1 of 4
My friend Diane got married recently. Walking down the aisle, smiling big, she winked as she passed me. She was stepping into a new season of life—a husband, a new home, new responsibilities … sex. I chuckled at the thought of the "s" word. Diane and Bill hadn't even kissed yet. They wanted to wait until their wedding day. Hence, their dating intimacy had consisted of lingering handshakes, brief hugs, and very few moments completely alone together. "We hold hands and look at each other a lot," Diane once confessed. (Oh, please!) To this day I shake my head every time I think of it.
We've always been different, Diane and I. My mind drifts to the time when a man like Bill was nothing more than a whisper of hope hidden in Diane's heart. Back then we talked about men, marriage, romance, and sex. I was the verbal one; Diane, more modest. I'll never forget how her mouth flew open when I approached our pastor's wife with a fairly provocative question about sex. "I don't want to hear this!" Diane protested adamantly. She covered her ears and stomped away before the pastor's wife could answer. Me? I had no shame. God would send me a husband one day; I wanted to be ready!
Diane says I think about sex too much and must learn to master my bodily urges. I tell her I'd rather let a man do that. She says I'm carnal. I say I'm passionate. She says I must wait on God. I tell her I think God's watch must be broken because he's running a bit late. She says I'm silly because God invented time and doesn't even need a watch. I hate it when she gets theological on me.
A few years ago, Diane and I signed up for a women's conference at our church. The subject was holiness, being set apart for God's unique purpose in our life. The host of the gathering, a cheerful little lady with sparkling eyes and a bright smile, told us we needed to yield every area of our life to Christ, including our sexuality. The ladies in the room—several of whom were married—nodded their heads in agreement. I looked around. Easy for them to say! As for the others—was chastity really that easy for them?
I'd accepted Jesus as my Savior years before. I'd left my boyfriend behind and started a new way of life. I truly loved God. But my hormones were going crazy, and I desperately desired to share my life—and my body—with someone special. So there I sat, feeling like some carnal beast among this lofty group of good Christian ladies.
Finally, it was question and answer time. I swallowed hard and bit my lower lip. Diane looked at me and furrowed her brow. "What are you thinking?" she whispered. "I know that look. Don't you dare embarrass me!"
"Shhh!" I motioned to her harshly.
"You're going to say something about sex!"
 E-mail this page   Print this article  Post a comment |
