I gave myself roses and chocolate

Oh y'all what a delightful ending to a long but good day~

I spent most of my day working in the office of my new consulting client. (see Holy Crap! I'm a self-employed single mama) While I'm thrilled with the way my store is doing, it will be a while until the store can sustain DC and me. So in the meantime, I'm reviving my corporate career and looking for gigs. I delivered some great results to my client today. They were so happy with the results I showed them that they gave me a raise on the spot. Wow! When I arrived back on my side of town, it had been 16 hours since I left home this morning. Ready to chill, but contented, I decided that the only thing that would make this evening more perfect was Guittard Fair Trade Dark Chocolate. So i drove to the grocery store. When I entered the store, I saw that flowers were on sale at a significant discount. Y'all know me and flowers, right? That's when I saw them, the perfect coralpink color of roses that i like so much. And blue iris were the perfect contrast.

I moseyed over to the wine section to get another bottle of the fabulous red wine that I had enjoyed at my friend's house for dinner last week.

Then over to the baking aisle to get the chocolate. Guittard Fair Trade, dontchaknow? My mercy me!

I was standing in line at the checkout when i realized. It looks like I am going home to romance my man. These are the same kind of goodies I bought for years in my marriage. The kind of goodies that made me sing out "Honnnneeee look what IIIIII founnnnnd" I smiled because I realized there's not a reason in the world I shouldn't still do this. No longer for my husband but for myself. And that felt so darn good.

So I got home and realized dangit all I cannot find a vase. A single vase. My china cabinet used to have several nice vases and I bet those were lost in the divorce. I was really getting bummed that I had these gorgeous flowers and nowhere to put them. For a brief moment I actually considered putting the bouquet in the glass pitcher of the blender just to keep them alive. I couldn't let the poor darlings die. I prayed, "Oh God don't let me have gone this far with the Sacred Romance and have the flowers die because all the vases are with Ex. That's just wrong."

And then I remembered the basil.

When I had the sweetest couple and their two adorable children over for dinner they brought me fresh basil from their garden. In a vase. I had been so focused on the basil, I had forgotten the vase. So I washed out the vase and wouldn't ya know it-the roses and iris fit perfectly.

Here is what I learned:

God still loves me even though I do not live with Ex anymore. I experienced so much of God's love during my years as a wife, I had to realize that God's love and God validating my desire for romance are still alive and kicking now that I'm single again.

I still love me even though I don't live with Ex anymore. Doing sweet nurturing things for myself are really important now. Perhaps even more important than when Ex did them from time to time.

Just because my sexual and spiritual awakening occurred during my married era doesn't mean it all blew up in smoke with my divorce. Quite the contrary. Cause I need God now more than ever. The simple act of recognizing and acknowledging my desire-truly owning it-is an act of faith. It takes faith to want something you can't make happen yourself. It takes faith to let yourself want when you must depend on God to supply that want in his way and his time. Cause y'all know I want to enjoy a sexual relationship. It would seem like a tremendous waste for me to never again unleash my passion on a man I adore and to receive every drop of the love he wanted to give me. For me to never again do that? That's just wrong. Which brings me to depending so much on God, because I want that kind of sharing to occur with a man who wants to marry me and for the purpose of developing a lifelong bond. And who else but God can supply that?

It's clear to me that the this era of my life is about learning from what went wrong in my first marriage, healing my heart and offering it one day at a time. I feel that I'm ready to share more often here and I will. About how God is healing me and what I'm learning on this stage of my journey from sensuous wife to single mama while remaining sensuous and seeking God about being a wife again, it's sure to be anything but boring.

Love y'all,
Shula

Divorce

Darlings, I have waited several months until I felt free to speak. Y'all know I have been in grief since January and now I can tell you what I have been grieving. I have been grieving the loss of my marriage.

(waiting for the collective gasp of shock)

I know darlings, I know. I was shocked too. If someone would have told me Delighted Husband would ever have sex with another woman, I would have told them they were out of their mind, that my husband would never do that. My agony and grief cannot be adequately put into words. But I am 5 months into the grieving process and denial, anger, bargaining, sadness are giving way to acceptance. My marriage to Delighted Husband is over. I'm not sure what else to call him but calling him Delighted Husband feels inappropriate. Until another name presents itself, I'll call him Ex.

I want to have no hatred. I made up my mind in the moments just after he told me the news. In the midst of the clean pain, a good decision welled up in my heart. I decided I would not throw away my tenderness, that my heart would remain tender and beautiful and not be overrun with bitterness and hate. I thank God for that choice for it has served me well. I will not allow hatred or revenge to choke out my sexuality and to remove my capacity for joy.

I decided to go ahead with opening my store and continue my blog. My heart and my story did not cease to exist with the end of my marriage. Can I act from the generosity of spirit required to operate a store that promotes great married sex and helps couples enjoy something I can't enjoy right now? Yes, I can. My experience of betrayal and loss has strengthened my resolve to promote healthy sex as a beautiful alternative to adultery. I have experienced the joy and healing power of healthy sex and the horror and grief when sex goes off the rails, and I haven't thrown out my lingerie, my toys, or my feminine energy. I still believe.

My parents have been married more than 40 years. That's my normal. That's how I was raised. That's what I want. In my deep heart, I believe I will someday marry again.

I will survive. And then I will thrive. I've done that before. But you know that already, don't you darlings?
Lots of love,
Shula

Change the World

I woke up today with the song Change the World on my heart. It feels peaceful and appropriate. Today I open my store, sensuouswife.com. This is a culmination of over a year of design and development and many years of life experience. In some way, I've been preparing for this all my life. As I shared here, I was ushered into sex in an abusive way. Codependency and an essentially boundaryless life resulted. I was a city without walls. But healing happens. And healing can be hot. Boy oh boy, can it ever! Sometimes healing is 3 steps forward 2 steps back, but healing comes. As I started to experience healing, I could not be quiet anymore. Even though I was convinced no one would read this blog, I scrunched up my courage, stepped up to the microphone and spoke my story. And you dear people talked back. Comments and emails that bring tears to my eyes just remembering.

The story that emerged is that people who have struggled with sexual abuse or sexual addiction or codependency want to have sober sex. And that sober sex, healthy sex can be hot. That toys and bedroom adventure gear can be a beautiful erotic addition to healthy sex. That healing can be oh-so-hot! So when a recovering person wants to get their healthy sexy groove on, where can they shop for sexy treats that won't threaten their recovery where can they go? And if they have a bad back and find that sex is painful or causes a flareup, where can they go? I felt such a tug in my heart to share the products that have worked for me and to share them in a beautiful classy way that was sexy and fun and respectful toward recovery.

So I did. And we have. I knew a job this big would mean a 'we' not a 'me'. I have the best team a woman could hope for. Beloved Customer Care who was the first one to come alongside me. (she's @sensuoushelp on twitter) Several Beloved Vendors who have contributed in turn...Web Developers, Graphic Designers all who gave from their heart and many who gave their time. And last but not least Beloved Project Manager who kept us and continues to keep us all on track, including me.
I have a lump in my throat and the sting of unshed tears in my eyes, because today's the day. Sober is sexy. sensuouswife.com is open! In my own small way, I have changed the world.

Comparison Trap

Something I've learned recently is that comparing myself with another woman or worse yet someone else comparing me to another woman is a shortcut ticket to misery. I want to share some thoughts that have helped me find my way out of the comparison trap.

I must live in the light of God's sovereignty.
Trusting His good heart toward me.
Trusting God did a good job when he made me.
Trusting God and I and I together are doing a good job of continuing to make me.
I must accept God's grace toward me as sufficient,
and not fall into either ditch of pride or envy.
Pride says I'm better than someone else.
Envy says I think someone else's possessions or traits or qualities are better than mine and I therefore find my own possessions or traits or qualities not good enough, less-than, unsatisfactory.
God created me.
God did a great job and took great joy in making me.
And I can take great joy in making me too, because I am made by, shaped by, changed by the choices that I make day after day after day.
Making the choice to grow and change is a good thing.
But healthy change MUST be secondary to the foundation of truth that says:
God is sovereign, God is good, God is loving, and this good God shaped me with tender care.
It is in this warm solid foundation, that change is good and welcomed for I know I was delightful already before the change.

And being humble and vulnerable and tender and strong,
giving God plenty of elbow room to work,
that can only yield good things.

Feeling this, knowing this , believing this
feels
SO VERY GOOD.

and I'm delighted to share it with you.

With love,
Shula

PS Thinking about God creating me led me to this video of creation. I belong smack-dab amongst all this other created beauty cause the very same artist made me. Ooooh! Love that!

Lost my appetite

I stopped by one of my favorite Mexican places this morning. A cute little joint that is open for breakfast. I needed to refuel after my workout at the gym and it wasn’t far from the home repair store I had to visit next. After ordering a plate of cheese enchiladas and chicken fajitas, I headed for the dining area to pick a table. What I saw next stopped me in my tracks and left me with a tingling feeling in my chest. Two lanky young men in army fatigues were at a nearby table, polishing off breakfast.

My friend that I love so much he calls me Sis and I call him Brother, had just deployed for parts unknown and seeing those young men in army green gave me quite a shock. I immediately began to sob, sat down at the table next to them, ripped off my sunglasses, buried my face in my hands and let the tears come. Love, fear, separation and longing rolled off my cheeks in warm salty tears. “Ask them to help you” came the warm loving thought in my mind that I knew was Himself talking to my heart. I pressed a napkin to my eyes and swallowed. “Excuse me, Sir. Can you help me please?”. They turned and looked at me calmly waiting until I regained my composure enough to speak. The one nearest to me, a lanky blonde with an honest Kansas farm boy face, said “Yes ma’am?” I took a deep breath. “Seeing you two is quite a shock. My brother just deployed from Germany to parts unknown. I saw him last before they moved to Germany. I don’t know where he is, I can’t know. And I didn’t get to hug him goodbye when he deployed, since he deployed from Germany. Would you mind? Could I give you a hug?”

He immediately stood to his feet and held out his arms. I embraced him, taking in his cologne I didn’t recognize and aware that my cheek that I pressed against his neck was wet with tears. At arms length again, I held his gaze for just a moment. “Thank you. I feel better now.” “You’re welcome, ma’am. And good luck to your brother.”

They left immediately. As they walked outside the restaurant, I saw through the window as they climbed into an enormous black dually truck-a total wildatheartmobile. I smiled at this and sighed. I did feel better. Peace replaced the shock and grief in my chest and I turned my attention toward breakfast.

I was not hungry, per se. But I knew I had to eat right after a workout. I managed to eat about one third of the Tex Mex delight the smiling olive skinned cooks had prepared for me. After one last spoonful of salsa verde and rice, I knew I couldn’t eat another bite.

And then I realized what a little golden moment this was for me-the woman who used to eat her feelings. Instead of overeating in an addictive unhealthy attempt to squash my emotions, I had let the tears come, been humble and vulnerable enough to ask for help and receive it, and then found to my grateful delight that food didn’t have an emotional hold on me anymore. It was just fuel. Thank God.-Shula

PS Please pray for Michael and Angela

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 First Video

God has been working on my heart big time. I have been doing well to process and keep up with it in real time. Lots of soul searching and prayer and humility and then quantum leaps of growth and healing. Taint easy. I am so so so lucky to have an inner circle of friends that I can talk with and they will love me and accept me and pray for me and encourage me to process and grow. This weekend, I took a long walk. I was gone for several hours, solitude and journaling and duking it out with God. Going without sugar or any kind of emotional eating for several days has been like a fast that has revealed many areas in my heart that needed to be healed and forgiven.

After one particularly intense rant, I had a moment where Jesus became so real and relevant for me. I was angry about a situation, at someone in particular and I was telling God about it. I was legitimately angry for some wrongs done to me and I told God, "God I just want to punch them!" and in my heart I heard this thought. It was as though Jesus answered me saying "I was punched and beaten. Can what was done to me be enough. Cause that person deserves a good punch and I was beaten up, can it be enough what was done to me?" This so shocked me that I stopped in my tracks. Peace seeped in to that angry pit in my stomach, and I let it go.

As I was walking back around the lake, I was startled to see all these golden sparkly lights on the water. It was only visible from that one point on the lake. This song was playing on my phone's mp3 player at the time. I stood there and just drank in the beauty. I got to wishing so so badly that I could record this. I've never seen golden lights sparkling at random on the water quite like that. I decided to at least take a picture. And while I was monkeying around with the camera settings I discovered my camera phone would shoot video. I had not known this! So I held the phone as still as I could and took the video. I'm not gonna win any awards for cinematography but I hope you can sense the peace and tranquility and beauty that overwhelmed me that day in such a lovely good way.

Sensuous Wife Shrinks

Well darlings I have decided to screw up my courage and really go for it.
God has given me so much healing in my marriage and sexuality and emotional and physical health, I've decided to be brave and dare to hope Himself will also bring healing to my weight. It's an interesting place to be. I feel gorgeous and sexy now. I don't feel unpretty or unsexy. But my doctor, Beloved Endocrinologist, really wants me to lose weight. Since I'm being treated for a metabolic disorder, the Atkins low carb way is the best match for me.

I feel so nervous!!

I have lost weight before eating the Atkins way, and I did very well. The problem is not the eating plan. The problem is emotional eating. I have lost 15 pounds, gotten some momentum, and then hit an emotional wall and gained 5 pounds back. I'm still at net loss of 10 which is good. And I want more.

I feel like this is the last battle for my heart. The last place in my life that needs to be healed. It's not that I want to look like anyone else. I am so tired feeling victory failure and frustration in this area of my life. I want to conquer this area of my life. I want to be the curvy, athletic girl I used to be.

On the fun side, Delighted Husband and I have looked at each other with a gleam in our eye thinking about some of the hot stuff we could do if I were smaller and more flexible and had more, er, stamina. (blush) (grin) In the few months I have been working out at the gym, I have been amazed at how much faster and easier I can orgasm. Lord only knows what else might be in store for Delighted Husband and me! I intend to find out.

So, does this sound like a good goal? Is this something y'all think you could support?

Love,
Shula

The Healing Power of Story

Some friends of mine have been praying for me.
Wow, when they pray, they pray, and stuff happens.
This is what they were praying about and I will tell you what happened.

I have a group of friends that I used to be quite close to a few years ago. Much misunderstanding and unhealthy dynamics with a few and it ended badly. Several still wanted to maintain relationship with me but I found it too painful, and made a clean break from the whole bunch. Lately, I have been encountering reminders of some of these old friends. Seemingly out of the blue. I've been having a powerful longing to reconnect yet a horror of the train wreck repeating and a knowledge that the dividing issue has never been resolved. I need wisdom and protection. If it is God that a reconciliation take place, then He must open the doors. If it is God's will that I have peace and be free from the longing for a reunion, then so be it.

I stayed awake till after midnight Monday night, thinking about each friend I have lost and receiving the same comfort from God I received right after the train wreck. Hymns really spell comfort for me. So I listened to Chris Rice's new album Peace Like a River. Over and over.

In the morning, I was exhausted. I went back to bed for a while, after seeing my family off to work and school. Then my reminder alarm went off telling me it was time to get ready for my lunch appointment.

All the sudden, it hit me: "I am missing out on a real live local opportunity to enjoy a lunch someone here invited me to because I'm all tired and sleepy because sat up till all hours of the night mooning over some lost friendships who live far away and I haven't talked to in nearly 3 years. What the heck am I doing??"

So I snapped out of it and started getting dolled up.

Now you women will understand this prolly better than you men.
Getting dolled up makes me feel good. This was not a romantic lunch date. It was my agent who I have known and worked with for years. This lunch at the restaurant of my choice was my reward for going to an interview out in the boondocks in rush hour traffic. Nice agent huh? Anyway, the point is, for me especially since I have been working at home in my no-makeup gym clothes for the last month, it was a real shot in the arm to get all dolled up in a nice outfit and go to my favorite restaurant in the Galleria district.

Once I got there, my agent showed up with my other agent (bonus!) who also works at the same talent agency. One agent is a man the other agent is a woman. Both of them love me and have been very good to me. I love them too and they know it. So we're eating these fancy salads and they ask, "so what are you working on these days?" and I said I was supervising contractors who repair my house after the hurricane, I was working with a literary agent, and I was writing content and doing project management on a new online retail website. (wink wink y'all know what that website is!)

So they were very loving and encouraging asking me about the literary agent first. They have both known for quite a while that I write novels. Then they said "so tell me about this website". So I told them it was my first time to do the project manager role for new websites instead of the writer role. I explained the stuff I've learned about keeping track of who's doing what and who's waiting for who. The developer has to code so and so before the writer can write such and such.

I'm keeping it all cool and professional. Like I'm talking about just another gig.

Then God said, "tell them the whole story".

So I did.

I started off by saying "this project has been rewarding for a "pay it forward" kind of reason. This project is giving me the chance to combine my hobby and my work."

"Oh really?? That's wonderful! Tell us about it!"

I did not blurt out, "I sell sex toys".

I said, "I had some really bad things happen to me in my childhood. And you know what, I took myself in, sat myself down in the chair, paid my $95 an hour and I dealt with my stuff. And I reached a point where my therapist said, "You're like the poster child for sexual abuse recovery. You should totally write a book." and I said "yes!". I knew from my writing career how long the book writing process was, and I wanted to strike while the iron was hot and get my story out there while I had the nerve, so I started a blog.

They made encouraging sounds, so I continued.

"The cool thing about a blog, is you have a thought, you push send and bam its out there for the world. No query letters. No endless book critique groups. You have a thought. You type it out. You press send. Bam. You're done.

Now, when I first started my blog, I didn't know anything about blogging. I didn't know anything about stats. I was sure that
A) no one was reading this and
B) if they did read it, I would be tarred and feathered.
But you know what? I still found great power and consolation in telling my story. By speaking out. Even though I thought I was speaking out in an empty room, I was speaking. And it felt good to tell my story. It felt real good.

I sat there at the marble topped table of this beautiful restaurant and rested in their gaze. These two lovely human beings were giving me their full attention. Oxygen for the storyteller's soul.

Several months later, somebody told me about stats and I started tracking visitors. And I discovered that people were reading my story. Lots of people. And they were telling other people to come and read it. (open mouthed wide eyed look of amazement) That was a year and a half ago.

How many people? My agent asked. And I told him how many thousands of you dear people come here and read my story. The agents made happy sounds. I felt the same good overwhelming feeling I always feel every time I think of you dear men and women showing up here and reading what I have to say. Y'all have no idea how precious you really are.

I quickly added, "But here's the best part. I get these emails. Women from all over the world write me and say, "I read your story, and it took me 6 times to read it all the way through cause I kept crying. But I did read the whole thing. And I knew it was my time for healing. So I went for counseling, and that was several months ago, and my marriage is doing so much better." Oh my God, you guys, can there be anything better than that?

I just about cried to think of it, I felt so bowled over.

So over the next couple of years, I began to mentor wives, to mentor couples and it was very common for them to ask me for recommendations for toys and accessories.

I glanced up quickly. Neither agent spewed tea out of their mouth or looked like they needed a defibrillator. Good sign.

So most of these couples were dealing with some amount of sexual abuse or sexual addiction issues. So I was very protective of these women. Because I know from my own experience, that the vibe the feel the atmosphere of some of these toy stores made me feel a little uncomfortable. And my concern was that one of these women who had reached a place of healing in her life and was ready to be brave and do something a little spicy for her marriage, might shop at a store that she felt uncomfortable with, and then she might say, "Oh I tried that it wasn't for me." and then she might give up.

"Oh just when she's going for it in her marriage"....they said sympathetically

I nodded. "Yes."

So one time a husband asked me to recommend a store that would be sensitive to his needs as someone recovering from sexual addiction issues, I said, "you know what, I've been an authorized reseller for quite some time, but I haven't done much with it. Now that I know my job is going to be coming to an end, maybe now is the right time to start a store. Let's think about it pray about it see what develops"

In less than 24 hours, I started getting emails with orders. Now I don't even have a store at this point, I'm just thinking about it and I'm getting orders.

The next day, this wonderful couple that own a professional web development company talked with me and offered to help me. They said, "we think what you're doing is a ministry and we want to help you." I opened my mouth and said "Yes! I accept!" Another friend said they wished they could help if they didn't live several states away. I told her, "you don't have to live here to help. Be my virtual assistant." So this team of wonderful people just grew up organically around me!

I am smiling. The agents are smiling. They're totally tracking with me. This feels so good!

This has been a real challenge to me as a writer. And fun! On one hand, it's easy because I'm writing from my heart. How many branding campaigns have I written? I've lost count. The branding campaign for this site I wrote in 48 hours. It wrote itself. And it was fun! And funny! And playful!

They smile. I smile. My professional and personal worlds are colliding and it feels so good!

Some of the writing has been challenging. On one hand, as a writer, I have to write about the products in a favorable way. On the other hand, as a woman who has been in recovery for 16 years, I have to write about these products in a way that shows sensitivity and compassion for those who are struggling with abuse or addiction issues. So I really wrote from my heart. And I came up with a solution. I put the Liberator Black Label products in their own section of the store, and in the welcome message for that section, I wrote: "This is not for everyone. Take what you like and leave the rest. If you've reached a place in your recovery that you're ready to say, "hold still honey, you're gonna love this!" then welcome to this section of our store."

Agent says, "You did not say that!"

I grinned. "Yes, I did."

Agent says, "Oh that's fabulous!" and we both laugh. I feel amazing!

The agents prepare to leave for a meeting. It's a cordial goodbye, and more than that, I feel like something has shifted inside my heart.

So you can see why (mutual friend other agent) says "This is the coolest thing I wish you could put on your resume!"

I'm grinning. Sharing an inside joke.

Agent is dead serious.
"You may feel differently about that someday. I think what you're doing is amazing."

After they leave, I stand there next to our table and take stock of this feeling in my heart. I feel a thrill and a nervous tingling inside my chest. But it isn't fear. It's energy. It's excitement. It's power.
Power?
And then it all makes perfect sense.
During the early years of my recovery, I told my story, the sad story of my abuse. Sitting there on folding chairs in support group meetings, I told my story. And every time I told my story, I felt stronger. And here I am today, on the flip side. Telling my story, the happy story of my healing and my business. Sitting there on a cushy banquette in a good restaurant, I told my story to my real life friends who have known me and worked with me for years. And I feel stronger. Much much stronger.

This is the Healing and the Power of telling my Story. Wow.

Deal with the stink in the attic

God has been teaching me so many heart lessons as I deal with the aftermath of Hurricane Ike. As you know from my previous posts, the shingles on my roof never bonded so they peeled apart and flew away oh-so-easily. The ridge vent also peeled away and my roof leaked like a sieve. The attic in my house is full of wet, stinky, mildewy stuff. Gobs of matted pink insulation that used to be fluffy and odorless now is clumpy and stinky. Eeew.

Meanwhile, down in the second and first floors, HEPA air filters are chugging away, trying to filter the stink from the air I breathe. And they're helping. To a point that I can tolerate living here. But nothing's really going to clear the air until I deal with the issues in the attic. I am SO not looking forward to that. Along with a contractor to remove all the stinky wet insulation, and put in fresh insulation, Delighted Husband and I will have to sort through all our stuff and cull out the water damaged pieces, photograph them and submit them for replacement and throw them out. We'll then have to decide what stuff is worth keeping and rebox the keepable stuff in undamaged new boxes. This is gonna take a while. It will be sweaty, stinky, so-not-fun work.

Lucky for me I have a bit of a reprieve because we can't deal with any of the stink in the attic until a good boundary is restored between our house and the world by having a new roof installed. But eventually, we must deal with our stinky stuff.

Wow does this remind me of therapy.

I could spray air freshener in my house every day, but until I deal with the rot in the locked-off room in the attic, ain't nothin' gonna change.

I suppose this is why Jesus said he was empowered to bind up the brokenhearted, to tear down and to build. Because tearing out the rot and brokenness is the way to get wholeness and healing. Bring it on.

Love,
SW

Sometimes our feelings lie to us

I have a skinned knee. It got banged up pretty bad when I took a spill last Friday. Torn ligaments on the right and skinned knee on the left.

I noticed something this morning and I believe it has a deeper meaning. My knee hurts. It hurts nearly all the time. At night, when I go to bed, just the touch of the sheets touching my knee is painful. And it has happened every dang night. And I found myself starting to think in a whiny tone, "Well daaaang it's never going to get any betterrrr. It still hurrrrrrrts!". Then I looked at my knee. This morning, I took a good look at it, and there is a ring of fresh new pink skin all the way around the scab. It IS getting better! Healing more by the second. Sometimes our feelings lie to us. Whether it's our sensation feelings or our emotion feelings, they don't always tell us the whole truth.

Carry the Torch

Back in the day, if you said he's carrying the torch for her, you meant "he's in love with her". It's a brief beautiful way to say, "there's a flame in my heart burning for that special someone."

Well it came to me yesterday, that passion and desire is a flame we carry inside our hearts. And if we live long enough, and are married long enough, we will experience a difference in the level of our sexual desire and the sexual desire of our spouse. Not so much whether or not they desire us as a person.

I mean that everyone's libido goes through ups and downs depending on lots of factors including:

• their hormonal health (thyroid, testosterone, estrogen, progesterone, dopamine, serotonin)
  
• the amount of stress in their life
• the amount of cardio exercise in their life
• the amount of strength training in their life
• how much they work out (working out at intense levels over a several months can cause some women to stop ovulating)
• their emotions and attitudes about themselves
• their emotions and attitudes about their sexuality
• their emotions and attitudes about their spouse
  
• their emotions and attitudes about their spouses' sexuality
• how often they cultivate their eroticism by reading sexy poetry, daydreaming about past lovely memories of lovemaking, etc.
• how often they experience and notice nonerotic pleasure
• how well they know their own body's capacity for pleasure and know how to experience that alone or with their spouse
  

Lots of factors play into libido. And these are just the ones that came to mind today! There are probably more. Y'all speak up if you can think of any more factors that influence a person's level of libido. Oh yeah! Like medications! Some medications have a documented side effect of reducing the sex drive.

So back to the torch idea. Torches flicker. The flames dance and move and change.
So does desire.

And it hit me yesterday, that one of the ways we can carry the torch for our spouse is to cultivate our own desire, the flame inside of us. Even if our spouse's torch flickers and wanes. Especially then.

What does this look like?
I'll give you a possible scenario.

Say a husband goes through a verrry stressful period in his work. Maybe he's a CPA and it's tax season. Maybe he's a doctor and he's on call a lot. Maybe he's a lawyer and he's studying for the bar exam or he's got a case that's gone to trial and he's working 16 hour days. Maybe he was the innocent victim of a round of layoffs at work and he lost his job. Whatever it may be, he's under a lot of stress. And depending on his own body and personality, it may be that his desire for sex is temporarily decreased. This has happened to Delighted Husband before.

And it occured to me yesterday that if these times of lower drive come into his life again, I can carry the torch for him. I can carry the torch of desire FOR him. I can keep the flame of love and desire from going out in my marriage my keeping my own pilot light lit.

Sometimes there's a fine line between partnership and codpendence. Our own skin is a boundary that says what's inside this skin is me and what's outside this skin is not me. We each have to own our sexuality. It's part of our self. However, when you get married there's this beautiful partnership. We take on the role of steward over not only our own sexuality but also for our spouse's sexuality. It's my pleasure and responsibility and delight to meet Delighted Husband's sexual needs. It's his pleasure and responsibility and delight to meet mine. But when one of us has our libido flicker or wane because of one of the factors mentioned before, we have to keep our own sexuality alive in healthy ways. We have to carry the torch. Keep the home fires burning so we have hot coals ready to reignite the fire in our spouse.

If you live long enough and are married long enough, you will each have a turn at being the spouse with the higher libido. Delighted Husband has certainly had his turn as the higher drive spouse. So have I. Keep your own heart alive. Invite your spouse to rejoin the party.

As I write, I am thinking of my friends who have shared their stories with me. Husbands and wives whose hearts are filled with sorrow and pain because their spouse has rejected them sexually on a long term basis. My love for my friends and my awareness of the reality of their pain makes me afraid to say anything on the topic for fear that the positive tone of my post will come across as glib or dismissive. I don't want to disrespect anyone or their pain.

I will say this. When my beloved was going through a tremendous time of stress from crushing external circumstances that caused his libido to flicker and wane, keeping my own pilot light lit by rehearsing sweet memories in my mind, remaining aware of my own pleasure, pursuing my husband and seductively drawing him back into the warm erotic playground of our bond is one of the most godly things I have ever done.

Cardboard Testimony

Sometimes it's good to take stock of where you've been and where you are today.
Sometimes it's real good.

Here's mine:

sexual abuse victim
constant terror and shame
afraid of my own sexuality

passionate healthy marriage
owner sensuouswife.com
encouraging couples to go for healing & hotness

Joy

wells deep inside me
sweet salty lifegiving water
flowing flowing flowing
like Jacob's well a
neverending stream of more more more
more lifegiving words of humanness and pathos and pain and beauty and joy so big it
cannot be contained
in my skin
so it spills out
joy so big i cry it out come it out sing it out shout it out
tears and nectar and notes and words
joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy
big audacious joy that would be obnoxious
were she not so charming
in her childlike invitation
sit down play alongside her
a playground built for two to which the whole world is invited
come as you are come as you are come as you are
life and joy and healing beckon

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.

Something Changed Inside Me

I've found myself humming this song countless times over the last 5 days. Sarah Groves has this uncanny ability to say just what I want to say. Only I didn't know I needed to say it. Until I hear her say it, and it's like finding a piece of your self in the lost and found and needing, wanting, reclaiming, rejoicing all in a split second. God love ya, Sarah. I certainly do.

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

Awakening Song

Sexual Redemption Stories

Our life unfolds as a story. Each life story contains darkness and light, pain and healing, suffering and redemption in glory in our own custom-blended mix. Stories really speak to me. Most any story that shows a glimpse of healing or redemption will capture my interest. Since I've been very open about my journey from fractured abuse to whole hotness, you might imagine that stories that portray sexual redemption and healing will find a special place in my heart. Yep, you're right. They do.

I've put a new list on the sidebar called Sexual Redemption Stories. These books tell the story of one human's journey from painful abuse in their past to uninhibited joy with their spouse. Sometimes this uninhibited joy is (cough) rather uninhibited. Erotic even. I feel free to celebrate this married lack of inhibition for the healing that it is, but I realize some people feel uncomfortable with stories of an erotic nature, even if the eroticism is shown in married context. I want y'all to feel inspired not uncomfortable, so I've put an *next to those story titles. I trust you will let your discerning hearts lead you as you read.

I'll say a little about each book I post, by way of introduction, when I add them to the sidebar list.

And I want to hear from you!

Have you read a story that shows a journey away from pain toward uninhibited joy in the marriage bed?

I want to read 'em! And if they speak to me, I'll put 'em on the sidebar.

Any recommendations?

Oh, I guess I should add that I'm looking for stories that have an overall tone of love and redemption where the characters treat each other with love and respect and passion. Sometimes the character's painful past can be a bumpy ride, and I'm okay with that as long as the healing part of the journey is loving, healthy, passionate, respectful and relational destination.

M'kay?

I'm so looking forward to hearing what y'all recommend!

For all who are thirsty....the bar is open!

for all who are thirsty
all who are weak
come to the fountain
dip your heart in the springs of life
let the pain and the sorrow
be washed away
on the waves of his mercy
as deep cries out to deep
we sing
come Lord Jesus come

Oh friends!
The good news of Jesus is too good to be true.
but it is.
It is true.

My friend Gemma posted an Easter sermon that just touched my heart right where it needed to be touched.

Oh friends, I am weeping as I type.
I have so many roles and responsibilities.
There is never enough time to do them all.
Something is always left undone.
I dodge bullets all the time. Deadlines. Customers. Vendors. Defensive driving affidavit that must be notarized and returned on time. I found out this weekend that my driver's license expired on my birthday. Gotta get that renewed. In person. For a photo. My desk is loaded with paper. It's the stuff of life. I'm not saying my load is any harder than anyone else's. But I realized today how much I live my life under the gun. Perpetually behind on something. If I can take care of the people I love and do right by the relationships God has blessed me with, and keep the most pressing paperwork needs taken care of, then I figure I'm doing all right. Relationships are very very important to me. So I make the other stuff wait their place in line. But I didn't realize how often I am mentally looking over my shoulder. Sort of a spiritually and emotionally "on the lam". I'm not breaking any laws on a regular basis. Well except for the fact that I have been driving without a license for quite some time (Lordy!) but in general, I'm doing good. I'm offering love and beauty and living a life that pleases God. So why do I feel so perpetually behind all the time? The line of people who want a piece of me is a long line.

I didn't realize all this was playing like background noise in my heart until I read:

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.

The Lord gives rest to those who come at the eleventh hour,
even as to those who toiled from the beginning.

To one and all the Lord gives generously.
The Lord accepts the offering of every work.
The Lord honours every deed and commends their intention.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

First and last alike, receive your reward.
Rich and poor, rejoice together!

Conscientious and lazy, celebrate the day!
You who have kept the fast, and you who have not,
rejoice, this day, for the table is bountifully spread!

Feast royally, for the calf is fatted.
Let no one go away hungry.
Partake, all, of the banquet of faith.
Enjoy the bounty of the Lord's goodness!
—A PASCHAL SERMON by St. John Chrysostom (347-407)

It's as though Jesus is saying, "those of you who cannot or did not get it right, you come to the party anyway. Come and enjoy darlings, with no reproach or misgiving or ill will. Come and enjoy. Come and dine. Feast, even. Drink deeply and enjoy. My grace and paid the bill and invited you. The bar is open."

Oh thank you Jesus.
Yes, I believe I will.

And thank you Gemma. For yes I did need to be reminded that this fast paced overloaded culture I'm living in where the goals are not always achievable and the pace is not always healthy, just becuase my to do list runneth over doesn't mean I need to live under a chronic sense of lowgrade failure or disappointment. I'm loving God and loving people and applying my energy to all the tasks set before me knowing at the getgo that they will never all get done. I'm showing up and loving God and loving people and doing my best to do right by my responsibilities. And by the grace of God, that's enough. Heck, if I WASN'T loving God, loving people, and doing my best, by the grace of God that's enough. It's enough. He is enough. He is my enough. I have outsourced my enough and my vendor's name is Jesus. Bless his holy name.