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

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

Spirit in the Senses

I experienced the loving presence of Spirit tonight, talking to me in the things I know, talking to me through my senses, in the visual serenity of our beautiful room, in the warm glow of candles, in the soothing heat of the Jacuzzi tub, in the scent of bubble bath, in the beautiful music playing on my earphones. I was alone, but I wasn’t. Loving and living the Sacred Romance. Delighted Husband walked in and smiled when he saw me so blissed out. DH wasn’t the main attraction, but he doesn’t mind being pre-empted by Himself.

Me, Myself and Sally, Rhonda and Wanda

I just read the most funny and relevant article on how to keep your Wonderland well cared for. Seriously, girls, you're gonna love this. It's not like we never heard of it before, but what a fabulous funny reminder. (walks out of home office toward bedroom looking for Myself)

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

Committment, Cleavage & Confidence

I've said it before. Wearing great lingerie gives every wife a sense of confidence and joy, even sassyness. Whether you're at the kids soccer game, in a business meeting, grocery shopping at SuperTarget, or on a date with your DH....
knowing you look great all under makes you feel good all over.
And no, I don't work for Victoria's Secret. I just love feeling good about being a sexually confident wife and inviting my girlfriends to feel good being sexually confident wives too. And this bra comes in a wide range of sizes. Like sexually confident wives. ;)

The best cool-down song ever

This is the song that played while I was doing my cool-down stretches.
Bliss.

I am SO glad I went to the gym

I nearly bout fell asleep today around 3pm. Tahrd as we say in the South. I took off at 4 and drove straight home, with visions of high thread count sheets dancing in my head. Nice. soft. bed. sleep. short nap. before Delighted Husband gets home. Ahhhhh.....
But right as I turned into my subdivision, I thought, "Wait. How long has it been since I've been to the gym? Nearly a week. Eeek."
So I turned the car around and drove to the gym, promising my griping and complaining body that if I still wanted sleep when I got home after the gym, I could have sleep.

It was hard to get in the groove. I made my way around the circuit. Ho hum. Then this song

came up on the playlist rotation. God, yes. Thank you Sheryl! Followed immmediately by A Change Will Do You Good. Okay, yeah. I get it already. I started to feel my groove.

The rest of the workout was a sweaty happy mess. And of course I feel wonderful and have no desire to sleep now. Can you say 'give the girl some oxygen'? I knew you could! ;)

PS Tom, you will be pleased to hear I did not dodge the mirrors. And honestly, what I thought was "hey my arms are smaller" (yay) "hey my boobs are not" (YAY) and "holy cow, I'm jogging in place, not just stepping lively. and it feels good!" (big enormous YAY)
(laughing) -SW

Sometimes it helps if you grunt

I've been working out at a gym for a while and I recently took it to the next level by having a trainer set some goals for me. Today was the first day worked out on the new goal level. It was hard. It was harrrrrrd work! Without trying to, or conciously thinking about it, I groaned while I did the last 2 reps on the weight machine. It helped. It really helped. In the split second after making that sound of pure agonized effort, two thoughts immediately raced through my mind.
1) Good Lord! That's so unladylike.
2) That really helped. I think I'll try it again the next time I'm struggling on the last rep.

Something else that helps?
I mean really helps.
I turn away from the mirrors. I need to focus on what my mind and body is doing, not keeping up the running commentary on body image. I deliberately shifted my concentration
from
sight—(what do I look like? Does my whatever look fat?)
to
touch—(am I reaching equal range of motion? Do I feel out of breath? Do I need to slow down?)

It really helped.

Y'all know I like wearing a cleaveage-and-chiffon dress as much as the next girl, but sometimes I have to give myself permission to be unladylike to get the job done.

Please pray for me. I am really going for it and I need encouragement.

Touch-Beauty-Love

I had the hardest time thinking of a title for this one so I'll just tell my story and see if a title presents itself.

I sang on the way home from work today. Happy songs. Thrumming beat that felt like joy. I sang angel of harlem and i sang it just for a friend of mine who I know loves this song. Zooming down the freeway, I moved my arms like a forties USO torch singer and enjoyed myself so much.

As soon as I got home, I ran in the house to kiss Delighted Husband and then dashed off to my neighborhood salon. I love the lady who owns the salon and she loves me back. Which is why I felt comfortable dashing in unannounced and asking for an impromptu do. "Five minutes, no problem" she said.

I sat down in her chair, swigged my icy cold bottled water, savored my atkins almond joy, and waited. Within five minutes, I felt her comb sliding along my scalp, giving her a good look at just how long it had been since I'd taken my sweet self in for scheduled maintenance. It had been too long. But life happens. "He-looo. You no been here long time. I so happy see you. You want same? Same roots? Same highlights?" "Yes, darlin'," I told her, "same is great. same is perfect. give me same."

She knows I am hot-natured, and I had been dashing into my house and out of my house, pausing just long enough to kiss Delighted Husband hello, kiss Delighted Husband goodbye, and change out of my fancy work duds into some running shorts and a t-shirt that I wear to the salon because I wouldn't care if they got hair color gel on them. She'd seen me literally jog into her salon and ask her if she could do me, so she knew I was hot. My sweet hair lady, brought a fan over to my station, a nice tall pedestal fan that swishes back and forth, planted it right in front of my chair, aimed it at my flushed and sweating-at-the-temples face, and turned the fan on high. Maker of Heaven and Earth, did that feel good! "Thank you sweetheart!" I looked at her with a smile that reached my eyes.

She ran back "behind the curtain" which could be a post unto itself. It's so Wizard of Oz how the Sacred Prophets Of Hair dissapear Behind The Curtain into The Sacred Unseen Place and come back bearing the Sacred Oils Of Transforming Power and Beauty. Looking at it like a sociologist, I feel like I woke up in the Egyptian exhibit at a museum. And who wouldn't want to feel like that?

I was touched by what came next. Happy and wired and rushed as I was, having just dashed in from the 95 degree outside world, I was hyperaware of my skin, my hair and my overall awareness of touch. Which is why the Sacred Oils of Transforming Power and Beauty, which for me were a cold white gelpaste that she paints on the roots of my hair. Oh my God, y'all it felt SO GOOD. My sweet hair lady brushed cold paste all over my scalp.

the power of intent. I felt how much love and care was in her touch. You can tell.

Remember that "kids say the wisest things" email that circulated a few years ago where the little 8 year old girl says, "never let your mom brush your hair when she is mad at your dad". Remember that? Well, the exact opposite is true. When my Sweet Hair Lady works on my hair, I can tell that she cares. Not just cares about doing a good job but cares about me. She enjoys watching me feel better.

Delighted Husband and Beloved Child are hungry. And we can't go to dinner till my hair is done and I get home to pick them up, so I tell Sweet Hair Lady this and ask her for a second dryer and round brush so I can help. I dry and style the front of my hair, SHL dries and styles the back. We look like a sitcom. Two laughing girls trying to hurry my hair dry as soon as possible.

By the time she is done, I feel like the belle of the ball. Sweet Hair Lady's mother, who also works at the salon, speaks very little English. But her smile is genuine. "You look like movie star!". I smile back and toss my head. "I feel like movie star!" I say. I leave them an extra big tip and rush out the door.

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.

Desire Purpose and Direction all Come Together

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

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

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

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

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

We part with smiles on both our faces.

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

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

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

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

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

Our Bodies Matter to Jesus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get a load of this!

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

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

Wait, there's more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oliver Davies puts it this way:

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

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

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

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

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

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

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

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

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

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

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

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

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

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

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

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

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

Isn't it?

Love,
SW

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

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

How to Make Hot Sensuous Coffee

Sweet Jen over at Pretty Modest bemoaned the fact that her two favorite coffee shops were now unavailable so she had gone back to Mr. Coffee as a last resort. I promised her I'd share my recipe with her here. So nobody else read this! This is only for Jen! (giggle)

Tools/Ingredients

• Purified Water


• French Press Coffeepot


• Good Coffee Turkish Grind
  (I'm giving you lots of creative license here. My thought is if it comes whole bean in a bag, you're on the right track. Pick a flavor, pour it into the grinder at the grocery store and dial that baby all the way over to Turkish. It will look like powder when it's ground.)


• Half n Half real dairy as in from a cow not that corn syrup solids business


• Your favorite sweetening agent Splenda or sugar


• A can of whipped cream
  

Steps to Coffee Bliss:

1. Put a pot of purified water on the stove to boil.


2. Put two tablespoons turkish ground coffee into the French press.


3. When the water boils, pour it over the coffee into the French press.


4. Wait 4 minutes. If I am in a hurry, I wait just 1.


5. The coffee will be dark and opaque. This is good.


6. Pour the coffee into a cup and saucer if you're going for a girly girl vibe or into a big mug if you're going for broke.


7. Fill the cup 2/3 full.


8. Add sugar or Splenda. Be generous.


9. Stir until sugar dissolves.


10. Add half-n-half. Be generous.


11. Put a dollop of whipped cream on top.


12. Sip the coffee with a happy slurpy sound and and grin cause you've got a cream moustache!

If you're already hot under the collar, then you can pour this over crushed ice. It's strong coffee, it will stand up to ice.

Hope you enjoy it, Jen! I'll post the chillin' blend-your-way-to-heaven coffee recipe next.

Treat Yourself, Queens of the Kingdom!

I took the day off today and treated myself.
I was Queen for a Day. (and every other day) but I've always wanted to say that
I took the kids to school and took the time to meet with DC1's counselor and principal to make sure DC1 is getting everything they need to succeed. This is not a parenting blog so I won't go into long details. Just to say that I went to bat for my kid and I did it with a calm won't-back-down stance. I was friendly, and smiled, and thanked the educators on the team yet I held onto myself and spoke my truth with confidence. I know what DC1 needs and I am determined they will get it. There was a big tangled up ball of yarn issue that I've been working on this week, and while the principal was walking me out, they thanked me for doing such a great job being a champion and advocate for my child. This from the person who had been stonewalling me earlier. I was gracious and kind, and I felt my crown sparkle as I walked through the parking lot out to my car. Yes! I am Queen! I may have been the only one who could see my crown, but I knew it was there. (Suzanne Sugarbaker smile)

As I drove home, I was a bit uneasy hoping my new cleaning lady would show. I had not called her yesterday to confirm (remind) her and I checked my phone for her number, realized I didn't have it, and made a mental note to look up her number on my desk as soon as I got home. I never needed to. I arrived home at 8:59 to find her waiting for me. Smiling on the back porch. A responsible adult who shows up promptly for their appointment made 3 weeks ago. THANKS BE TO GOD! I could have hugged her! and I would have but my arms were full of cleaning supplies I was bringing in from the garage.

Now my domicile has been more than a little bit topsy turvy lately. I've had lots of men wearing workboots and toolbelts with names like Bubba and Earl all OVER my house during the last month and they were all done for the foreseeable future and I was time me and my much appreciated new cleaning lady to put all to rights in my little kingdom. I want to point something out. Something very special and loving. I did it for me. I knew the kids and Delighted Husband would enjoy the lovely sparkling clean space all light and airy and organized. But I did it primarily for me. I did it for the joy of it because that is what Queens do: they put their kingdoms to rights. Set things in beauty and welcoming order. Now Queenly confidence aside, there is no frickin way I would attempt to restore order to THIS domicile all by myself. No ma'am. But with a friend, with a capable kind strong smart lady to help me? Piece a cake! Well, yeah a piece of cake but a cake you have to bake. From scratch. But you get to eat it.

My favorite Fedex delivery driver delivered a package today. I answered smiling, out of breath and sweating. a lot. "Girl what're you doin?" he said with a grin. "Oh hey. I've got a new cleaning lady." "Then why are you sweatin?" I looked ruefully over my shoulder. "There's a lot to do."

We cleaned.
and cleaned.
and cleaned.

I say we not in the royal sense. I mean we both me and the dear cleaning lady put my house in order one room at a time. She did the scrubbing and the heavy stuff. I put stuff away where I know it belongs and washed, dried and folded laundry like nobody's business.

And I enjoyed it.

Swear to God.

Now I know this could really sound Stepfordish. But trust me anyone who knows me would crack up laughing at the notion of ME as a Stepford wife. What I'm trying to say is that today, for the first time in my life, I enjoyed housework. Something shifted inside my head this morning and I thought, "Hey, I have to live here. I deserve somewhere beautiful and decent and lovely to live in so I think I'll just make this place decent and beautiful and lovely enough for the likes of me!"

So I did.

I've been reading this great book How Starbucks Saved My Life. About an unemployed Ad Executive who gets a job in a Starbucks store and experiences the unexpected joy of hard work and taking pride in a job well done. I guess it's rubbed off on me.

After I treated myself to a beautiful sparkling light airy orderly home, after paying DCL and hugging her and scheduling her return date, I treated myself to a bath in my sparkling clean jacuzzi tub. Blissed out on pleasure and smelling sweetly of lily of the valley, I put myself down for a nap.

I woke up to the sounds of the kids coming home from school.

This is one of the best days off I've ever had. I treated myself. I worked so hard I got in my target heart rate.

Will I enjoy seeing how encouraged and comforted Delighted Husband is when he drags his weary self home and sees our gorgeous little kingdom?
Sure.
But I did it for me.
I treated myself.
(ting!) That's the sound of my crown sparkling. (grin) SW

I want him

I had a really good week. And the only thing different about this good week and last week terrible week was I scheduled a little time for myself each day, doing nice things for myself. I met one of my girlfriends for lunch. More than once this week! I took myself in for some scheduled maintenance at the salon. I took myself to the gym to sweat out my frustration over various vendor-created headaches. I'm telling you, this exercise-as-stress-relief thing REALLY works!

All the daily irritations of life still happened, but they didn't dominate my thinking or tank my attitude. All because I made time for taking care of myself.

And as a result, I'm entering this weekend, happy and horny instead of tired and grouchy.

In fact, I can't wait to get my hands on my man!
(grin) The weather round here is happy and horny!
(grin) (wave)
I'm putting nice clean sheets on the bed knowing full well I'll need to switch them again on Monday.
I don't mind at all.
;)

Face to Face With Extraordinary Women

Ooooh! How do I describe the energy to be found in the company of women? Time set aside just to gab face to face. Time to play, which for us girls can be doing craft-y things like scrapbooking or cardmaking, or can be telling stories and just generally goofing off.

I met the most incredible women tonight. I don't know that they would call themselves incredible, but seen through my eyes, they are. I went to a scrapbooking party tonight. One of the women at my table was a twinkly-eyed grandma sporting a cute hat. When I told her I thought her hat was cute, she grinned and shrugged off the complement saying "oh this is just to cover up my motorcycle helmet hair".
What???
Yep. You heard that right.
This amazing grandma and her man rode several hundred miles today. Having a real Wild at Heart moment apparently! and here she was sitting with us tonight, trimming pictures and selecting background pages and complementary stickers. After riding several hundred miles on a motorcycle. Today. Whoa! What a woman!

Another woman I met tonight was a soft plush girly-girl with a timeless Celtic face straight out of a book or movie. She brought fiftysomething different stamps three colors of inkpads and made these exquisite cards! And for part of the evening, she nursed her adorable baby while conversing with us, never breaking her stride. This woman created beauty and made it look effortless. and she did so while nurturing life and teaching me how to do stamping. While making funny charming conversation with the women at our table. Whoa! What a woman!

We women are an extraordinary tribe. We really are.

Garden of Delight

Today I'm enjoying the sense of sight and smell and touch and hearing and the deep inner knowing of sensuous self-awareness. And I'm getting very dirty in the process!

(laugh)
What am I doing?

I'm reflowering my garden. Four flats of petunias are making themselves at home in beds and boxes and pots all over my garden.

I LOVE flowers. Y'all know this. Many of you may remember the last time I experienced the Sacred Romance, God gave me flowers. Well He's done it again, and this time I don't just get to look at them, I get to play with them. I say play because truly it feels like the delighted absorption of child's play instead of the hurried labor of landscaping by the clock.

The petunias, big rich purple blossoms heavy with scent, are so vibrant and extravagant with blooms 4 inches across they run the risk of being gaudy, but instead they come across as unashamedly profligate—self-satisfied in their fragrant velvety elegance.

The cool but not too cool breeze wafting over my skin feels soothing and refreshing. As though the very air is saying "wake up" and "welcome back" to skin exposed by my swimsuit...skin that hasn't seen outdoor light all the long winter. Skin that was apparently quite appreciated...according to the the admiring glance of the teenaged boys in the neighborhood. Their admiring looks hidden in friendly greetings both embarrassed and flattered me. At my age! (giggle)

All the kids in the neighborhood must be away at soccer games or indoors playing gamecube, because they're not outdoors playing their happy screaming games of chase. It's so quiet outdoors I can hear the birds singing. No noise. Not even a lawnmower! It's just my day. A present from Himself.

I've long thought that all creation quietly sings with Eros and today only confirms my suspicion.

There's something so earthy and wonderful about laying down on your belly, propped up by your elbows, at eye level with soil and earthworms and leaves and mulch and sweet delicate blossoms attached to living green stems attached to roots so overgrown and eager for new soil that they look like tufts of white hair. These little plants are so ALIVE just teeming with life and fertility and color! I love the voracious nature of roots growing beyond the plastic pot searching reaching demanding MORE MORE MORE!

So yeah I like my gardening. ;)

And I also savor this feminine self-awareness deep inside, knowing that even though my knees and elbows are caked with dirt, my aquasocks are caked with mud and my gloves are so dirty the sunny yellow is barely visible, I feel a secret satisfied joy in knowing that underneath all that dirt is a woman all beautifully manicured and pedicured and lovely. There is beauty above the dirt (my lovely petunias) and there is beauty underneath the dirt (my lovely me).

Fertility and beauty and color and joy!
God, I love being a woman.

Widen my World

Today was my ideal mailbox experience. Nothing in my mailbox except netflix DVDs and Christmas cards! No bills. I did a little whoop of joy right there standing in front of the mailbox.

Once I got inside the house, I sat down on the couch and absorbed the Christmas cards like sweet sweet wine. Several people are sending pictures this year. It's getting cheaper and easier to do picture cards and I love seeing my friends!

One card from a girlfriend who moved last winter. When I saw the picture of her and her husband and their two little daughters, I cried for joy. The girls are captivating and it was good to see them growing but the thing that delighted me the most was the serene calm confident look on my friend's face. The year before had been difficult for her and it was glorious to see her face because I could tell by her demeanor that she had hit her stride. I knew from the few letters we had exchanged that during the past year, her baby had become a toddler, her toddler had become a preschooler, and her broke medical school fellow husband had become a well paid and celebrated new partner. My dear girlfriend is no longer a broke stressed out mom with a new baby and a toddler. In that moment, I could see all our prayers for her family from the last 3 years had been answered. Life is not perfect for her (or anyone else for that matter) but God honored her years of sacrifice by giving her financial and parenting relief and I rejoiced for her.

One card from some friends we met this year. These friends enjoy words as much as I do, so the greeting they penned on the inside of the card was heartwarming and made me smile through tears. The artwork on the card was breathtaking.

Another card from friends who sent us a fruit basket. Which is so sweet and old-fashioned and nobody does that kind of thing anymore. But she's classy like that. This aint the fruitbaskets from raffles either! These were gourmet pears from Oregon nested in individual foam containers to keep them from bruising. Other goodies like pecans and chocolate-covered cherries made this box a real hit with our family. The sweetest treat was the letter which basically said "We know we don't talk very often but we love you very very much."

Y'all I sat on my sofa and cried. I realized there are so many people that love me...who I also love and I had little to no time to talk to them this year. I'm so grateful for my friends and I want to make more time for them in the new year.

I realized my world is too small. Work>Home>MamaCircuit>HubbyTime with a weekly spiritual pit stop to refuel at Church and an hour of GirlfriendTime.

Nothing wrong with any of those. But my world is too small. Next year my world promises to expand. Some delightful stuff is going to be added to my dance card next year, recurring events including a Girlfriends Scrapbooking Club and a Ladies Worship Dance Guild. I am SO looking forward to widening my world a bit. Pondering how I can better stay in touch with some of these out of town friends AND adding some local FUN stuff, thank God. Cause work will eat my lunch if I let it.

Do you see any opportunities to widen your world in 2008?
What kind of nourishing intentional community can you add to your dance card next year?
Treat yourself.
Once you get our there and engage, your heart will be a blessing to others.
Love,
SW

The Orgasmic Diet

I keep getting emails asking me about The Orgasmic Diet. ;)
I'm sure I'll have more to say about it as the weeks go on, but I will say a few practical things in answer to the most frequently asked questions.

How do you tell if the fish oil capsules are high-quality?
Okay as to how to tell if its high quality or not, look at the label. For every 1 gram of fat, there should be a combined total of over 500 mg of EFA and DHA. In other words if its not more than half EFA and DHA, then its full of unrefined junk and will make you burp.

What is the dosage?
As to the dosage, there's a great big chart in the book that goes by body weight. Marrena went to a lot of time and trouble to write her book so I don't feel right about publishing her dosage chart. You can get the book for 30% off on Amazon.

What kind of fish oil do you take?
I don't mind telling you this since I spent some time shopping around and finding the high-quality fish oil in the right proportion for the lowest price. I take Mega Fish Oil EPA-DHA and Neuromins DHA, both from Vitamin Shoppe. I really like this combo because I can take the EPA during the day to keep my mind sharp during the number-crunching workday and I can take the DHA with dinner to prime my body for (ahem) responsiveness later in the evening. (blush)

Anything else?
Why yes, thank you for asking! LOL Eating a protein and vegetable diet combined with fish oil can be a lot for your body to digest. I find I digest and assimilate nutrients better when I take an enzyme supplement with meals.

There's more to The Orgasmic Diet than food and fish oil—as I said, Marrena did a great job writing this book—but I think this is enough for now to address the emails I've been getting. -SW