I've been given so much

I've been given so much.
As I consider my life, I am astounded at the too-much grace of God.
I'm having one of those moments of clarity, y'all so please be my witnesses.
Life is good.
Life is immeasurably good because life is the gift of an immeasurably good God.
I have come to believe that the best way I can write a suitable thank you note to God is to live this life he gave me in such a way that I don't miss a morsel.
My life is filled with immeasurable sweetness.
The curly hair on my husband's head brushing my fingertips as I caress him for the millionth time.
The wind cupping my hair and cheek in a rushing caress as I race my children in a bicycle race.
The calm stately aliveness coursing through my posture as I stand erect arms outstretched chin lifted a smile hugging my face as I sing out my worship.
The pleasure on the faces of my family as I read to them.
The winking twinkle of delight in my brain as I learn something new.
The incomparable comfort of a friend's voice on the phone whether I am giving them my comfort or they are giving me theirs or both as usually happens.
The soul-deep gratitude for the afterglow of lovemaking, cherishing the feeling that for a few minutes every cell in our two bodies are lined up and doing exactly as they should be and that sweet awareness that every star and cell and planet in the world is dancing their known beautiful rhythm.
The sweet understanding that suffering will sometimes happen and that its purpose is to draw me to God, to nudge me into that sweet leaning on the everlasting arms.
The honoring humbling beautiful certainty that every choice I make counts and that I've been endowed with the power to offer beauty to the humans in my world.
Every folded towel
every lovely nourishing meal
every sharp word swallowed instead of spoken
every time my palm wraps around the cheek of someone I love, it matters. They all matter.
Every flower I coax out of the ground
every endless mess I sweep from my floor
every laundered and unshrunk outfit
every guest who feels welcomed and set free to make memories
every customer who is treated fairly and generously
every piece of paper that counted and filed and processed and administrated
every piece of jewelry selected and worn with a smile and a spring in my step
every sorrow I give to God on suffering bended knees or on fists clenched in outrage
it all matters.
Very very much.
Every phone call I do not answer so I can make love to my husband
Every phone call I answer holding the invisible hand of my girlfriend
Every hastily sent "i love u" text message
Every "bye darling" hollered as I walk out the kitchen door
Every "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Will you please forgive me?"
It all matters.
Very very much.
Every miraculous moment when the heroic grace of God bumps my mind out of the selfdestructive rut it sometimes finds itself
It matters.
And God Almighty is in every single one of these moments.

I talk alot about sex on this blog.
I talk alot about feelings and beauty and love.
Seen by itself, this blog isn't balanced.
Seen up against cnn, msnbc, foxnews and every grisly headline in every newspaper, this blog is my little pebble towards equal time and balance. When pebbles of grace outweigh boulders of despair, you know God has put his hand on the scale.

I love you all.
Thank you for reading.

Come Lord Jesus

The question is not Will your heart ever feel desperate need? but What will you do with your desperate need when you feel it? Cause you'll experience desperate need. Everyone does.

Last night was a miserable restless night. A nightmare double feature where every one who has ever been cruel, unkind or rejecting in my life made a cameo appearance. I awoke feeling exhausted and beleaguered. A beggar soul. Bereft and alone. Despair weighed heavy. It was a battle for my heart.

Delighted Husband knew just what to do. He stood in front of me, half polished businessman and half sleepy husband. Thank God he hadn't put his shirt on yet. He drew me to his chest, and enfolded me in his arms. Cradled my head against his chest, his palm blessing my face with protective affection. And he prayed. He prayed for Jesus to defend me from the lies and tell me the truth about who I really am. "Yes" I whispered. "yes" The rejection and sorrow of the dreams fought for airtime on the movie screen in my mind. "tell me Baby. You tell me the truth" and so he did. He held me and caressed my hair and told me simple truth about my redemption. Who I really am. The reality the beauty of my redeemed heart. The good truth.

After Delighted Husband prayed, I had the strength to get out of bed and suit up for battle. I took my show on the road. Literally. I put on my running gear and hit the road. Ready to sweat it out. To let all the negativity be washed away by sunshine and sweat and worship. I scrolled through the songs on my mp3 player till I got to my favorite prayer. The one where John Eldredge prays over all the women at the Captivating retreat. As I walked and stretched and sweated, John did battle on my behalf. It felt so good. I breathed in good air and breathed out "yes. yes. yes Lord Jesus" agreeing with the prayer and renouncing the lies. This went on till John was done praying, a good ten minutes or so.

The noisy toxic chatter now silenced, I switched over to music. Chris Tomlin, God love him, Chris Tomlin was right there singing in my headphones:
What can take a dying man
raise him up to life again
what can heal the wounded soul
what can make us white as snow
what can fill the emptiness
what can mend our broken-ness?
mighty awesome wonderful
is the holy cross
where the lamb lay down his life
to lift us from the fall
mighty is
the power of the cross.

My heart and my muscles warmed up. The sun on my face and the trickle of sweat between my shoulder blades and the stretching moving rhythm of my legs as I picked up speed...all felt like mercy and life. I was waking up from a bad bad dream.

It was a glorious workout.

Stretching and cooldown was paradoxically more about my spirit even as I focused my attention on stretching my muscles. When VineyardUK sang, it felt like a personal invitation, just for me.
all who are thirsty
all who are weak
come to the fountain
dip your heart in the streams of life
let the pain and the sorrow
be washed away
on the waves of this mercy
as deep cries out to deep
we sing
come Lord Jesus come
wontcha come wontcha come Lord?
come Lord Jesus come
come Lord Jesus come

As I sang, I closed my eyes and visualized that place in my heart. That empty lonely place left rejected and alone by all those memories I'd dreamed about last night. I pictured that gap in my heart. And I sang with all the breath in my body:
come Lord Jesus come
wontcha come wontcha come Lord?
come Lord Jesus come
come Lord Jesus come

He did. Oh my God, y'all. He did. I felt those gaps in my heart filling up. The anxiety and insecurity melted away. That hole in my heart where I used to stuff chocolate. Oh my God. I focused on my need and sang out "come Lord Jesus" and he did. He really did.

Oh friends. It is so much easier to be kind when my nagging awful need is dealt with. So much easier to be kind to husband and children and customers and friends. So much easier to be kind, actually kind to my self. So much easier to be the sensuous generous wife I truly desire to be.

So take a lesson, ya'll.
When that place in your solar plexus is so empty is staggers you, cry out "Come Lord Jesus" and he will. He truly will. -SW

Allies Til Death, Part Two

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

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

What does this have to do with marriage?
Plenty.

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

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

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

Sex as an act of worship

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

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

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

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