A Believer’s Dilemma

A Believer’s Dilemma

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

What is one to do? That is…when one is a Christian.
I read an article one time in a magazine about a Christian woman in her thirties who was single and was posing the question, “What do I do about my sex drive?”
Honey, I’m right there with ya.’
You see, for all of you who aren’t Christians, or who are Christians but ignore the Biblical proscriptions on pre-marital sex, abstaining is hell. This woman I spoke of said to her soon to be married Christian friend, How do you (pardon the pun) handle going without sex? Her friend replied with the oft quoted, amorphic, gelatinous, churchy drivel of, “Just trusting God and everything will be okay.” Well, when the blood is pumping and sweaty bodies are writhing together with vivid fantasy in the mind because you’ve awakened with the remnants of some X-Rated dream form the night before, “Just trusting God” doesn’t quite cut it. She said that sometimes she felt like she would absolutely explode and leave the walls covered with purple…purple being the color for passion.
I can relate!
And it seems like it’s tougher for men. I don’t know if the ladies would agree with that, but although men can be physically alluring, or so I’m led to understand, they don’t have the…accoutrements that women have – i.e., legs, breasts, hair, ass, skin, lips…ahem!
Hold on…one moment please…okay, I’m back.
Anyway, we men have to look at all these…groceries, and those of us who are Christians can’t even hope to make a play for any of them.
And you women – ohhhhh, you women – you know just how to dress, and walk, and smile, and giggle, and tilt your head just the right way, and say these cute little things, and stand in just the right posture…what the hell? Do they teach that somewhere? Do they take the little girls aside in gym class and say, “Okay ladies, line up, it’s time to practice torturing the men.”
I guess the women have some of the same complaints; like the frustrated single woman I mentioned previously. She found a ladies church group that got together every week, but she said all they seemed to want to talk about were these benign little problems; a friend is being insensitive, a co-worker is being a bitch, a boss is being over bearing. She finally gathered her courage and had to, very reluctantly, broach the subject herself. After a long awkward silence one of the women chimed in with a rallying cry of agreement and that was it. They all dove in after that with their own stories of difficulty and frustration. According to her it really helped to vent with the ‘sisters’ about such things, and following a fair amount of tears and laughter, they were all very happy they’d talked about it. She said this would definitely be a topic they would add to the group’s discussion each week for spiritual support. (I wonder if they’d let me join? Probably not…what I wouldn’t give to hear those tales of torture! Uh…so…anyway)
What brought all this on were my own thoughts of my past lovers, my past moments of illicit pleasure and treasured debauchery. Not proud of it, but I can’t erase the sweet sinful memories that are etched into my mind - wish I could. Single life would be so much easier.
So, with Bublé, Sinatra, Ella, and Grappelli in the background, a fireplace blazing, and a glass of the Wal-Mart equivalent of Crystal Light cranberry juice dangling from my drunken hand (I spiked it with Nyquil), please forgive me if I wax melancholy in my reverie of rueful and romantic remembered embraces.

Fly fair lady from my tattered soul, for I would that my mortal form move to Icelandic regions, frigid and bleak, than to see thee in the reflection of mine own languishing, lonely heart.

Keck