Accepted and loved

You know how kids go thorugh growth spurts? They eat and sleep a lot and then next thing you know their jeans don't fit. Well I've been going through a growth spurt, in a different way. Emotionally, spiritually, relationally. And my jeans don't fit either, but it's because they're too big.
I am amazed at how emotional eating is just so much less a part of my life, and how my appetite has decreased overall. In the midst of tremendous transition and sometimes painful growth, I'm feeling more accepted and loved than ever.
How do you experience acceptance and love?
Who pours acceptance and love into your emotional cup?
If you feel accepted and loved, how does that affect the other areas of your life?
Is it easier to care for your body and heart when you accept and love yourself?
Then how does this self care, self acceptance, self love affect your relationships with God and other humans?
If sex is giving your self, then what kind of self do you think you're giving?

I'm looking forward to sharing with you some of the good changes that are taking place in my heart. Some posts will come sooner than others. Good art percolates in the heart. Love, Shula

I love my readers

I miss you all. There are so many things I can't talk about. Just wanted you to know that I'm still here. I am currently going through what may be the most devastating time of suffering and refining I've ever had to walk through. I will be okay. You know me, I will do whatever it takes to push through to healing. And you know me, after I receive a measure of healing, I'll be so eager to share that story with you. In the meantime, I'll share other stories. If God never does another thing for me, His generosity is unquestioned. I am blessed. And I will be loved. And so will you.

Held,
Shula

Thank you Sue, for giving me this song.

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

Love is the most important ingredient

Y'all know how much I love to cook. To me, cooking is edible art. And love is the most important ingredient.

We have some dear friends we have not seen in months, almost a year, even though they live 45 minutes away. We had planned and rescheduled several times to have them over and finally made plans for them to come share a meal at our home today. When I invited our friends this third time, I had no idea that my presence would be required in Corporate America today.

Delighted Husband picked up some Boston Market drivethru and set the table. Our friends who had offered to bring dessert, picked up some brownies from a grocery store bakery and a carton of ice cream. We ate as soon as I got home.

And you know what, y'all? It was a delightful meal. It wasn't the food. The food was was alright, but I was mostly too tired to eat. It was the love.

Diamonds from a girl's best friend

I love me some bling, no doubt about it.
But diamonds my best friend?
Nuh-UH!
The human connection of a friend's love and encouragement trumps sparkle every dang time.
But what if I got both? At the same time?
SuhWEET!
And that, my darlings, is exactly what happened.
My girlfriend Cocotte nominated me for the brilliante blog award.
Thank you darlin'.

I pass it on to Howard at Rebel By Nature who always manages to leave me slackjawed in amazement at the deep, beautiful, yet earthy things he has to say. Love ya, Howard. You're a good man. A soulful writer. And a true artist with a camera. Blogdom is a better place with you in it.

Even in soulless Corporate America

Y'all, I have figured out I can do this job and still remain a soft, loving, reasonably sane woman. Well, not figured out. I experienced it. Oh goodness, lemme just tell you the story.

Ever since I started this corporate gig, I have been increasingly crabby and grouchy and dare I say bitchy. Yes, bitchy. I was running on empty and you know what that is right? A recipe for disaster. I felt under so much pressure, and my emotional bank account was so overdrawn.

In my old job which didn't pay much and was often frustrating as hell, I worked from home. So I was free to put things into my day that fed my soul. nourished my heart. Stuff like long walks out in nature powerwalking my way down a jogging path with nothing but green and the music in my ears. Stuff like having the house all to myself during the day and going into the gameroom and cranking up the stereo, pushing back the furniture, and dancing and singing my little heart out. And you know how you dance when nobody's lookin'? I danced like that. I would start out dancing like I danced in dance class and then passion would take over and I would just whirl all over that room! I'd feel breathless and alive and fabulous.

I had a lot of freedom in my schedule for quality time with my girlfriends, several of which I'd have lunch with on a regular basis. I had a nourishing encouraging support group that I was a part of. The group was led by a woman therapist and we slowly worked and grew our way through several books and workbooks like Boundaries and Healing for Damaged Emotions. And y'all know, I want to live right and be healthy and I need all the help I can get. And there was SO much love in that room as we all fought and grew together. Cause growing, real changes in the heart is a struggle, and you needs lots of people who love you who celebrate your little victories and hold you hand when you need to cry.
So, yeah, I didn't make much dough, but I had a really good world.

And then I got this corporate gig downtown.

And all the things in my life that nourished me went away.
And the pressure on me and the demands of me increased.
And the time! The sheer force of hours.
Cause I'm back in cubicle land. and for nine hours a day they want me to sit still and be quiet. And I'm me. Miss Dance-Joy-Vivaciousness. Trying to be quiet. And it's so hard for me to be still it nearly bout makes me ache. Oh, and did I mention, my dance class closed for the Summer? So really, all these lovely nourishing things in my life went away.

But the money is so good. I mean, I've made more, but I've certainly made less and this job allows me to pitch in on some financial goals that are really important to Delighted Husband and me. Paying off debt for one thing. And start up capital for my new venture for another. So I was in this gig for the duration.
And dying on the vine.

And ya'll know how unreligious I am. and while I enjoy the social, community aspect of church (and hey they also have a great band) my primary way to connect with my spirituality has been my singing, my dancing, my nature walks and bike rides.

So I was socially spiritually and emotionally overdrawn. I was a mess.

Okay I'm getting to the good part, I swear. I just wanted you to know how bad it was.

So this week, I remembered I had music on my pocket pc. It had been so long since I listened to music on my pocket pc, I mostly use my mp3 player, I had forgotten. But I'd heard everything on my mp3 player over and over, it was my workout list for the gym and I didn't think I'd find my get sweaty fired up music comforting.

So I did "play all" just to see what was there on my pocket pc.

And oh, you guys, it was Chris Rice. An instrumental from The Living Room Sessions. Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us. Now as I told my girlfriend Pro Deo Sum on the phone today, as much as I complain about growing up in a Christian home, I am really glad I grew up hearing and singing the old hymns, because back in the day the people who wrote hymns were people who lived lives of struggle. We're talkin' big time suffering here, people and those lyricists knew what it was like to feel your soul had sprung a leak and the next gas station was 15 miles away. They knew. So these hymns speak comfort to me like nothing else. So I listen to dear Chris Rice play this hymn, and he has such a light touch. I mean, when Chris Rice does a hymn, if his music were cooking it would be a light garlic sauce that enhances the flavor of everything else and doesn't cover it up. Not your ponderous old Granny music. Light and airy and graceful. Are you followin' me here? I'm doing my best to describe the song because I don't think I can find it on you tube. Anyway, so there's the song. And the gyst of the lyric is "Jesus please be our good shepherd and take good care of us cause we're weak and we're hungry and we're sheep so we're limited in our ability to do anything about it."

When I heard this song, I heard all this comfort that I wasn't feeling. I remembered all the amazing spiritual moments I'd had on the jogging path. And I sat there in my cubicle. And it was like pressing your nose against the glass and seeing this happy dinner party going on inside without you. I heard love. I heard intimacy. I heard connection. I heard joy. I heard togetherness. and I wadn't gettin' any of it. And it just tore me up. So I closed my eyes, and I thought, "Jesus I miss you so much I can hardly stand it. In fact, I can't." And instantly, He was there. When I opened my eyes, I saw my computer screen and heard nice music in my earphones. When I closed my eyes, I saw this movie in my mind of Jesus standing before me, looking—as he always does in my mind's eye—like my brother Brian, with Celtic green eyes beaming with love and looking at me with such delight. I blinked back and forth a couple of times, stunned in a happy way. I opened my eyes, I'm smack dab in the middle of soulless Corporate America. I close my eyes, and Jesus is holding my hands and looking into my eyes with such love and we are dancing like children up and down the aisles of cubicle land. -SW

PS
Oh and tomorrow morning, I'm loading up my bike in the shagmobile and I'm hitting the bike trails. Oh yeah!

Beauty That Nourishes

Fatigue is a powerful force and it takes something equally powerful to counteract it.
Beauty.
Delighted Husband and I have been working some long hours at our respective jobs. Both of us feeling a fatigue of unusual intensity. Fatigue is more than sleepyness or the sense of needing to sit down and catch your breath after an intense game of basketball. Fatigue is a bonewearyness of body and soul. This is what we're dealing with.

We arrive home and after sending one last important email I step away from the computer and walk with him toward the bedroom. We cuddle and he tells me about his day. About the stresses and strains of daily work life. I listen and blurt out sympathy and indignation. Our companionship is sweet. Two best friends sharing the victories and griefs of the day. Suddenly, he rolls on top of me. I blink in surprise. Then smile at what he says next. Then smile at what he does next.

Companionship, love, marital play all satisfied, hunger is the next need in line. He heads for the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal. That is one of the most adorable things about him I think—how Delighted Husband is pushing forty and still enjoys a bowl of colorful cereal with the unabashed gusto of a little boy. I prefer more substantial fare, and find the thought of sugary cereal on an empty stomach deplorable.

I doze and luxuriate until my stomach starts to growl. I close my eyes and remember waffles. I remember when my Daddy used to cook on the nights my Mama had to work late at her floral shop. That's right. I get the business owner bug honest. And her store was there to offer beauty and joy to women as well. What a heritage. So on nights Mama was working late into the night like Santa's elves to bouquet-ify an entire wedding party, Daddy would make waffles. Waffles. I hadn't had waffles in years.

I ambled into the kitchen, nearly stood on my head in front of the island cabinet, and dug out the waffle iron. While it was heating, I opened a box of whole wheat bisquicky stuff and whipped up a batch of waffle batter. I'm pushin' forty myself and my waffles are more carb-healthy than Daddy's but the thought still counts. I anoint my waffle with real butter and maple syrup—not even sugarfree stuff, the real McCoy—and take a bite. I swallow and sigh and think "God bless us all every one." I listen to my audiobook and savor the waffley bliss. By this time, Delighted Husband is in the gameroom playing Wii. The chirpy happy music and roaring car engine noise tells me he is off to the races with Mario Kart.

Having savored my waffle, I want something lush from the protein category. I know just the ticket. I whip up a batch of eggs the way Friend Dennis makes them. Spicy and seasoned just right with mushrooms and cheese. I remember the first time he cooked these eggs for us on the first morning of one of the vacations Friend Dennis and his Dearly Beloved took with me and Delighted Husband. I remember how special it was to have someone cook for me. Me the one who loves to cook being cooked for and how cared-for that made me feel.

And I feel cared-for all over again. Remembering the meals my Daddy and my friend cooked for me, I feel it and taste it all over again, and I feel nourished body and soul.

Such simple pleasures. Such beauty. And I experience the wonder of feeling nourished and satisfied instead of hungry and fatigued. Simple things will get you through, my friends. Simple rest. Simple play. Simple food. Simple love. Wow, do I feel better.

Recreation=Re-Creation (the healing do-over)

Oh! I feel all better today. And I want to tell you why, and how God did it, and how we helped. Because I think knowing this will help a lot of people.

The last week was kind of a blur. All of us at the SW/DH household coasted into the driveway on fumes. Empty tanks--emotionally, physically, you name it. And Delighted Husband and I knew we both had to work Saturday and we were just flatlined about it. Could barely fog a mirror at the thought.

I remember thinking "God help" and I don't even think it was that coherent. But God heard. And God knew exactly what to do. (this is one of my favorite things about Himself) God sent my friends.

One friend sent me an email that said essentially, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm worried about you. You're working too hard. It's fine for you to be excited about this new calling God has invited you to, but you have to honor yourself and your family with the pace in which you do it." Wise man. And Grace of God I did not let my pride get in the way of hearing him. And Grace of God I did not let my pride get in the way of hearing Him. Cause they were singin' a duet. No doubt about it.

Another friend called me to check on me. After a few hiccups and interruptions I finally started to tell him the story of the last few days and the condition I was in because of it. Frazzled. Tired. Excited, but with an increasing sense of fatigue that had started a feeling of lowgrade panic. He listened--patiently, sympathetically--telling me that he and his wife had been praying for us. Then he smiled (I could just hear it through the phone) and said, "You know us guys, we have this tendency, this need, to want to 'fix it'. And even though I've listened sympathetically, and I think you feel supported, I just have this male need to offer a suggestion. Can you humor me?"

Sure!

"What I think you should do, is play. And do something really special. And get the whole family involved. And later, after the kids are in bed, in your own inimitable way, you should love your husband and let him love you."

And folks that's exactly what I did.

I called Delighted Husband and told him I was planning a night of fun and recreation and I wanted to know where he wanted to go out for dinner. A nice dinner. He was a bit surprized by the recommendation. Surprized in a good way. I mean I could tell his brain hadn't even been on the "how can I reward myself tonight" trajectory. Ding! Score one for Friend Dennis.
"Uh, wow, hon. What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Oh, nice dinner. Any place you like. And by any place, I mean you don't have to pick a place that can accomodate my athletic training diet. I'm going off-plan tonight. And I'm not the least bit worried about it. I hardly ate any carbs or calories earlier today anyway, but that's not the point. The point is you can pick the place YOU want to eat, not the place that it is the most likely source for non-breaded lean protein. Easy, baby. What are you hungry for?"
And he named the restaurant.
Done.
"What else do you have in mind?" his voice is a bit lighter now. Hope is growing.
"A movie in the gameroom. Something funny and lighthearted with the kids, and lots of cuddles during and afterward."
"Oh? Great! We should have plenty of Netflix in the mailbox."

Friends, I am delighted to report that--after a delicious dinner of casual yummy decadent food--we snuggled into comfy chairs and comfy couches and watched National Lampoon's Vacation. The classic one. The kids had never seen it and I hadn't seen it since college.

We laughed ourselves to the brink of goofyness and beyond.

There is something so healing and intimate about laughter. Laughing together. And catching the eye of someone you love and watching them get the joke and enjoying their laughter more than you enjoy your own. We did that all night long. Eyes sparkling, kids giggling, guffaws and belly laughs from Delighted Husband and me.

It. was. wonderful.

And at the end, when the the closing credits rolled, and the first line of the song was sung,
We went dannnncin, cross the U. S. AAAAAAAAA, on that craaaazy king's highwaaaaaaaay
I got up out of my recliner and said,
"Kids, it's time to dance."
"Oh no Mom, really. I'm fine. You go ahead and enjoy."
(translation: you go right ahead goofy mother I am waaaay too cool for that)
Before I can form a reply, Delighted Husband says "Mommy's right. Get up and dance."
Groaning and halfhearted shuffling, they dance, as I am twirling and laughing round the room.
Next thing I know, Delighted Husband is laughing and taking them by the hand and leading them in a silly squaredance. I grab two wrists and join in. We make a meandering circle, first one way and then another, with Delighted Husband leading the switch in a sudden haphazard motion designed to keep us too goofy to try and be graceful. I am laughing at full guffaw. So is Delighted Husband. One dear child is still being a pill.
Whiney voice:"Daddy's pulling my wrist. He's going to pull it OFF! Waaah waah gripe gripe"
I keep laughing and hug him close and sing along with the movie, "Well if you were dannnnncin, your wrissssst would not get pullllllllled."
By some small grace, they got it. Dear Child shook and chortled with laughter while still enveloped in my arms. Their shaking shoulders under my hands were one of the sweetest sensations I've ever felt.
We continued our Goofy Squaredance of Love until the song ended and the credits ran out. We were all high from the endorphins of laugh. It was glorious.

Delighted Husband went straight off to bed because he has to get up pre 6am.

Dear Child who finally danced asks me to stay in his room after tuck in "just to keep me company". He's not stalling to defer sleep. I can tell he really means it. I sit down on the Zepplin pillow in the corner of their room, and Dear Child crawls into his bed. I don't remember what we talked about, or if I even said anything at all. We were just happy and warmhearted, quietly breathing the same air in the room.
"I wish I could hold your hand."
"Okay, baby."
Dear Child scrambles out of the covers, wiggles down to the foot of the bed, lays his cheek on one hand and reaches for me with the other. I sit there, just breathing, calmly and silently, and hold his hand. I have to reach, and my delt starts to burn, but I don't care. My Alex P. Keaton too-cool-to-dance son, mumbles, "I love you mom" and falls asleep holding my hand.

Tell Them You Love Them

Tonight I sat down in my favorite easy chair while Delighted Husband played Mario Kart Wii with the kids. I wanted to just be in the same room with them, so I brought my scrapbooking supplies into the gameroom and set up shop on my lap desk. I've been thinking about one of my girlfriends since she is preparing to move farrrrr away and the chances to see her sweet face in person are going to be few and far between. But I wasn't feeling sad. I was feeling loved, and loving her. Taking stock of all the ways I have grown as a person because she loved me. So I let my heart use the language of paper and pictures and scissors and ribbon and I told her how much I love her and how rich my life is because of her.

We all have people in our life who love us.
People that we love.
Tell them.

Don't hold back those tender words, those tender touches, the squeeze of their hand while you look them in the eye, that extra pat on the back when you hug them, that meal where you go to the trouble to make something beautiful, that phone call just because.

Do it.
What are you waiting for?
An invitation?
Consider yourself invited.

Love to sweet James for saying this so well.

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!

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

Savor the Love, Scrap the Joy

I get tremendous joy from making things, the hands-on creative craftyness just thrills my soul. Cooking does this for me, the art of mixing different ingredients and the end result is I have created something of beauty.

I'm creating something of beauty in a different art form lately. Scrapbooking!

Several of my friends sent me emails or notes telling me how special I was to them and just what I meant to them. Of course, anytime something like this happens is a big deal and something to be savored. Well I'm learning how to savor it. How to feel the love longer than the 3 seconds it takes to say "awww! how sweet!" and give your friend a hug.

I do this by scrapbooking.

I take every sweet note my husband or friends give me and use them as raw material for a scrapbook page. That way, I have the card in an accessible form, an easily flipped page in a book instead of a card that will likely get lost in a dusty drawer somewhere.

But.
But.

Even better. By looking at the note, and taking my time to select a page and cutting out the note text and gluing it to a background cardstock in a coordinating color and then selecting all the fun doodads to glue or hammer on, I am soaking in the love, reading their words over and over. Looking at the picture of my friend and I. Savoring the memory.

Did I say hammer?
Yes I did!
Have you ever seen those cool little things?
They have little child-sized hammers that you use to punch a hole in the paper and them pound a cute little colorful metal thumbtack looking thing called an eyelet into the page. I never thought at my age, a thirtysomething wife and mom and wayyy girly-girl that I would enjoy SO MUCH the BAM BAM BAM BAM of using a hammer. Delighted Husband just looks over at me and grins. He can't believe it either.

It's just SO FUN to build stuff!
God, I love being human.

For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful

There was an article here that I really liked. It was very raw and vulnerable and I had a hard time posting it because it was about me experiencing an episode of depression when I quit taking the full dose of medication. The article compared taking medication that God has provided so I can be healthy and whole and alive physically and emotionally.....and taking communion as a reminder of the atonement that God has provided for me so I can be spiritually healthy and whole.

If part of the healing God has provided for me is a maintenance dose of antidepressant, I need to be humble and grateful and take it. Who am I to send a plateful of healing back to the master chef asking for a smaller serving?

I went to edit the article to change just a teeny word or two. I wanted to copy and paste it to save it offline. When I shift-clicked to select the whole article, the whole thing dissapeared. And a split second later, blogger autosaved my newly emptied article. Oh the horror!

I could try to re-create the article and I think I will because I think it served as an important reminder that the lovely moments I post about here are not without cost. I don't live in a scot-free pink haze of joy and pleasure. But often, quite often, when I stick with the painful growth process, God surprizes me with joy so lush that I can't help but write about it. I am redeemed. and I can't shut up about it.

But I think it's important to show, even at my own vulnerable expense, that all joy has a cost. My deep hope is that all of you will pay the high cost of growing in your own lives and reap the joy. I want that so bad for all of you I can't tell you how much. Wiping tears as I type, SensuousWife

You had me at hello

My friend Dena has been telling me about an awesome experience she had with Theophostic Prayer recently. Theophostic Prayer is a method of guided healing prayer where you invite Jesus to come into those dark aching places in your heart and ask him to heal you. It is very powerful and leaves you wanting everyone you care about to experience this healing and lay down their pain as well. Dena, who is one of the bravest and most generous-hearted women I know, volunteered to receive this healing prayer in a demonstration "practice session" at a conference recently. Normally, Theophostic Prayer is done in private and confidentiality, like confession or a counseling session. But Dena was willing to be the demo girl, letting people see how simple and real healing prayer can be. The way Dena tells it, "Welllllll, Jesus doesn't practice -- He showed up and did a doozy of a job on me, in front of God and everyone! Cool!"

Dena, you are one of the most brave willinghearted women I've ever heard of. I so love your passion and devotion and hunger for God. If he's handing out healing, you're the first in line and I just so love that about you. Even if that means standing in view of Man while you get that healing. Wow.

Which is what many of the hurting people in the Bible had to do. Jesus made a few house calls and one on one encounters. But so many of the dear healed ones got theirs standing in line or pressing in through a crowd. Interesting... Spirit quickly reminds me that of the few times Jesus made himself available to heal and restore one on one, it was with and for a woman. How well Jesus knows how to care for and heal our feminine hearts! I'm thinking of the woman at the well, and thinking of the sinful woman who lavished her love and repentance on Jesus washing his feet with her tears and drying his feet with her hair. By allowing this intimate act, and by offering his forgiving redeeming love to her throughout the process, Jesus let her/made her feel like she was the only woman in the world, even when the whole thing took place in front of (in the home of!) a meanspirited critical-spirited Pharisee audience. (and by the way how DID they KNOW she was a sinful woman? Any of them done any sampling? We don't know that do we?).

What we do know is it's not only safe but utterly healing and transforming to pour out our hearts and tears to Jesus because healing us, loving us forgiving us is what he had in mind all along. We don't have to sell God on healing and forgiving us. We don't have to beg him. When we come to Jesus broken, hungry, thirsty, and in need of forgiveness, Jesus word to us is "You had me at hello".

More Sugar Please

I've got it made
rest in the shade
and hold my love
while God above
stirs with a spoon
we share the moon
smile at the bees
more sugar, please
He really loves us after all
we're gonna need another straw
we're gonna need another strawwwww
—Chris Rice, Lemonade, Amusing Album

Eat O Lovers.
Drink and imbibe deeply!
Take it alllll in.
—God, Song of Solomon 5:1, paraphrased by Lorraine Pintus

How (great) big (enormous) is your goodness (everything that is nourishing delightful and right with the world) which you have stored up (by the truckload) for them that fear (respect, hold in awe and adore) you.
—David, Psalm 31:19, paraphrased by Sensuous Wife

God has so much good stuff for us that we have to make an effort to take it all in. Take it alllll in. Hmm...I'm noticing a theme here. How about you?-SW

The Year of Discipleship

A long time ago, I was given this little plastic business card holder with a bunch of business card sized nice little 'thought for the day' cards. I think they were something about new years resolutions. The cards I threw out years ago. But I kept the business card holder. It was shiny clear lucite and it said The Year of Discipleship in pretty red script.

This Valentine's day, I made love coupons for my honey. I used a business card wizard from a software on my computer to make them all pretty with sensuous text and my pictures with color printing from my computer. So when I was looking for an attractive way to package my love coupons, I remembered that business card holder. Just the right size for my coupons! ;)

I think God smiled, okay laughed for the pure hilarity of this when I gave my husband this darling little package of love coupon cards offering him such earthy delights as "25 kisses not on the mouth", "outdoor adventure", "warm oil massage" or "sexy striptease" all being held in a case that said "The Year of Discipleship". After all, isn't discipleship putting the Bible into action in your life? So we've got a little Song of Solomon discipleship going on at our house. Hubby says "Amen!" -SW