This blog is moving to a new home

I think we've about got all the kinks worked out. So mosey on over to sensuouswife.com/blog and check out the blog's new digs!

If you link to current posts of mine Angela and Kyra I know you do, darlin' then please adjust your links to the new address.

Those of you who left comments this week, I didn't post 'em yet cause I knew the move was comin' up. Can you please re-post your comments on the new blog? Email me at sensuouswife at gmail dot com if you want me to email your comments back to you so you can just copy and paste to repost them.

Love y'all! Be good! See you at the new location!
Love,
Shula

It's all about YOU

My readers are the best! Y'all add so much to my life and I want to give back to you. I want every reader to feel empowered to see their ideas and questions addressed here. So what sex topics would you like to see addressed here on the sensuous wife blog? I invite you to email me at sensuouswife AT gmail dot com or post a comment. I'll post my answers as a new blog post. Education and discussion is empowering, and I want y'all to have the best sex. Love, Shula

Five sexy things about me, a meme

The incomparable Kyra over at Last Refuge of the Lonely Housewife has tagged me for a meme. Good timing darlin', it's about time I did a little gratitude attagirl inventory.

Five Sexy Things About Me

1. I feel sexy deep down in my feminine heart The sexiest thing about me is I embrace my feminine heart and believe deep down that it is not a sin to be human sexual being. I'd even go so far as to say my feminine sexual heart is a very good thing. What does my feminine heart look like? My feminine heart knows I am strong yet content to rest in the strength of a man. I am very comfortable letting a man be good at what he does, offer his unique talents, and be himself without my trying to compete with him. I am very secure in my strength and I know that my feminine strength looks and acts and smells and tastes very different than masculine strength. Because I know that I am just as strong but in a different way than a man is strong, I can delight in and savor how delightfully other, delightfully different his masculine strength is from mine. My feminine strength has displayed itself when my man's heart was beat up by the world and I seduced him, drew him in to my softness, affirmed him, loved him reminded him who he was and who his God was. When I was done with him, he didn't know what hit him! But he knew it was very good and sweet and nourishing! Hah! (twinkly eyed victorious smile). Strong, nurturing, seductive, beautiful, and good. That's my heart.
   ~
   
2. My breasts
   I like my body. I have a lot of gratitude for the figure that God and my mama conspired to give me. And yes, they're real. I enjoy my feminine shape, and I have found a happy medium that works for me. I don't hide in my clothes nor are my outfits rock star tight. I have been known to display some festive holiday cleavage at a company Christmas party. If you handle them right (smiling biting lower lip) breasts can give a husband and wife a great deal of pleasure. How do I know? I just know. A word about breasts, take care of them. My mama is a breast cancer survivor and she is alive today because she was and is very proactive about her health. Girls, take care of your girls. I am so proud of the example my mama gave me about embracing and owning your sexuality and making self care a priority when she went through several reconstructive surgeries to restore her feminine shape after cancer. She's as gorgeous as ever and in her own strong way she taught me that life with breasts was preferred to life without breasts. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to cancer, surviving is the priority. But since liking your body is #2 on this list, I believe feeling sexy in your own skin and liking your body is very important. I like the way my breasts look and feel, and I enjoy being a woman. I think the fact that my breasts can look good, feel good and at one time also nourished a child is sexy as allgetout.
   ~
3. My eyes
   Eye contact is one of the sexiest things God ever made, in my humble opinion. Eyes open orgasms are also not to be missed. If you wanna know what I'm talking about, read Passionate Marriage. Being wrapped in an intimate embrace with the sweet light shining in your eyes is one of life's sweetest moments. Sweetness, seduction, joy, sorrow, compassion, eroticism, delight are all there in my eyes on any given day. Sexy? (nodding thoughtfully) Yeah, I think so.
   ~
4. My hands
   I am such a girly-girl and it really shows in my hands. I get my nails done at the salon and the fresh, girly look of a French manicure makes me look and feel very sexy. I also, well, I, that is to say, er, um....my hands are very talented. (cough) (grin) (blush)
   Aaand in other ways. (grin) By cooking a beautiful meal, holding the hand of someone I love, or writing this article, my hands express my sexy feminine spirit to my world.
   ~
5. My generous heart
   I know there are two heart ones on the list, but there are two aspects of the heart that I want to highlight. Whether in the bedroom or the boardroom, in the kitchen or in the living room, I believe generosity is the way to go. It's just my nature to be generous. I don't know how else to describe it except to say there is much pleasure to be found in offering yourself with generosity.
   

Okay darlings. That was time well spent. The last few months have been quite a strain on me and it was important that I remember and affirm some good things about myself. Thank you for indulging me, dear readers, and thank you for affirming me by inviting me, beloved Kyra.

To whom should I pay it forward?
Cori, at My Heart His Heart
Alise, at Big Mama's Blog
Gemma, at Passion Within Marriage
Memes are fun because they help create a sense of community, so let the good folks who read your post know who tagged you for this meme by posting a link and please post a comment here when your post it up. Y'all enjoy!

International Women's Day Synchroblog

The Bible is filled with stories of single mothers. There's one in particular that I want to highlight. from 2nd Kings 4:1-7
This single mother was a widow and was experiencing desperate financial need that put her children in danger. Like many single mothers in her situation, she went to a godly safe person and asked for help. The safe person she asked for help took the time to ask her about her situation and see how he could help. Once he found out what her resources were, he shared a plan on how God could multiply her resources and you guessed it he used other safe people to do it. Here's how the miracle went down:
The widow (how I wish we knew her name!) and her sons went throughout her community asking to borrow jars and bowls. They borrowed all they could. Then the mama and her boys went home, closed the door for privacy, and started pouring. See, all they had was a little bottle of oil, probably olive oil, and they took their little bottle and started pouring. Used in faith, that little bottle kept on pouring, kept on pouring, kept on pouring until it filled up all the other empty jars. This single mama sold all the oil and used the proceeds to pay off her debt, keep her sons out of danger and had plenty left over to live on. Good outcome!

What moves me about this story is the perfect blend of vertical and horizontal. In a vertical way, it was all about the single mother and God. Only God could make a small oil jar keep pouring like that. But the horizontal was equally important, the single mama and her community. Her safe friends who helped her. Without the jars from her safe friends, what would she have had to receive all that God was doing in her life?

There are many people in need in our world today. I'd like to ask you to pay close attention to the single mothers in your world. Be a safe person. Take the time to ask and listen and get to know what the needs are in their life. And be willing to be part of the miracle in their life. What is God doing in their life? How can you help them to receive that? collect it? capture it? contain it?
Be the empty arms that God can fill when you hug her. When God pours out good and blessing in her life, help her to receive it. Don't deny yourself the joy of being one of the jars of miracles in the life of a single mother.

Here's the whole story, from The Message:
4:1 One day the wife of a man from the guild of prophets called out to Elisha, "Your servant my husband is dead. You well know what a good man he was, devoted to God. And now the man to whom he was in debt is on his way to collect by taking my two children as slaves."

4:2 Elisha said, "I wonder how I can be of help. Tell me, what do you have in your house?" "Nothing," she said. "Well, I do have a little oil."

4:3 "Here's what you do," said Elisha. "Go up and down the street and borrow jugs and bowls from all your neighbors. And not just a few - all you can get.

4:4 Then come home and lock the door behind you, you and your sons. Pour oil into each container; when each is full, set it aside."

4:5 She did what he said. She locked the door behind her and her sons; as they brought the containers to her, she filled them.

4:6 When all the jugs and bowls were full, she said to one of her sons, "Another jug, please." He said, "That's it. There are no more jugs." Then the oil stopped.

4:7 She went and told the story to the man of God. He said, "Go sell the oil and make good on your debts. Live, both you and your sons, on what's left."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the Synch in Synchroblog: all the other dear ones who also blogged on this topic today
Julie Clawson on the God who sees
Steve Hayes on St. Theodora the Iconodule
Sonja Andrews on Aunt Jemima
Sensuous Wife on a single mom in the Bible
Minnowspeaks on celebrating women
Michelle Van Loon on the persistant widow
Lyn Hallewell on women who walked with God
Heather on the strength of biblical women
Shawna Atteberry on the Daughter of Mary Magdalene
Christine Sine on women who impacted her life
Susan Barnes on Tamar, Ruth, and Mary
Kathy Escobar on standing up for nameless and voiceless women
Ellen Haroutunian on out from under the veil
Liz Dyer on Mary and Martha
Bethany Stedman on Shiphrah and Puah
Dan Brennan on Mary Magdalene
Jessica Schafer on Bathsheba
Eugene Cho on Lydia
Laura sorts through what she knows about women in the Bible
Miz Melly preached on the woman at the well
AJ Schwanz on women’s work
Pam Hogeweide on teenage girls changing the world
Teresa on the women Paul didn’t hate
Helen on Esther
Happy on Abigail
Mark Baker-Wright on telling stories
Robin M. on Eve
Alan Knox is thankful for the women who served God
Lainie Petersen on the unnamed concubine
Mike Clawson on cultural norms in the early church
Krista on serving God
Bob Carlton on Barbie as Icon
Jan Edmiston preached on the unnamed concubine
Deb on her namesake - Deborah
Makeesha on empowering women
Kate on Esther
Doreen Mannion on Deborah
Patrick Oden on Rahab
Scot McKnight on Junia
Jonathan Stegall on Eve
InHo Kim on Sarah
Mimi Haddad on deception

I love my readers

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

Held,
Shula

Thank you Sue, for giving me this song.

Esther is My Girl!

My friend Shawna put out a call on Twitter asking folks to nominate cool women from the Bible that they'd like to read more about. I nominated three and Shawna and I ended up having a great conversation about my girl Esther. Love her! Shawna and Esther. Here's how it went down:

Shawna: Is trying to decide which woman of the Bible I should write about next. Any biblical women you would like to read about?

Shula: How about Rahab? The first hooker documented as doing God's work.

Shula: Or perhaps Abigail who proved that even if you're married to a complete asshole, that God will honor your faith & action

Shula: Or Esther who proved that being a brave warrior queen and a hottie are not mutually exclusive.

Shawna: Those are all great women. I love your take on Esther.

Shula: grin thanks. I love Esther. She's my girl. She reminds me that self care and preparation are valid tools of bravery.

Shawna: I like that take on her. Self care is something I am slowly learning, and I like looking good and feeling beautiful

Shula: (smiles) (hugs) me too, darlin'. I'm still learnin' too.

Shula: Interesting Esther didn't run into the throneroom in a ratty bathrobe hair in curlers screaming "we're all going to die!"

Shula: Nope. Miss Girl prayed and dolled up and walked in calm collected wearing Lancome and a great corset. Betcha boots she did!

I love twitter! I love how twitter makes conversations like this happen.

Love y'all. Good night!

Lost my appetite

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

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

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

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

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

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

PS Please pray for Michael and Angela

It Ain't Easy, But You Are So Worth It

I woke up today in a cold sweat with an awful sense that something was wrong and I had no idea what it was. Some of you who have been reading with me for a while might not be surprised at this. It's not uncommon for a flareup of vague nameless fear to crop up after a victory. I call this a battle for my heart, and it's happened before. Hell, there's a whole category for it. I have to smile at that. There's a whole category for it. For some reason, that is just so funny to me. A great big smile has spread across my face. Here's the payoff for being humble and accountable. People know where you're at.

So I sat up for an hour or so, trying to snap out of it and getting nowhere. So I went back to bed. I told Delighted Husband, "I woke up in a cold sweat at 4:30 with a vague sense that something was terribly wrong and I don't know what it is. I've been sitting in the living room trying to figure out what it is, and I don't know what it is. So I figured if I'm going to not know, I may as well come back here and be warm while I don't know."

Delighted Husband snuggled up to me, and mumbled in a sleepy voice, "If you don't know what's wrong then nothing's wrong. The thief comes to steal kill and destroy" and then he began to snore.

Just like that, I was filled with peace.

Oh, after seeing it happen a few hundred times, I am learning!

Huge strides up the mountain are sometimes interspersed with little bouts of vertigo.
Don't jump off the mountain.
Just hold onto your partner.
Ask them to pass the container of oxygen.
Stand still and breathe deeply.
Rest and collect yourself.
When you feel ready, move one foot forward.
You are so worth it!

Love,
SW

The Healing Power of Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I did.

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

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

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

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

They made encouraging sounds, so I continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded. "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Agent says, "You did not say that!"

I grinned. "Yes, I did."

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

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

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

I'm grinning. Sharing an inside joke.

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

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

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

Meme: Six Uninteresting Things About Me

Meme Terms and Conditions
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. List six unspectacular things about you.
4. Tag six other bloggers by linking to them.

Lord have mercy! This has got to be the hardest writing assignment I've had in a long time. I've been writing for more than half my life and the mantra drilled into my head was 'make it interesting'. Lordy. Doing this meme is like entering a cooking contest for "the worst recipe ever". Well dangit. This meme came from someone I really love, so I can't just conveniently forget to get around to it, so I'll have to tweak this assignment so I can actually pull it off.

6 Odd Quirky Trivial Things About Me That You Can Decide On Your Own Whether Or Not You Might Find Them Interesting:

1. I like tea and filtered water and I drink a lot of it.
2. I like sex and and my husband and I play together every chance we get.
3. I like writing and have found it essential to my self-expression since age 7.
4. I like worship because of the sense of presence and unaloneless that it gives me and because I enjoy loving on someone I adore.
5. I like singing and have found it essential to my self-expression since age 2. I don't believe I could drive or cook or take a shower without singing.
6. I'm a big fan of nonsexual touch. It's very common to find me squeezing my friends' hand while we talk, or leaning my head companionably on their shoulder while we sit side by side.
7. I like to laugh and do it every chance I get. I get a lot of chances as those around me will attest. I have actually been asked by my friend who is a comedian to come to his live performances and "salt" the audience with my giggles.
8. One of the loveliest side effects of my spiritual and sensuous awakening is a renewed enjoyment for kinetic movement. Dance, cycling, playing chase with my kids, powerwalking, circuit training all feel fun to me. I used to be an brainy gal who only lived in her head. I am so over that.
9. I believe in lagniappe as a lifestyle, so it felt right to give a little more on these lists.

Okay now onto tagging some of my friends in blogdom. I find it especially fun to tag friends I've met fairly recently and friends I'd like to know better and friends I've known forever. Sort of a friendly nudge on the shoulder that says "hey I'd like to know more about you, you big goober." (mischievous grin)

So cough up the trivia, folks!
Cory from Husbands and Dads,
Village Idiot from Tohu and Bohu
David at Naked Pastor,
Cori from My Heart His Heart
Kyra from Lonely Housewife's Refuge
Desmond from Running In the Yard
Shawna from Life In the City

Love,
Shula

Legacy of Love

Delighted Husband and I spent this afternoon in the garage sorting through belongings from our attic that were damaged during Hurricane Ike. We've been married for nearly 12 years and some stuff was mine before we were married. There's a lot of stuff!

I want to mention first that this is some of the stinky stuff in the attic mentioned here. I don't do it perfectly, but I like to keep things organized, so nearly all of our stuff in the attic was stored in cardboard banker boxes. Those banker boxes acted like sponges, soaking up all the water in the attic when the roof leaked during the hurricane. The wet cardboard was breaking down deteriorating in the heat and smelled awful! But now the cardboard had dried and it was time to sort through them and be done with it.

Some things were ruined and had to be claimed.
Some things were—to my great delight—salvageable.
I want to tell you about one of those things.

Two of the many boxes were things from my single life and girlhood that I had kept and brought into marriage. One box was full of books and journals from the years when I first began my healing journey. Relics of the heart. This box-out of all the damaged boxes-the contents of this box were completely unharmed. I was so glad to see this, and I made a note on the index card which book titles were in there in case anyone ever needed it and I could give it away. There was plenty of work to do, so I quickly folded together a nice clean banker box and began to move the books and journals into their new home.

Then I saw it: A program from the funeral of a man who loved me and mentored me for many years when I was a teen and single adult. I'll call him Paul. Such joy filled my heart and tears filled my eyes. I stood there in my garage, wiping tears, and read the whole article. This man and his dear wife spent their lives loving God and loving people.

They loved me wholeheartedly during the early years of my recovery. They believed me when I told them about my sexual abuse, and they loved me without condition. I don't know quite how to describe it, but there was a gentleness about this man. He saw me. When he looked at me, he really saw me. As a young woman, this was so special to me. In a world full of pain and abuse and inappropriate flirting, this man looked at me with love and fatherly affection. He affirmed me as a writer when I was first finding my wings and beginning my career. He took me seriously. When I talked to them about my questions and trials as I was just starting my corporate career, they really listened. Paul had a wide varied career and he coached me on the people dynamics I encountered on my job. I was so young! So naive yet talented and I found the unspoken culture of corporate America confusing. He took me under his wing and coached me about workplace dynamics and my career goals.

Paul and his wife were always very affectionate with each other. I remember how special and good I felt inside when I would be over at their house for dinner and he and his wife would stand embracing and smiling right there in the living room. Their devotion and affection for each other was a breath of pure air in a season of my life where I was processing all the pain from my past sexual abuse. I would look at Paul and his wife standing in their living room, smiling and talking with their arms around each other, and I would think, "Oh my God. All is right with the world. This is the way it should be."

Years later, I realize that Paul was one of the first people to speak the truth into my life that the sexual and the spiritual were equally important and deserved to be balanced in a healthy life. We both loved to read, and we shared many hours talking about novels and what they spoke to us. We had discussed big tomes like Herman Wouk's The Winds of War, the family legacy and the horror of the Second World War. I remember he asked me what else I had been reading, and embarrassed, I mumbled, "Oh just some other dumb stuff, a Danielle Steel novel." I was sure he would see that as some unspiritual waste of time or worse a shameful detour for a Christian young woman. But you know what he said? Paul looked me straight in the eye and said, "Well, Shula, romance is an important part of life. Never forget that. Life would be pretty dull without romance, and if you want to read about it and let God stir up the desires of your heart for a good man and a good marriage, then you go right ahead. Okay, so what else you been reading?" and the conversation went on, calm as could be. We went on to talk about James Michener's Covenant next, and the staggering issue of South Africa's racial unrest.

I kept up with the conversation, but inside my jaw was dropped in shocked delight. Up until that point in my life, sex and any kind of boy/girl connection had been icky, and toxic and filled with pain. In that one single conversation, I learned that romance and marital love, even the mushy sexy kissy stuff was an important part of life and that was okay for me to want to be married. Of course, I still felt I was exempt from that sort of thing; Having been abused I felt like I was damaged freight. But that one conversation gave me a spark and I began daring to hope. I took all my questions and longings to my counseling sessions with my therapist, but that conversation with Paul was a turning point. A catalyst.

Better yet, the way Paul calmly spoke of romance with the same level of respect he showed the topic of racism or genocide told me that romantic love really mattered. It wasn't just meaningless fluff, it mattered. Romance was a legitimate issue.

I smile as I conclude this article, and there are happy tears in my eyes. Because I know that Paul would be so proud of me, of the redemption stories I am writing and of this life of love I have built with Delighted Husband. I so so WISH Paul had gotten the chance to meet my beloved Delighted Husband. They never met. My first date with Delighted Husband was the night of Paul's funeral. It was a new season in my life, and while the two men never met, I brought my changed and healing heart into my marriage.

What a legacy of love!
-SW

Can I get some backup here?

Folks, I have to tell you, the topsyturvyness of my life lately has inched past the tipping point of overwhelming.

My job ended Thursday just in time for me to help Delighted Husband prepare our home for the storm. This leaves unanswered questions for me because I had hoped I could launch sensuouswife.com by the time the knew-it-would-end-eventually-job was completed and that sensuouswife.com would become my new job and I could be a WAHM again. At this time the site's not quite ready for launch and my new job has become being the unpaid Construction Manager for my house. I never thought I'd wake up one day and be Bob the Builder. But I must restore my home so I am flying by the seat of my pants learning a new job the quality of which will determine what kind of house my family and I live in for the next umpteen years. No pressure!

I camped with my inlaws for a few days which was a blessing. Like any sleepover, after several days we were ready to be home in our own place again. It's only natural. During our stay at MIL, DH and I made 2 visits to our house in the dark trying to grab a few clothes by flashlight. Much stumbling and bumbling about shuffling along in the dark carrying a heavy load. I cut my hand on something in the dark and I continue to find blood dots on the floor where I dripped without knowing it.

During the time I was camping at my inlaws house, I got what appeared to be wonderful news about my fiction writing then really horrible news right on it's heels. I rode that emotional rollercoaster, doing a serious gut check in the process. If God is proud of me for telling the stories that are in my heart to tell is that good enough? Can I stay proud of me and my work even though other's signifcant opinion may rise and fall?

I spent much of the day yesterday pleading my case with my mortgage company. When I received my claim check from the insurance adjuster, it was made out to me, Delighted Husband and the mortgage company. I called the customer service for the mortgage company and asked them if I could take the check to a local branch to be endorsed. They said no, it had to be shipped off to Atlanta where it would be endorsed and sent back to me. I called yesterday to check the status since I had traced the package and knew my check had arrived. The customer service person who answered that call told me I should have taken the check to my local branch for endorsement. Mlehhhh!

This is more than just a hassle. Seemingly everyone in Houston needs a new roof. So finding a suitable roofer and contracting them before their dance card becomes impossibly full is a big big deal. I tearfully told Mortgage Lady In Atlanta, "you have no idea how frustrating it is to have good men sitting across from you at your kitchen table and not be able to hire them because you don't have any money to pay them because your money is hundreds of miles away in Atlanta where it doesn't belong!" I went on to explain to Atlanta Mortgage Lady that because I got my check early from the insurance company, I have a parade of vendors coming through my kitchen wanting to be hired. But every single day I do not hire said vendors they drop out of the running because somebody else does hire them and next thing you know I'm on a six month waiting list. I cannot live like this for six months! Atlanta Mortgage Lady apparently has a heart. Because she volunteered to email the mailroom, have them find my check (the one in the great big overnight pack) and she would walk it through the endorsing process and Fedex it back to me sometime this week. None of the other talented able and available contractors will touch my house until the new roof is complete. So Delighted Husband and I are scraping together the cash to hire and pay the hiring downpayment to the roofer so he can get it done so by the time the Sacred Check from Atlanta arrives we can reimburse our household checking account, and pay the rest of our bills. (including our mortgage hows that for irony?) Most importantly, we will then have the money to hire wallboard and ceiling and paint and attic insulation contractor who is talented, ready, highly recommended and willing to start once that roof is in place. (pant)

Once Talented Ready Recommended Contractor is done with the reconstruction upstairs, we can get Carpet Guy to replace, clean and reinstall the various carpet upstairs. Once the upstairs is done, we can move downstairs to the Showdown at the OK Corral where Insurance Company says rotten wet hardwood floors can be sanded and refinished and they'll be all better. Riiiiiight. So my hope is—y'all pray about this too, okay—my hope is that by the time Various Contractors are finished with the upstairs that Insurance Company will have agreed with Flooring Expert that sanding and refinishing is a waste of time and money and will have coughed up the bucks for a replacement hardwood floor. (gasp)(pant) So then we can be done with the lion's share of the downstairs repair. Except yesterday I found wet wallboard and peeling paint downstairs that I hadn't noticed when Insurance Adjuster was here last week. Mlehhhhhhh!

So my job today is to sort through all manner of belongings that were pulled down from the Stinky Attic. Delighted Husband, brave man among men, hauled this stuff down the attic ladder and laid visqueen all over the Guest Room and neatly spread Water Damaged Grossy Belongings all over the Guest Room. I moved the biggest HEPA filter in there and it still smells like, well like nothing I've ever smelled before. So today my job is to sort through and photograph and document the Lost Stuff, take it out of my house, send photographs and claim forms to Field Claims Office to hopefully get more money to buy replacement stuff. Some stuff can't actually be replaced...) And then my job is to reclaim and rebox the Keep Stuff, taking time to launder the baby clothing and baby sling and other babyish stuff that I'm not willing to let go of yet because I might get to be a mama again if we adopt. (more emotions stirred up over that topic).

Oh and I don't get paid for any of this. But what else can I do but repair my house and hope that the store goes live soon and the second income is restored to our family? Y'all can pray about that one too if you want to.

So yesterday, I was on the phone with Beloved Out of Town Friend Sue who is uniquely equipped to comfort me because not being a Houstonian she is not in the same boat. I was sobbing and in between sobs saying nearly inaudible things like "I'm really doinnnnnng pretty good. I thing I founnnd a cahnnnntracterrr todaaaaay." Among other comforting things, Beloved Out of Town Sue said, "I think you're doing extremely well and if you weren't crying by now with all the things you're dealing with, I'd wonder if you were actually human. So you're human. So you're crying. So that's okay." Dontcha just love her? Gosh, I do.

So I thought it would be okay if I let y'all know that I'm human and that this ordeal is very hard for me. And if you wanted to love on me and say nice things, that would be okay. Lovely even.

Love,
Shula

PS Talented Recommended Contractor told me he found a 2 foot by 2 foot nest of Unidentified Living Creatures in my attic. Eeeeeeeeeeeeek! (shudder)

Orgasms are great for pain relief

I sprained my ankle last Friday, on the very day we were preparing to go out of town to a conference/family getaway on Labor Day weekend. Delighted Husband hadn't been home ten minutes when he asked with concern how my ankle was feeling, I gave him a mischievous grin and said, "You know honey, orgasms are good for pain relief". And they were! By lifting my pelvis up with our Liberator wedge, it was easy to keep my knees and ankles up out of the way. By the time we were done, I forgot I even HAD an ankle. Much less a sprained one.

When I talk about our slogan "promoting pleasure for wives and the husbands who love them", sometimes people assume it's all about wild nights hanging from the chandelier. While special amazing nights and afternoons do happen, I think it's more important to redeem almost-missed opportunities when headaches or sprained ankles could keep you from having great sex, but they don't.

I had forgotten about this story even though it only happened a week ago. (What can I say? Sometimes I have a short attention span!) But I was reminded of this lovely pain-relieving event when my friend Shannon shared her story on Facebook talking about how an orgasm with her husband made her headache go away. She asked if anyone had had a similar experience, and I thought with a grin, "Yeah, I have!" so I shared my story. Sometimes we need to be reminded of our own good stories. Sometimes we need the spark of an idea to remind us to reclaim good things that have been brought into our lives and to remember them with gratitude. In our often crazy, bumpy road world, it's so important to cling to what is good and to smile at a happy memory. So often, a friend helps me do this.

I'm so thankful for community. There is this marvelous dynamic of 1+1=3 when we share our hearts with another. Yesterday, I prayed about a situation nearly all day and the big turnaround came when I called my girlfriends and prayed together. Today as I read my friend Shannon share her story, it brought to mind stories of my own that I needed to be reminded of. Yes we have to own our own heart and take care of it. Some personal choices mean the world to us. Yet, as the same time, when listening to other people share their story evokes something in our own heart, they are influencing us for greater good. I've been noticing this dynamic a lot lately. Sending out my love and thanks to Cristin and Sue and Shannon. The way you offered your heart yesterday made me a better woman.
Mwah!
Shula

To Tear Down and To Build

This song is for Cahleen over at In His Footsteps.


I know what it is to feel as though your heart is being deconstructed and reconstructed. Girl, you're in good company. And the Master Architect is in love with you. I think you're pretty great too. :)
Love,
SW

"There is a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build."
—Ecclesiastes 3:3

Still a Wild Man

This song is for The Wild Man over at Postcards from the Sexual Crucible.

WM, Ricky Van Shelton and I celebrate your desire for your beloved wife. After twenty years you still want her and love her and desire her and I think that's fabulous. And like that other song Ricky sings, you're keepin' it between the lines...channeling all that desire only toward her. Sometimes you desire her more often than she will allow and still you're keeping it all for her. Good on you!

I can't deny that
somewhere inside there's a wild man
mama always said son dontcha let it get out of hand
so if I go crazy now and then baby, you've got to understand
ohh I'm a wild man
yeah that's what I am
I'm a Wild Man

comin through the door
I know what it's all for

wound up so tight
but I know tonight
I don't have to hold back
when I'm holdin' you close

You're a good man, Wild Man, and better things are comin' for you and your Wild Woman. I just know. They're happening already.

Love,
SW

Welcome Wild Jesus

Welcome Wild Jesus readers.
Can one of you please let me know what your blog is about? Could I have a week's guest pass? That okay with you? I'm flattered, and also curious as allgetout.

Love is the most important ingredient

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

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

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

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

Diamonds from a girl's best friend

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

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

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

Y'all come on over and say hi!

Just imagine me out in front of the store giving away hot biscuits and cold sweet tea. Mkay?
www.sensuouswife.com