heal me from sexual abuse and all kinds of junk. After fifteen years I finally have the courage to believe that all this journaling I've shared up till now only with God, my therapist, my husband and spiritual director that I could be unshamed and confident enough to share with other people. (smile) that's you! :)

So all this journaling on sex and worship is shaping into a devotional book titled Erotic Mystic: Musings on God and Sex. When you look at this topic from the perspective of an "old married lady" LOL who's been making love to the same man for ten years, this subject is common to nearly everyone. Why do you think most of us cry out the word "OH MY GOD" at the point of orgasm? It's because in the face of something so beautifully overwhelming we reach for God. To anchor us in the midst of such dizzying pleasure and to receive our thanks. I believe that crying out to God from the depth of our being is worship.

There is more to this subject than that-(I seem to think so anyway cause I've been wrestling with or celebrating the subject for 15 years)-but I thought the OMG cry at climax shows what a common human experience sex and worship often is. -SW