In Full Bloom

I want to show y'all how beautifully the flowers are in full bloom. Aren't they lovely?


I want to live like that. I want to live in full bloom, fully showing my beauty, fully showing my glory, fully sharing my joy. I believe we bloom under the touch of someone who loves us. By bloom I mean we become our best selves, we develop into our full gorgeousness. Gorgeous spirit. Gorgeous body. Can't you just see the sparkle in a woman's eye when she knows she's loved? The peace on her face, the serenity?

Can being loved make you look younger? Research says it can.
According to research done by David Weeks, a clinical neuropsychologist at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital, making love 3 times a week in a stress-free relationship can make you look 10 years younger. Dr. Weeks studied more than 3500 men and women between the ages of 18 and 102. In his study, a panel of judges viewed the participants through a one way mirror and then guessed the age of each subject. A group of men and women were labeled 'super young' whose ages were underestimated by 7-12 years. Can you imagine?

I want to be like that, don't you? What choices are you willing to make so that you live in full bloom?
Love,
SW

Add to the Beauty

We come with beautiful secrets
We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls
We come to every new morning
With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange place, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations
It brings redemption to life and work
To our lives and our work

It comes in loving community
It comes in helping a soul find it's worth

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
This is grace, an invitation

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out our best

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

My First Video

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

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

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

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. ;)

My first SexyMamaMoment

When our first child was born, he spent the first few days of his life in the neonatal intensive care unit at the hospital. Delighted Husband and I were there with him nearly all the time. This was before my awakening so sexy wasn't usually on my radar. I had not yet cultivated my worldview that I was a sexy woman. But I had this moment. And I want to share it with you.

Beloved Child was a bit premature, and fussy, so the pediatrician suggested I open my blouse and give my baby skin-to-skin contact. They had these beautiful pale yellow privacy shades they placed around my rocking chair. Feeling a little awkward but hungry to hold my baby and let him know mama was there, I unbuttoned my maternity blouse, unwrapped my little darling (he looked like a little burrito in that white hospital blanket!) and laid my sweet baby against my abdomen and covered us both with a blanket. He was jaundiced, so he looked so foreign next to my skin. But in his face he looked just like me and in my heart he felt like mine! mine! mine! It was a peaceful, quiet moment amidst all the beeping chaos of the NICU.

Then I looked at his father.

Delighted Husband was looking at me and Beloved Baby like we were all that was precious in the world. And then I caught it..that quick tiny sparkle in his eye. Just like that, I was lost in the tractor beam of Delighted Husband's gaze. Without words, we remembered what we did to create this child. A blush crept over my cheeks and I looked at Delighted Husband with this self-aware heat in my eyes. My eyes said, "We made love. It was fabulous. You made me pregnant, and now I have this amazing little person nestled up against my skin. Oh my God."

In that moment, Delighted Husband snapped a picture.

And in an instant, the moment was over. The nurse walked up to draw blood from Beloved Child and crying and chaos pushed in and drowned out the moment.

Weeks later, I went to the store where I had gone for the film to be developed. When I got to that SexyMamaMoment photo, I was elated. Standing there in the pharmacy all disheveled and sleep deprived, I looked at that photo and thought, "oh my God, is that really me?" and it was. I didn't feel sexy there in the store. At all. At all. At all. But in my trembling hands I held photographic proof that my moment had really happened.

I put it in the photo album, along with all the other photos of Beloved Child's first six weeks. When friends from church asked to see baby pictures, I didn't think twice about handing over the photo album while I went to go boil some water for tea. I don't remember what he said, but I remember one of our church friends coughing and looking at me in an embarrassed putdown way and swiftly handing off the baby album like it was contaminated. I was flooded with embarrassment. I didn't have much confidence then. And I was Southern and here was a guest in my home offended by something I had given him. I was seriously infected with the disease to please. When our friends went home that night, I took out the picture of my first SexyMamaMoment, and I tore it up. To this day, there is a blank spot in that baby photo album. And oh I would fill it if I could. I have searched for the negative and I cannot find it. I have tears in my eyes just remembering what has been lost. How I would love to see that picture today!

There's a lesson here, my darlings. Don't let anyone look down on you for owning and recognizing that you are a sexual being. Don't let others erase your beautiful defining moment or put down your identity as a beautiful sexual creature created by God. Hold on to the good in your life. Hold on tight! Stretch marks and mortgages and fatigue and soccer leagues and teacher meetings and client meetings and HOA meetings will try to push in and take those moments from you by encroaching on the time those moments can occur. But hold on tight!

Looking back, I realize that man was an illmannered prude and I was a naive woman who gave away her validation card quite too easily. Not any more.

Like most of my aha! heartfelt moments, this was inspired by another blogger who generously shared their heart in a post. So thank you Mama of Romance for your beautiful post Feeling Beautiful: It's Up to You.
She says, "Because I feel like I am beautiful, it shines through.
It's so much easier to enjoy sex, to be passionate, and to love making love when you feel beautiful.
Being a woman is an incredibly powerful thing.
The curves, the soft skin, the feminine features.
Giving birth, having a baby, motherhood - it's all a beautiful thing.
Mother's are beautiful."

Amen, sista!

I would add: when you do have a moment when you feel beautiful, don't let anybody talk you out of it. Nobody but you and God have the right to decide whether or not you're beautiful. And God has already voted Yes.

Love,
SW

Women Olympians

I am watching my favorite part of the whole Olympics...the Parade of Nations.
I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.
The women.
They are so beautiful.
All so different
so differently beautiful
and all of them so beautiful I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. Unplanned, these words keep leaping from my throat,
"Look at her! She's so beautiful!"
There is no formula. There is no specifications list. No engineering document dictating cheekbones must be at a particular angle or eyes must be a certain size. I look at each woman Olympic athlete and I see a woman in her glory. And she knows it. This is perhaps the the crowning moment of her life. And she is so beautiful. And she knows it. So alive. Beaming energy so vibrant it makes the stadium lights redundant. Glory.

Women are so beautiful.

Three and a Half Seconds

God did it again. Made me feel gorgeous when I didn't expect it.

I was wearing an especially womanly woman dress at work yesterday. A fetching little number with cap sleeves, a sailor bow neckline with a tiny amount of peekabo cleavage and a twirly knee-length skirt. I always feel like I've stepped onto the set of a forties World War Two movie when I wear this dress. I even wore pearls and red lipstick. Makes me feel so good!

Delighted Husband had left for work before I did and since I often change into something more comfortable when I get home from work, I doubted he'd see me in this dress. So I wasn't really thinking about my lover seeing me all dolled up, I just did it for me.

So I was lost in thought around lunchtime while on my way to see one of my girlfriends for a drive by hugging. You know that thing where you don't have an entire lunch hour but you take the elevator to your friend's floor just to give her a hug and chat for 5 minutes? Well I love those drive by huggings. It's like the relational version of taking a hit at an oxygen bar. (deep breath happy sigh).

So I was scurrying along the shiny marble floors of Corporate America when I had to pause to wait for an elevator. As I was entering the elevator lobby, a tall stranger was leaving the elevator lobby. He was olive skinned and foreign, although I couldn't tell from where. For three and a half seconds, Olive Skinned Foreigner's eyes met mine for an instant, traveled down my body and up again to meet my eyes with a luminious look of assessment and delight. His friends continued to talk to him and he ignored them. For three and a half seconds, this man looked at me like I was a Ferrarri.

I couldn't tell where he was from by looking at him, could have been the Meditteranean, could have been somewhere in the East. Wherever Olive Skinned Foreigner was from, he was from one of those places in the world where it's not considered rude to stare at a woman for three and a half seconds with a look of frank assessment and obvious delight. Different cultures have very different ideas about feminine beauty. Many foreign cultures admire and embrace voluptuous women. Literally.

Well he admired me but he didn't embrace me.
Those three and a half seconds made me feel like my lungs were full of helium and my heels were an inch off the ground.

I told Delighted Husband all about it during our date that evening.
He laughed with his eyes sparkling and gave me a frank assessment of his own. Then he put his arm around my waist and let his hand accidentally stray to pat my butt before going back to my waist. He's allowed to.

God, I love being a woman!

Possess your vessel with honor

From time to time, a reader will email me and share a bit of their story and ask me to share my perspective on something that's heavy on their heart. I'm honored by this and I offer what I can when I feel like I have something to offer. And I will wait until I feel I have something honorable and good and relevant to say that I feel ready to share. This is one of those times. And this sweet woman (I'll call her D) gave me permission to post my answer to her here. So D darlin', this is for you.

SW wrote~

Quote:

Of course, the safe and legit way to meet this need is for you to start owning and possessing your body in an honorable way and feeling your beauty and directing it towards your husband.

D wrote~

Quote:

And this is the issue. Since I've had no "model" I'm wondering where to go with all this. What is honorable in thoughts? Now I know we are to not lust after others which I feel I have a handle on, but how are we to handle male attention? I struggle with this and I've observed other women struggle (my sister) to the point of abusing their alluring power so to speak. I don't want to do this as I have in the past and this is my greatest fear. The "emotional" need that arises in me when I've felt a man's attention is scary to me. What is this and what causes it? I don't want to be afraid of myself, my body or my looks. I want to be proud of who I am and care about the beauty that HE created in me. As a Christian woman with principles I would never dream of betraying my husband, but the thought of being thin and beautiful (I'm not trying to brag here, but I'm large and still get alot of attention and when I was thinner I got more attention then I ever cared for.) has been too difficult for me to deal with~to the point my heart is saying just make it go away~self rejection. I know God is leading me to deal with this now and is renewing me. I thank HIM for women like you.

And yes, you have my permission to share whatever you think may be helpful.

Blessings to you,
D

I offer my reply~
What a courageous bighearted woman, Miss D!
So many things come to mind.
First of all, I understand the fearing male attention.
I used to feel like I had a target painted on my back and every predator and perpetrator would somehow know I was easy prey.
I also used to fear my own heart. Fear that when my heart responded to male attention that I was at risk for sinning. That's a valid fear. It's good to want to flee temptation. But it's also good to not jettison a blessing from God. Here's what works for me. I started to see God as the one romancing me and the people in my life as his vendors he sent to take care of me. Obviously my Delighted Husband is one of God's preferred vendors God most often uses in my life to bless me. (And I know this goes without saying, but just to be clear, Delighted Husband is the ONLY man that God uses to meet my sexual needs.)

But my husband is not the only channel God uses to bless me and encourage me. That's a whole nother article! Your spouse can't be the beall endall and only source of emotional support in your life. My point is, even when it comes to affirmation and complements from a good man I am not married to, I take them as a gift from God. Let me give an example.

About a year ago, I had just started an exercise routine. It was hard to take that first step and I had been working out just maybe a couple of months or so. I was still in the throes of emotional eating and trying to break free of that so life was a real struggle in that season. I had a week where my exercise was good but my eating was not good. I felt fat and depressed and just generally blah. I was on my way home from exercise class and I had to stop and get gas. I felt very uneasy and embarrassed about this because I was already feeling fat and here I was out in public in my sweaty running tights and tank top. But I had to get gas. Had to. My tank was on empty.

So I'm standing there at the gas pump feeling all mlehhh when the man at the pump facing me says something. I don't hear what he says cause I am so preoccupied with my negative self talk. I look up and say "excuse me?" and he repeats what he said earlier. This man (who did not look like the Unabomber) looks me straight in the face and in a calm low sincere voice says, "You're beautiful." Without conscious thought, I smiled and said "thank you!" and then felt shy and turned back to my gas pump. The man, a clean cut man wearing Dockers and a golf shirt, said "Are you married?" Again, without conscious thought I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, "Very!" and I smiled as I always do when I talk about my husband. That word 'very' spoke volumes. The man's face fell and this reinforced in my mind that his complement and his interest was genuine. Then I felt quite shy and momentarily overwhelmed by this. I'm not used to having people's faces fall when they talk to me. It's pretty normal for me to enjoy bringing a smile to the people I meet. But I couldn't lie to the nice man and I was staggered by the weight of the compliment. I blushed and looked at the gas pump. When I looked up two seconds later to say thank you the man was gone. That's when I figured out this was a God thing.

I got in my car and drove away and the first thing I did was look up at the blue sky overhead and say to God "You are really going out of your way to affirm me, sending me a messenger to tell me I'm beautiful when I'm all sweaty in my gym clothes at the gas station!" and I just laughed at the generosity of God and received His affirmation.

I did not lay awake nights wondering who this man was and plotting to show up at the same time at the same gas station in hopes of running into him again. I just enjoyed what for me felt entirely like a sweet complement from God when I was all down and feeling crummy with my body image.

You see what I mean?

One more thing.
One of the meanest things the villain in the story does is try to make us feel guilty for having our God-given needs. Not even guilt about how we may or may not have those needs met but I'm talkin' about feeling guilty for having the need in the first place. I believe with all my heart that it is a normal God-given need for a woman to feel beautiful and to want someone to notice she is beautiful. Obviously, there are important boundaries that need to be in place, but receiving an admiring glance when you're walking to your table in a restaurant or hearing a sincere complement at church when someone notices your new dress or tells you with a wordless smile that you look fabulous, there is nothing wrong with that. Receive the affirmation as a gift from God. To me, the potential for sin or blessing is all in your mind. Do you immediately send out your gratitude to God thanking Him for affirming you? Or do you start imagining inappropriate behavior with the person who just gave you the complement?

Now, let's not be foolish here. Women have to be wise and develop a keen sense of the Holy Spirit warning them. We don't want to be seduced by some smooth talkin' player. But a random complement affirming you in the area of your life you've been praying about? Yes, I believe that can be God giving us a taste of The Sacred Romance.

That's how I take it anyway.
Love,
SW

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.
;)

Why Beauty Matters

This is one of the things I love about blogdom.
The exchange of ideas and the intangible way someone else's heart calls forth a part of your own. This happened to me today. I was reading Alastair's blog Obscene Beauty and he was talking about Captivating and Women and Beauty. All topics near to my heart. Interestingly, the blog post that inspired Alastair was written by a woman I've admired for quite some time. Shawna Atteberry has a beautiful heart and a brilliant mind and she's not afraid to show us either! (grin) I always enjoy reading her blog. And this time, Shawna and I talk about this topic with somewhat different perspectives. And that's okay. Because, as I am learning, you don't have to agree with someone all the time in order love them, or like them, admire them, respect them. I know most of you have known this already, but bless my heart, just be happy for me that I am catching on. ;)

(smile)

So on to beauty. and what it means to me.

After walking this out for the last 3 years, praying, meditating, seeking wise counsel, and doing the push/pull, 3-steps-forward-2-steps-back dance of discipleship, I have come to believe that embracing beauty, savoring it, and offering it to my world does matter to God.

Sarah Groves said is so well in her song Why It Matters, "sit with me and tell me once again of the story that's been told us, of the power that will hold us, of the beauty, of the beauty why it matters"

That's all flowery and Hallmark-cardish and nice, so I'll try to make this practical and clear. When I speak of offering my beauty to my world, what does that look like in behavior?

* Going for long walks or jogs along nature trails and drinking in the 200 shades of green with my eyes, listening to the birds singing and believing that with my sneakers pounding the pavement I'm praising God too.

* Caring for and cherishing myself enough to adorn myself in clothes that fit and flatter the body God gave me and taking a few minutes to care about adding some cute jewelry because it makes me feel good.

* Walking into the my sleeping children's bedrooms to check on them when I get home late from dance practice because I know they need my mother touch on their forehead and my kiss on their cheek even though their Daddy is the greatest and I'm sure he tucked them in just fine.

* Experiencing the freedom and discipline and joy of Christian sacred dance with a roomful of women of every color shape size and athletic ability.

* Sitting on a park bench watching our children play on the slides and swings while listening to one of my girlfriends share her struggles and really listening, squeezing her hand when it feels appropriate.

* Flirting with my husband by "accidentally" bending over to pick something off the kitchen floor thereby flashing him some cleavage and enjoying his goggle-eyed stare and delighted grins.

* Getting all muddy while coaxing color out of the ground in my garden

Nowhere in this list am I competing with Barbie, or defining myself by my waist size. And while doing these normal everyday things, do I feel I'm offering beauty that matters? You bet I do! (grin)

Shawna is a good woman, and a sister of mine from Emerging Women, Shawna's objections to Captivating echo similar concerns raised by others.

We live in such an image-concious culture. One of my girlfriends has a 10 year old daughter, a perfectly made, perfectly normal girl who has started talking about going on a diet. Anytime someone raises the topic of beauty, many women cringe, thinking, "Good Lord! This is where eating disorders come from!".

But, as Alastair said, let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater.

I'd venture to say we live in a world that is over-focused on image while being beauty-deficient.

But again, beauty can be a scary word. So many women have had the soul-draining experience of being seen purely as a hood ornament with their considerable talent, heart and brains being ignored. I'm very protective of Shawna's heart when she voices her concerns. Because it is true that 'man looks on the outward appearance but God looks on the heart'. The same God, the same Bible also tells the story of Esther who prepared herself with a year of royal spa treatments before she offered her beauty to the king and offered her bravery to save Israel. Beauty and strength both matter.

Having said all that, since I have received such profound healing and restoration from God while reading and hearing all that Stasi and John poured into Captivating, I wanted to share my story.

I've also talked about Captivating in the long version of my story:

I've written so much about beauty on my blog, but I've never catalogued it as such. (makes mental note to add keyword beauty to several articles)

Oh and back to the song, I'll see if I can find a link to embed the song here. It really is one of those songs that gets inside your heart and lifts it up. Chris Rice (beloved lyricist in his own right) had some lovely things to say about this song.

Offer your beauty, one heartbeat at at time, ladies. It matters.
Love,
SW

Warmth and Light

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

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

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

So I start to feel cold and stung and dissapointed.

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

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

Ohhhhhhh

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

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

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

cause everywhere you are is warmth and light

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

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

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.

The Pleasure of Surrender

My friend Eleutheros wrote something the other day that just made my jaw drop for the sheer force of the truth he shared. At first, all I could say was "Oh my God. Yes! Yes!"

I've touched on this topic as an aside in other discussions, but I've never seen it put so succinctly before.

Writing to another awakened wife (my friend Gemma) Eleutheros wrote:

[quote]As your awakening progressed, begining with your decision to not refuse sex to your husband, it likely struck something positive in your core to find that you enjoyed submitting yourself to your husband's sexuality. It tickled you inside, didn't it, to find yourself not just enjoying sex wantonly with him but craving it!
And in delivering yourself over to this wantoness, to this craving.....you found the power in your sexuality to pleasure yourself with your husband's love. And I'm sure, when you saw the delight in your husbands positive responses to your wantoness, your beautiful feminine soul felt a deep fullfillment that you never expected to find you were capable of experiencing.[/quote]

This is the beauty of how a husband's and wife's eroticism feed off each other, egging each other on until their passion takes on this beautiful spiral a sexual chambered nautilus of eroticism.

This dynamic of letting go inside and surrendering myself to the passion, letting myself let my hair down and just revel in it, this is high-octane powerful stuff! This can happen alone, in fact the first awakenings of this feeling happened in the sacred interior of my woman heart as I embraced and made friends with my sexuality. Reading books on sexuality, learning how to pleasure myself were important parts of this process. But the heat kicked up to a whole nother level when I started revealing my newly-minted wantonness to my husband. Whoa, baby!

I offered myself and he took me greedily and with fervor. And when he did, I remember the moment I completely let go and let myself get off on his craving, his loving, his wanting, his taking. It was a huge personal risk inside to let myself want him that badly. To let myself want his wanting that badly. Because wanting that badly runs a risk of dissapointment. I had matured enough as a person that I was convinced my sexuality was good and I was okay (David Schnarch calls this holding on tightly to yourself) so as I said it remember the moment I first gave into the craving.
Not tolerance (well okay if you want to
not desire (hey I'd really like it if we..)
not passion (yes! I want to)
but craving (OMG yes! yes! if you stop thrusting within me I will simply die).
It was in that encounter that I had one of my first vaginal orgasms.
Christopher McCluskey calls this Apex Surrender Control to Each Other.
David Schnarch calls this Wall Socket Sex.
I call it fucking.

Body and soul, I literally take pleasure in abandoning myself to my husband's loving.

Like a chambered nautilus, the surrender goes in stages and spirals building a beautiful momentum. In order to surrender to my husband's love, I had to surrender to my self to my own eroticism, and in order to surrender to my self my own eroticism I had to surrender to God. And the joy of fully inhabiting the sexual nature of our covenant makes my husband and I want to worship God which brings us full circle in a beautiful spiral of love.

I have come to believe that some risks are worth taking. I have literally come to this belief through one soul-shaking orgasm after another, my body and heart have learned it is good to want my husband wantonly. Risky? Lordy yes! Letting yourself truly want anything that much is a risk becuase if you are dissapointed you will feel the dissapointment keenly. But there is such a thing as a good risk. And surrendering to the sexuality God placed within me and craving that sexuality, reveling in it with my husband is a real good risk. He is a good man and surrender to his his love for me is a very good risk.

It would show lack of integrity on my part if I didn't reveal that like every other human, I sometimes experience dissapointment. As wonderful as my Delighted Husband is, we are opposite enough to attract and opposite enough to sometimes disagree or misunderstand each other. Lordy, how he can piss me off! Lordy how I can piss him off! When we get our signals crossed and out of synch with each other, it's awful. And we've learned to communicate through those roadblocks, pray, seek wise counsel and get back on track. Every couple goes through temporary disconnects.

But there is another risk that is also costly and that is the risk of never taking a risk. If I die tomorrow, I am deeply grateful that I fully lived. I have fully inhabited the feminine sexual body and feminine sexual heart God gave me and I gratefully consider it a risk worth taking.

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.

There's so much love in the world

There's so much love in the world.
Yesterday I sat cuddled into an overstuffed sofa in a living room with 4 of my favorite girlfriends. We had been meeting together for lunch on Wednesdays saving the day for each other and for ourselves, and we were taking a break for Christmas. Knowing we wouldn't see each other for a few weeks we took the time to take inventory. Each woman thought back over the last few months and took inventory of her heart and her life and paid attention to what changes had taken place since we started getting together regularly to pray for and love on each other. We were all beautifully surprized.
I certainly was.
Here is what I learned:
Life is not either/or. It's both/and.
I used to think that people were either one or the other. Either needy and falling apart at the seams or confident and having all your shit together having come thorugh life unscathed. I know it sounds ridiculous and extreme to say it so plainly. But in my heart, that is what I really believed. In order to have something to offer, I had to have it all together and travel through life unscathed. and you and I both know that is not the way I've traveled!
But I've learned a bigger truth.
I've seen firsthand women come as they are and have something beautiful to offer every time. Whether it's a beautiful need expressed in humble honesty. Or a beautiful comfort that is a joy for them to offer.
Paul, that old stinker, figured this out lonnnnng ago.
He put it this way, "We hold this treasure in earthen jars to show that the power is beyond ourselves cause it belongs to God."
What a beautiful relief!
I am a verrrry earthy vessel. (as y'all know)
and I carry within me a verrrrry gorgeous pricey treasure.
It's both/and.
Woo-Hoo!!
:) SW