To Be Intimate
Or to put it another way: what happens when marriage comes to be defined by the promise of sex?
Or to put it another way: what happens when marriage comes to be defined by the promise of sex?
Condoms were occasionally brought up with a scoff and a smirk. Believing that condoms were good for anything was credulity on par with believing the earth is flat.
Weekly we repeated the words. Gender is not the same as sex.
And you know what happens next? An adulterous Samaritan woman becomes history’s first recorded evangelist. Church, can we talk about that?
I think there is a divine vision at the root of “purity” that remains a potent challenge today: that apart from oneself, on the other end of every sexual encounter is another self equally as mysterious and indefinable as existence.
Peak Allison Janney right here, but with numerous parental triggers: “engorged,” “testicle retrieval,” “heinous bitch,” and of course, “Reginald’s quivering member.”
I know some churches are trying. “Singles group” is a thing. But really? That’s depressing on a good day, patronizing on a bad one.
Why do we expect God to be sexually pure? As a woman, it’s fun to realize God and I have that in common.
Your body is not your enemy. And if you think it is, then treat it like an enemy: love it. Do good to it. Bless it. Pray for it.
Could my parents have admitted they were too busy or uncomfortable to teach me? Yes.
Am I mad, bro? No.