When one spouse is ill, how does that affect your sex life? Are you still able to connect sexually? When one partner's healthcare needs are front-and-center, do the other partner's sexual needs go unnoticed?

Meeting the well spouse’s sexual needs when one of you has an illness. Fictional couples Chad and Diane and Sherri and Jim handled this issue very differently.

Chad and Diane

“Come here, you” Diane’s raspy whisper did not sound like her usual voice. A bad cold had turned into bronchitis and Chad had been worried about her. “Mmm right here, Baby” Chad replied. He scooted back to snuggle into Diane as she spooned him. Diane found Chad’s warmth as comforting as the familiar contours of his chest and abdomen as she petted him affectionately. Their breathing settled into an easy rhythm and Chad thought they would fall asleep soon. He hoped Diane would recover soon. Chad hated to hear Diane’s painful cough and he wanted to see his baby well again. Chad also missed his lover. It had been nearly two weeks since they made love and Chad sensed the need for connection and release was making him feel irritable and anxious. He made a deliberate choice to keep the tension from showing when he talked to Diane. He knew it wasn’t her fault and Chad was much more worried about his wife than he was his own needs. “I love her and of course I want her” Chad muttered to himself yesterday, “but how can I think about sex when Diane’s so sick?”

So Chad relished the affection as Diane stroked his chest and as Diane’s hand drifted down inside Chad’s pajama bottoms, he sprang instantly to full attention. “Oh God! Baby, are you sure?” Chad’s voice was a strangled moan as Diane’s hand expertly stroked and teased him in the sweet ways she had learned over the last 10 years of marriage. “Doesn’t it feel like I’m sure?” Diane giggled which set off another fit of coughing. She never lost her grip on her man. Diane kissed Chad’s shoulder blade and whispered,“You can’t kiss me cause I don’t want you to catch this crud, so tell me what you would do to me if I were well.” While Diane’s clever hand kept a good rhythm, Chad described in lurid detail how he wanted to lick suck and tantalize his wife as soon as she was well. Diane made small whimpering sounds of arousal and when her arm began to tire, Chad took over while Diane whispered encouragement. For a few precious moments, they were not the sick spouse and the well spouse, they were a couple.

Jim & Sherri

"You're shivering, babe, can I spoon you?" Jim asked. “I guess so” Sherri’s raspy whisper did not sound like her usual voice. A bad cold had turned into bronchitis and Jim had been worried about her. “I'm worried about you, hon, and I miss you” Jim said. He hoped Sherri would recover soon. Jim hated to hear Sherri's painful cough and he wanted to see his baby well again. Jim also missed his lover. It had been nearly two weeks since they made love and Jim sensed the need for connection and release was making him feel irritable and anxious. He made a deliberate choice to keep the tension from showing when he talked to Sherri. He knew it wasn’t her fault and Jim was much more worried about his wife than he was his own needs. “I love her and of course I want her” Chad muttered to himself yesterday, “but how can I think about sex when Sherri’s so sick?”

Jim scooted forward to snuggle into Sherri as he spooned her. Jim felt close to his wife for the first time in 2 weeks and naturally his body reponded. “Oh please!" Sherri carped, "It's always about the sex with you, isn't it? Go sleep in the guest room if you can't keep yourself from bothering me!!" "Darlin I wasn't trying to..." Jim's voice trailed off. "That's what I get for trying" Jim muttered as he walked toward the guest room.

Beloved Annalea asked this great question:
"I'm not the greatest at initiating sex with my husband. I never turn him down and I do make the occassional offer on my own. Though he never fusses at me about it, I know he'd love it if I initiated more. Any ideas?"

Well darlin, my answer is counterintuitive. If you want to really bless him, think about yourself more. I’d encourage you to initiate the things that are likely to arouse you and go for it when you find the sparks fly.

For example:
In the evening, when you step out of the shower and your honey is watching TV, take a hairbrush or comb from the bathroom and walk to the bed still nekkid*, hand him the brush, and say “Baby, brush my hair” and smile. He is very likely to say yes. You’re the only smiling nekkid woman in the room.

Now, this is the most important part: Enjoy it. I mean really enjoy it. Turn your whole focus and attention on your skin and scalp and hair. Lean your naked back against your husband’s chest. Notice how good this simple skin to skin contact feels. Feel the delightful pull of the brush going through your hair. Do not be afraid to sigh and say Ahhhh. Make whatever happy sounds you feel like making.

Now this is the part where your thoughts are so important. Do not allow any other thoughts to enter your head besides “he loves me” and “this feels good” and “I love him”. If any other thoughts enter your mind, let them go, by focusing on your skin and drinking in the sensations.

Imagine your spirit melting into his. Imagine his spirit melting into yours. Pretty soon, you’ll be wanting the rest of you to be touched and petted and fondled.

Move your body to expose whatever you want to be touched. Touch him back. Let yourself drink in the sensation and love you crave.
Give your husband the gift of knowing his wife is totally savoring his every touch.

There are some more overt, hot ways to initiate sex and we’ll talk about those in a future post. But first, I want to encourage this more “self-focused” approach. Get very used to the idea of going to your husband for touch that is loving and feels good. Get accustomed to receiving from him and receiving well. Get in the habit of letting yourself become aroused and following it up by seeking an orgasm with your husband. Train your body and your heart to anticipate pleasure with him and you will automatically find yourself initiating more.

* according to beloved Southern humorist Lewis Grizzard, Naked is having no clothes on, Nekkid is having no clothes on when you're up to sumthin'. (grin)

I'm really glad we have our Zepplin pillow in front of the fireplace. I'm just sayin'. (smile)

In so many things in life, success is not about doing some far-out, unheard-of thing. Success is about doing simple things well and doing them consistently. This is true about sex. I can just SEE the grins on the faces of you dear readers. All roads lead to sex on SW's blog. Well, most of 'em. What can I say? It's my calling. (blush) (grin) So back to doing simple things and doing them well.
Nurturing words.
Talking during sex. Some of you love talking "dirty", smokin' hot, sultry, sexy, etc during sex. And good for you! I certainly talk like that some times. Some of you may feel "not so much" about the "dirty" talk. Some of you may feel talking bold and playful with your mate there's nothing dirty about it.
Either way, doing the simple stuff and doing it well is always a good idea.
Here are some good examples of simple nurturing things to say during foreplay, sex, or afterplay.

• I'm happy to be married to you
• I desire you
• I love looking at you
• You're strong
• You're beautiful
• I love my life with you
• I thank God for your body
• I'm happy to be married to you
• I want you
• You're special
• I love it when you touch me there
• You feel so good
• I love how your (body part) is (adjective)
• That's so cool! I can see your (body part) (verb)!
• You're so hot
• Oooh, do that again!
• I love making love to you

See? Ladies, you've heard most of these before. But when's the last time you said them?

Men, what do you think? Would you like to feel your wife's warm breath on your cheek whispering some of these nurturing words in your ear while she runs her hands down your back and squeezes your bum?

My thanks to Dr. Doug Weiss at sexaddict.com, some of these nurturing words are adapted from his "Best Sex for Women Only" resource.

PS There are some words that only Delighted Husband will hear me say. And that is so great. Each couple's private language helps create their own erotic world.

One of my favorite things about our marriage is how we get the giggles over the everyday things in life.Delighted Husband and I were out and about running errands when I received a text message from one of my best girlfriends. I started to type out a reply and then decided what the heck I'd just call her. When I called her I got voicemail. I was so puzzled by this. I mentioned this to Delighted Husband and he wondered out loud, "I bet they're having sex and that's why she couldn't answer the phone when you called." I giggled and said something like "well good for her". Delighted Husband said "I wonder what the text message would sound like if she actually DID send you a text message while having sex with her husband?" By this point we were fullon laughing. We imagined the text message would look something like this:iiiiii ccant taaaaaalkkkkk nnnnowwww OMG OMG OMG

I can die now. My life is complete. I have just used the word shagmobile in an article title. (cue Austin Powers) Oh beHAVE!!

After all the fun we had talking about the day Delighted Husband and I traded in our big comfy van, I thought I'd post an update or two about the new wheels.

First of all, some of you know how fond I am of long walks and bike rides out in God's Green Earth.
Now, I can transport my bike with ease. More than 1 bike if one of the kids or Delighted Husband wants to come biking with me. This is way cool.

Speaking of shagging. We weren't, but I never let that stop me before. (giggling)
As I said, field testing for the effability of the new SUV has not yet been completed.
Our accessories have just arrived.
Wooo hoo! Oh babysitter, where art thou?

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.

I'll tell you the same thing I've told all my girlfriends to whom I recommend scheduled sex and they wrinkle their nose and say "ohh but wouldn't that take all the fun out of it?"

Girls, I have walked into an evening of scheduled sex at many stages of arousal, desire, or lack thereof.
And I've never regretted it.
Ever.

I could tell you that making love regularly creates hormonal bonds with your husband, boosts self-esteem, and promotes an overall sense of well-being, ease, and satisfaction. But perhaps you'll understand it better if I tell you a little story.

It's 8:30pm and I have just been loved truly, madly, deeply and past the edge of reason. And now Boy Scouts are over and it's time to go pick up Dear Child. I groan, and stretch and peel myself out of bed. I'm looking for a little consolation prize so I decide to try on that cute little sundress that was too small the last time I tried it. It fits. Yeah, baby! This is just the boost I need. I glide out of the house pausing briefly to slip on some sandals.

I pull up to the door of the church and the scoutmaster who happens to be the pastor walks out with a smile and props his elbow on my drivers side mirror in a conversational pose.
"Wellll hellloooo!"
I give a quick little smile and beckon Dear Child into the SUV. Friendly Pastor will not be dissuaded.
"So how was date night?"
"Great!" I cannot suppress a smile.
"So where'd you go for dinner?"
I stammer, "Um, we, er, We had a picnic" I hope this is at least partially true. I think we ate something before we got busy. I could not tell you what we ate if my life depended on it.
"Ohhh a picnic! Great idea! Where'd you go?"
I feel the heat suffuse my face and know a blush is blooming over my cheeks. "Uhh, we had our picnic at home."
There is a brief tiny flash of recognition and Friendly Pastor draws back like he's been stung. He backpedals admirably with "Well thanks for letting Dear Child participate in our program! We sure had a fun time tonight!"
I smile a proper motherly smile and thank him right back. What I want to say but don't...
No problem, Rev. We wouldn't let him quit if he wanted to! We need the free babysitting!

Dear Son is hungry, so I drive him to Subway and I walk over to Starbucks to get a decaf sugarfree cinnamon dolce.
My walk becomes a saunter as I think of all the things I just did with Delighted Husband. To the casual observer, I am a thirtysomething housewife. A curvaceous soccer mom who shops at Lane Bryant. But I know I am a sex goddess. And Delighted Husband knows it too. I smile. Just feeling good in every joint of my body. I feel lithe and relaxed and absolutely gorgeous. Gorgeous is as gorgeous does. And gorgeous does. She certainly does.

As some of you may imagine, one of the most frequent search engine terms that bring readers to my blog is the "sensuous"+"posted in blog". I clicked on this search this morning, and found a daisy chain of beautiful thoughts which I will share with you today.

The first link that caught my eye was "God's Sensuous Prescence". Y'all know, I am all about God and all about sensuous, so of course I was curious. This beautiful article is what I found:

"Men had turned from the contemplation of God above, and were looking Him in the opposite direction, down among created things and things of sense. The Saviour of us all, the Word of God, in His great love took to Himself a body and moved as Man among men, meeting their senses, so to speak, half way. He became Himself an object for the senses, so that those who were seeking God in sensible things might apprehend the Father through the works which He, the Word of God, did in the body."

At first glance this sounded at once beautiful and potentially sacreligious. Because when my woman-who-was-sexually-abused brain hears the words "an object for the senses", I recoil. But there was that beautiful phrase "in His great love took to Himself a body" and I believe that lock, stock and barrell, so I deliberately let go of my CSA thoughts and took another closer look. And what I saw astounded me with it's beauty.

I visualized my beloved Jesus extending his hand to Thomas, such a human loving inclusive gesture all by itself, and then he speaks "don't believe it's really me? Touch me. it's me, Thomas. Touch me, and remember all the many other times you touched my hand and were comforted. It's me. really. Touch me, and believe."

Of course, by then, poignant tears had gathered in my eyes and I was on board with the phrase "He became Himself an object for the senses." Oh yes he did. And there's my favorite name for Jesus too, Himself. A gift with purchase. Confirmation.

I wanted to hear more, so I clicked on the link provided by the blog author Eric Daryl Meyer (shown here with he and his wife. look at them! aren't they precious?)

This took me to Faith and Theology, a guest post by Oliver Davies. And what a treasure trove I found there!

Get a load of this!

"We constantly treat Christianity as though it were a philosophy or a work of literature (I am not against philosophy or literature) rather than a disclosure to practical intellect which calls us into the radical freedom of action in and for Christ in the world (i.e. the ascended, wounded and glorified Christ). Faith is faith in Christ who acts rather than thinks."

Seriously, y'all. I don't wanna just be smarter. I wanna be CHANGED.

Wait, there's more.

Instead of allowing ourselves to be opened up to the revelation of Christ in the world, communicated through command at work through the senses and the particularity of space and time events ("the command of grace", in Janz's phrase), we focus on the mind as the place of insight, generativity and meaning.

I'll tell you what this means to me. All my life, up until the point of my spiritual and sexual awakening, I thought it was true "Spirit good, mind good, body bad." I really did. As hard to believe as these words sound now, coming from from a woman who experiences God in every orgasm and feels the sweet nearness of the Spirit in every cool breeze on my sweaty face when I run, I used to really believe that. The condition of my heart, the condition of my marriage, the quality of how despised or cherished my sexuality was to me is a living lab test of what those ideas look like in behavior. When I believed my body was bad and my mind was good, I shrank from every touch from my husband and generally rolled my eyes at the depravity of man every time he got an erection. I'm not proud to admit it, but that was my reality. Oh but I was a good Christian girl who "selflessly ministered to her husband" by laying there and taking it. What a martyr! Not even good enough to be called a real martyr either, like Jim Elliot or the first disciple to be stoned to death, because I was laying down and dying for a cause that was contrary to scripture and so FAR from the life of joy God had called me to! What a senseless wasteful non-God-honoring martyr.

But you know my Jesus, he loves us just as we are and loves us too much to leave us that way. Read on.

"And here the third problem arises which follows from the first two: we have lost an understanding of the way we can and should access and be attentive to the presence of Christ in this way. We constantly bypass with mind the very place in which he is present for us in the here and now, which is to do with the senses and with command, since this is a place where the mind does not necessarily want to go."

Yes! Yes! Yes! I used to do that all the time, and folks, I'll tell you why. Because of my own sin and the sin of others, my senses were associated for me with sensations of pain, emotions of pain, shame, doubt, fear, self-loathing and just an overall sense of "ugh get me outta here". Maybe some of you can relate.

But here's the good part. Jesus still lives. And His Lordship in the nitty gritty details of our lives is the way we are to live not just as prescription (take 2 pills and call me in the morning) but as invitation. Invitation to the path to healing we are walk (come walk with me this way my darling and let me heal you, my love). That's my paraphrase and I paraphrase it that way because I have lived it that way. This is the path I've been walking for 16 years.

Oliver Davies puts it this way:

"Getting it" entails seeing that incarnational revelation still comes to us through the senses ("Jesus still lives, and his Lordship in the particularity of our lives is the mode for us of that life"), and that the senses cannot be absorbed without remainder into mind. Thus ascension allows that our faith in Christ can be far closer to that of the apostles than we might ordinarily admit, not on our own account, but on account of the nature of the transformation effected in Christ. Doctrinally (theologically) and anthropologically (philosophically) we have lost the tools and practices which help us to "recognise" him in his transformed state in the everyday reality of our lives where he comes to meet us.

As so often happens in my reading since the internet, I connected the dots between three unrelated poets and writers that from my point of view seem tailor made for each other. On one hand we have these brilliant intellectuals—theology professor no less!— saying in essence, "Excuse me, everybody. Something precious has been lost. And I'm going to do my darndest to show you what and how and show you why and more importantly, show you how to get it back."

For as I read the scholarly article, I remembered the last time—the only time—I've heard a scholar talk about these ideas. It was when I heard Christopher West speak about Theology of the Body at a Created and Redeemed Seminar. I remember Christopher's main point being "Jesus had a real body and our bodies are important because God Almighty thought to inhabit one so we should believe our body is important too and inhabit it well and with truth and honor." That is my paraphrase after attending the 7 hour seminar. (By the way, I do not believe that using birth control violates this cherished concept, since I believe any lovemaking between a husband and wife has the fruit of pleasure and oneness if not the fruit of children) So first as I'm reading, I'm reminded of Theology of the Body.

And then, I'm reminded of the song I sang in church last week. The song that so grounded me and comforted me by reminding me that every area of my life matters to God and is inhabited by God. The song that gave me opportunity to respond to this newfound hope and comfort by pouring our my adoration upon Jesus, or as we say in the South, "singin' my little heart out". Listen to this!

God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping

God in my resting
there in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

God in my hoping
there in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting

God in my laughing
there in my breathing
God in my hurting
God in my healing

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me
the hope of glory
you are everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me
the hope of glory
be my everything

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything

God in my hoping
there in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting

God in my laughing
there in my breathing
God in my hurting
God in my healing

be my everything
be my everything
be my everything
you are everything

So yes, beloved friends, our bodies matter. They matter to Jesus too, as he—by living in us—inhabits our bodies every single day. And everything we do in these bodies matters very VERY much! If it's sin that we're doing with our bodies—slapping our children, abandoning our husbands in the marriage bed, or using drugs or food or the absence of food to numb our aching hearts— we need grace and healing to get to the root of that sin and let Jesus heal us. And if it's not sin that we're doing with our bodies—laying our cool hand on our child's fevered brow, welcoming our husbands and drawing them into our body with passion and tenderness, or caring for and cherishing our bodies in beautiful small ways like eating with gratitude in an attitude of self-care—then we are in the acts of doing these very things, bringing the hands and love of Christ into our world, which is a humbling, immensely gorgeous thing to think about.

Isn't it?

Love,
SW

Epilogue:
Parenting
Once in the course of my life as a mother I lost my temper and slapped one of my children. It was listed as a sin in the article and also listed as a sin I am living in active repentance of. I don't refuse my husband anymore or do emotional eating anymore either. I don't believe there's a mother alive that hasn't lost her temper and slapped her child once or been sorely tempted to do so. But my experience of losing my temper like that disturbed me enough that I took myself to a licensed marriage and family therapist and learned some better parenting strategies. I also took my child to a child therapist and got some treatment for them and we're all doing much better on that regard. The licensed marriage and family therapist who treated me counseled me that my unresolved guilt over slapping my child that one time was far harmful to my effectiveness as a parent than the slap itself because that guilt gave me a propensity to cave into their demands and not keep firm loving boundaries. I hope any parent who reads my story will not hesitate to seek wise counsel for their parenting challenges.

Singles
I want to cherish my single readers by saying that there are many beautiful ways use use our bodies to bring the hands and love of Christ into our world, many many more than the 3 ways I listed. The reason that drove what I listed as ways to bring love is that I began with listing 3 ways I personally used my body to sin and 3 ways I used my body to repent and to love. You're not excluded, beloved darlings, or exempt from embodying the love of Christ just because you are not a wife or mommy. Never meant to imply that, beloved. Not in a hundred years did I mean to imply that. (squeeze your hand and look you in the eye for good measure) Love, SW

We sold our van today. Traded in our plush comfy conversion van for an fuel-efficient 4 cylinder SUV. What we were paying in gasoline every month was enough for a car payment. No lie. So we traded it in. The guys at the dealership appraised our van right away, and then we went out on test drives. When the sales manager came back from inspecting the van and gave us a good offer, he smiled and said, "We see you really enjoyed your van." "Oh yes", we said, "it's so comfortable. We took it on several road trips" We didn't really think anything of their comment. We quickly told him about a vacation road trip story, and then got back to the business of car shopping.

After a long day and many test drives, we made a deal, signed the paperwork and went out to the van to move our stuff from the van to the new SUV.

I was taking some maps and magazines out of the 2nd row seat back pockets when something pink caught my eye. I looked down on the floor between the 3rd row sofabed and the 2nd row captains chair and saw.....my favorite pair of panties! The lacy little panties had been peeled off in the heat of the moment on a date night that went very very well. I'd been wondering where those panties were! I sat down on the sofa and laughed and laughed and laughed. I showed them to Delighted Husband and said, "No WONDER the sales manager said We see you really enjoyed your van"!