I'm not gonna do this every week but every now and then I get a hankering to repost a favorite blog post. I call this hankering Flashback Friday.

Today, I'm thinking about a beautiful evening I enjoyed before and after the trick-or-treaters rang my doorbell.

From November 1st, 2007, here is the post in its entirety:

I'm learning that saving time to be together is important and that you don't have to feel energetic and horny before you walk in the bedroom in order to have a beautiful pleasurable evening. Some of you have known this for years. For me, it's big news.

I knew Delighted Husband and I had saved this evening for each other. And on evenings we plan to be together, I usually save some mental and physical energy for him and deliberately think carnal thoughts all day in anticipation. But I didn't this last time. I had a good but busy day at work, had an emotionally uplifting lunch with my girlfriends, and had a challenging couple of hours helping the DC with their homework and coaching them through several tudes. By the end of the two hours, I felt wrung out like a sponge. I went to DH and said "I need skin to skin for a few minutes. I"m worn out." He was quick to oblige, as he had heard me calmly standing my ground with the children who were trying to turn "bitch moan and argue with mom" into an Olympic sport.

We locked ourselves in our room and quickly got naked for some cuddles. I sighed with comfort and pleasure as I nestled into his arms. "Remind me" I asked. And so he did. Delighted Husband gave me two or three sentences reminding me good things about myself. Words of affirmation and physical touch together are a powerful combination. I began to feel myself recharge, like a dead cell phone on a charger lighting up again. We cuddled and caressed each other and without trying, words spilled out of my mouth, complimenting him and loving on him. Reminding him what a wonderful man he was. Which took absolutely no effort to come up with affirming words considering how loving he had just shown himself to be.

This wasn't steamy talk by any means. Our skin-to-skin contact was for bonding and affirmation, not arousing. It was the "sharing your heart's life force" definition of Eros, not the "tingly thrilling do me" definition of Eros. Our fifteen minutes passed quickly and the doorbell ringing with the first trick or treaters told us our time was up.

I went to get dinner going and DH took over door duty with the trick or treaters.

Dinner was yummy and punctuated by doorbell ringing every few minutes. It was fun to chat with the neighbors, although difficult to eat between visitors, but what do we expect?

Finally got the DC tucked in after their sugar rush, and DH and I knew our "date" time had arrived. We were both tired and achy, but wanted to be together. Both of us said something to this effect while we were standing in the kitchen. We decided to go for it and see what God might do for us.

Walking in our bedroom and locking the door was an act of faith. We had zero tingly erotic urgency. Our muscles were tired and achy. But we felt emotionally connected and a desire to make the most of the opportunity. After all, we were in our bedroom at 9pm with kids already tucked in their own beds. Just watching TV or going to sleep would feel like we squandered an opportunity.

I suggested a massage and spread the liberator throe over the comforter to keep massage oil off the bed. After joking over whose turn it would be first, I laid down on my back with my knees supported by the liberator whirl. This is where the first of many miracles happened. It didn't take five minutes of smelling him and feeling him touch me that I was very aroused. As our arousal became more visible, we kept joking, "I'm too tired" "Oh me too. I'm way too tired." That position actually did become tiring for Delighted Husband so we switched so he could lie down with the whirl under his knees. I became the active pleasurer which I enjoyed very much. DH let me know how much pleasure he was receiving which of course made my heart feel that good feeling you get inside when you know somebody is enjoying the gift you gave them. It was also a huge turn-on. We warmed to the task. Delighted Husband became the active pleasurer again, while I rocked happily. He asked me to hand him a certain toy while he told me what he was about to do to me and how he knew I was going to respond. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Gazing into his eyes, I came in about 6 seconds, which surprized the heck out of both of us. How'd we do that? We're too tired!

After I caught my breath, we switched to our favorite finish position. Delighted Husband positioned me the way he wanted me, which is such a small simple thing, but I love that because it demonstrates our being relaxed and comfortable and his matter-of-fact intent to take me which is just such an emotional rush. I have no idea how long we made love because time stood still. Smiling into his eyes while watching my husband come is one of the sweetest spiritual and emotional experiences I've ever had. He is magnificent.

Once we came back down to earth, told each other it was time for a quick shower and then sleep, cause we really were tired. Shower was shared and quick with much grinning at each other. I happened to glance at the clock on my way back to bed from the shower. It was 9:30!

"Oh My God! Honey, look, soup to nuts this whole lovemaking was 30 minutes! Can you believe it?" To say we both thanked God would be putting it mildly. I thank God for the toy and pillows that helped us coax pleasure out of an evening when the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. I suspect that the DHA and EPA supplements I took for the last few days may have had something to do with my quick response. (I'm on The Orgasmic Diet which is another article). Most of all, I believe miracles still happen. Even in the marriage bed. I blame this miracle on our generous loving God rewarding our small act of faith of locking the door even though we were too tired.

I hope you enjoyed this memory as much as I did! Happy Flashback Friday!

One of my favorite ways to cultivate a sensuous life is to look for and seize opportunities for pleasure. All kinds of pleasure perceived through all the senses. Tonight I chose to delight my sense of sight and I want to share it with you.

For several months now, I've had six boxes stacked neatly in the corner of my dining room. I told myself I'd likely be moving from this beautiful apartment to a house in a year or so and I'd save myself of the trouble of repacking my china and crystal. After all, I'd unpacked everything else or stacked it neatly in storage. I had plenty of darling casual dishes in the kitchen. Why did I need china?

Except I did.

I like it. I have always liked china. I like beauty and I love integrating beauty into my everyday life. I bought my few china plates on clearance when I was 22 and I loved eating off of my bargain china when I got my first tiny apartment. China is sensuous. The shiny finish. The rich colors. The textures. The lavishness of it. The luxury of it.

Can you tell I like china?

So it dawned on me tonight. What am I waiting for? After thinking about it for a minute, I realized that on some level I felt like I was waiting. Waiting for more financial security. Waiting until I bought another house. Waiting until I remarried. Almost as if I was waiting until some magic sense of security and permanence before I let myself drink in the sight of luxury again.

But that's just silly! It's mine already!

So I unpacked the china. I let myself enjoy the design aspect of placing the plates and wine glasses in the china cabinet in a new fresh way. Not the same as before.

I know right? An empty china cabinet sitting here in my dining room for nearly six months! And now my lonely china cabinet is full and happy.

And lemme tell you, darlings. It looks beautiful! Lovely! My sweet eyes drinking in the sight.

Beauty matters. Integrate and invite beauty into your life every chance you get. Not all of you have wedding gift china like I do. That's okay. Go with one of your girlfriends to a china store at an outlet mall and see what you can get for twenty bucks. You'll be surprised what snazzy little pieces you can find on clearance. Darlings, quit waiting for the undefined something. Create beauty in your world now! Savor little luxuries in your everyday.

As I placed the crystal on the glass shelves and while I mixed and matched a place setting so I could take a picture for this article, I imagined how unbelievably erotic it would be to set the table for two with china and candlelight and greet Sensuous Husband wearing nuthin' but a filmy little sumthin'. And I smiled. And winked to myself.

Something I've learned recently is that comparing myself with another woman or worse yet someone else comparing me to another woman is a shortcut ticket to misery. I want to share some thoughts that have helped me find my way out of the comparison trap.

I must live in the light of God's sovereignty.
Trusting His good heart toward me.
Trusting God did a good job when he made me.
Trusting God and I and I together are doing a good job of continuing to make me.
I must accept God's grace toward me as sufficient,
and not fall into either ditch of pride or envy.
Pride says I'm better than someone else.
Envy says I think someone else's possessions or traits or qualities are better than mine and I therefore find my own possessions or traits or qualities not good enough, less-than, unsatisfactory.
God created me.
God did a great job and took great joy in making me.
And I can take great joy in making me too, because I am made by, shaped by, changed by the choices that I make day after day after day.
Making the choice to grow and change is a good thing.
But healthy change MUST be secondary to the foundation of truth that says:
God is sovereign, God is good, God is loving, and this good God shaped me with tender care.
It is in this warm solid foundation, that change is good and welcomed for I know I was delightful already before the change.

And being humble and vulnerable and tender and strong,
giving God plenty of elbow room to work,
that can only yield good things.

Feeling this, knowing this , believing this
feels
SO VERY GOOD.

and I'm delighted to share it with you.

With love,
Shula

PS Thinking about God creating me led me to this video of creation. I belong smack-dab amongst all this other created beauty cause the very same artist made me. Ooooh! Love that!

I woke up at the crack of 5:30 in the morning and stumbled into my kitchen to put the ham into the oven for roasting. Really tired and sleepy as I had not slept much over the last coupla days, working till all hours on the site. I checked Twitter for a few minutes and saw several people's posts to MCHammer telling what they're thankful for. Intrigued, and ever being a child of the 80's, I visited MCHammer's twitter profile. He said, "I'm going to place this stream of Thanks underneath the song as a Prayer for you and your family all year long (2009)...What R U Thankful 4?friends, humanity, visions, dreams, ....this is my song of "Thanks" all year long... "Thankful"..http://mchammer.com/ a song of warfare..

Ever the curious cat, I clicked on the link and listened to the song. And I was greeted by the same hip-squirmin' finger snappin' rhythm his music always had. Then I listened to the words. Whoa. In a twinkling moment, I felt like I was wearin' a choir robe and swayin' and sangin' with the gospel choir at a Black Baptist church like I did one summer when I was a little girl. It felt good. Real good.

So then I sat down to type out a reply. Twitter posts are short teeny short blog posts. 140 characters. I knew one post wasn't going to do, so I kept posting. Here is what I said:

that none of my family were injured or killed in Hurricane Ike, our house is still standing, the love of my husband and children

the spark of life within me, the love & creative energy I share with the sensuouswife team, chance to be contagious hope.

being a woman, all the joy and delight I create in my kitchen, laughter having it sharing it, dancing with Delighted Husband

offering beauty to my world what a privilege! what a joy!, the healing love of God that chases after me even when I hide,

the friends who have crawled into my foxhole with me and helped me transform out of suffering and into joy

the loving, healing, life-affirming joy of sex, the glory and the power of it, wild or tender, redemptive healing hotness. one.

thank you for asking me2take inventory of all good things in my life. I woke tired &grouchy to get up & cook.I go to bed happy ...

And on that note, I will go back to bed and snuggle up next to Delighted Husband. Thank you oh friends of blogdom, for sharing your lives with me and allowing me to share my life with you. I love you all and I thank God for you. mwah! -Shula

PS Isn't it so cool how Himself rescued me from resentment and guided me back to gratitude and joy? I'm tellin' ya, Resentment is a sneaky bastard. Gratitude is the cure!

I don't know how far I'm going to go with the addiction terminology because you know I'm too much of a bird in flight to focus on the negative. But I've had some harsh realizations lately about how often I was medicating my self, numbing my feelings by using food. The first few days were harsh. Really harsh. How many days is it? How many days has it been? I cannot remember which is a goshdarned blessing in itself. I'm no longer white-knuckling it and counting the days.
(pause)
(sigh)
(smile)
Cool. That's something to celebrate. So anyway, what I was saying earlier is all caveats aside, there's a term I heard from AA "Hi I'm (name) and I'm a grateful recovering alcoholic." The key word here is grateful.
I am grateful.

There's a line from a movie that comes to mind; a movie called The Doctor. In the movie (Netflix it you'll enjoy it) William Hurt plays a doctor that is a cariacature of the obnoxious-SOB-who-thinks-he's-God-doctor. As the movie progresses, the doctor learns he has a fatal disease and has a short time to live. And he changes his life from the inside out, because he knows he only has a while to live. While the doctor is engaging in a random act of kindness, one of his colleagues is surprized and asks him what he is doing. The doctor's reply: I have an illness that has given me permission to live like I like because I won't be living much longer. They key phrase for me is "gives me permission".

I don't have a fatal illness, but if I let this addiction to food run wild, it could destroy my health. It could have become fatal. Easy. And I have found that by living my life sober (which for me is eating with gratitude and joy until I'm no longer physically hungry and not to numb or stuff my feelings) by living my life sober, and working to stay sober, has given me permission to do some really brave stuff.

I'll give you an example.

Several days of not eating sugar when I want to "calm my nerves" (read: stuff my feelings) several days of this has made it really clear to me that resentment is often the trigger to me having the urge to eat addictively. Another AA quote comes to mind "resentment will kill ya" or "resentment is an emotion I cannot afford if I want to stay sober". Damn! Those AA folks really have some wisdom don't they? (grin) So anyway, my point is if I want to eat healthy and not eat addictive I have to deal with my resentment.

This morning, I shared a tearful phone call with the roomate I lived with when Delighted Husband and I got engaged. I moved out soon thereafter when I-oh how do I say this without maligning her? Sigh. Let's just say our friendship and my living there ended badly and I felt forced into buying my way out of the lease. I could say more, but that's enough. The point is that I has resentment towards her.

So I haven't seen this gal in years and years. Twelve or thirteen years. I had done some forgiveness work in counseling and I felt it was a good outcome that angry thoughts of her no longer entered my mind. Live and let live and all of that.

Well this morning, she and I spent a half hour on the phone with both of us taking turns crying and her telling me she loved me and she was so sorry and me telling her I loved her and I forgave her. She prayed for me that I would be healed. And I was.

Now how in the sam hill did this happen??

This happened because I kept running into mutual friends of her every.where. and thoughts of her, no fear of running into her, this bone deep anxiety just permeated my thoughts. And when bone deep anxiety permeates my thoughts, you know what I am tempted to do, dontcha?

Medicate my feelings with chocolate. Or any other sugar I can get my hands on. After a few days, I knew I had to deal. I knew if I didn't deal with this situation, deal with her one way or another that I was going to act addictively.

My connection with this mutual friend made it possible for me to send a message to Roommate Girl via email. I typed out this message:
(name)
Out of the blue, God has brought you to mind several times over the last few days. I think God wants to heal a piece of my heart. Would you help me? Maybe you will feel healing too.
I'd like to call you and talk for 20 minutes or so. What is a good time and a good number for you?
(my name)

Through the same grapevine chain, came this reply:
I would love that. My cell number is (number) and you can most easily reach me during (time)

So I called her.

Now I had done my homework with God early this morning. I sat down with my journal and wrote out what I wanted to say to her, what I hoped to say to her if I actually had the courage to go through with it. Basically, I told our parting story from my point of view using I statements instead of you statements and telling what her actions were and what my feelings were. I cried several times while writing it, and I cried a lot after I finished writing it. I felt what I can only describe as God comforting me. Just a peace and that Himself was proud of me.

When I called Roommate Girl, I reasurred her that I didn't hate her and that I just wanted to feel free of pain and resentment and would she please let me talk from my heart for a few minutes. She said that would be okay. I broke down crying a few times as I told my story. Our story. The story of how our "us" died. When I started crying and stopped talking, she actually encourged me to keep going. At the end of my story, I told her "could you maybe love the me from all those years ago and could you maybe find a kind word to say to her?"

And she did.

Oh my God. She did. She told me she loved me and she deeply regretted her actions and that she didn't want me to hurt anymore and that one of the things that hurt me the most was actually a huge misunderstanding. Which could be bullshit, but it's not. It wasn't. She actually was able to explain how one of her actions which broke my heart in two was actually driven by a different motive than the one I had ascribed to it. But by that point back then, we weren't talking anymore. So. I find out she made big mistakes back then, which I knew, I found out she didn't have quite the hateful motive I interpreted at the time, which I didn't know. The most important thing I found out that I didn't know was that Roommate Girl still loved me and she didn't want me to hurt anymore.

Oh.
My.
God.

And if I had stuffed these feelings with food, I would have never found this out.
Ever.

So you see why I'm grateful?

Love,
Shula

wells deep inside me
sweet salty lifegiving water
flowing flowing flowing
like Jacob's well a
neverending stream of more more more
more lifegiving words of humanness and pathos and pain and beauty and joy so big it
cannot be contained
in my skin
so it spills out
joy so big i cry it out come it out sing it out shout it out
tears and nectar and notes and words
joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy
big audacious joy that would be obnoxious
were she not so charming
in her childlike invitation
sit down play alongside her
a playground built for two to which the whole world is invited
come as you are come as you are come as you are
life and joy and healing beckon

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?

I posted a rant post last night, part of my personal therapy, I suppose. A few hours later, I pulled the post, feeling like I was at the prom and had just discovered the back of my dress was tucked into my pantyhose.

But today, I put it back.

And here's why.

One of the support groups that helped me get well has this saying "sharing our encouragement strength and hope". That's why I started this blog. To tell my evolving redemption st0ry and to have a place to post my aha! moments. Like I've said before, I am redeemed, and I cannot shut up about it.

So I had said from the start that this blog would have no rants. That I would get my shit togther offline and tell y'all about it later. I made an exception last night, and I have decided to let it stand. My reason for leaving a post up that makes me look like I have my prom gown stuck in my pantyhose? Jealousy.

Jealousy?

Yeah. Let me explain. I received an email from someone I care about, a girlfriend I've known for a little over a year telling me basically "don't call me I'll call you I can't stand being around you anymore because you have everything I want and I'm so jealous I just can't stand it anymore."

I actually didn't feel angered or hurt by this. I felt a profound respect for her. Because I've been there. And mercy is contagious.

I believe there are two kinds of jealousy.

Envy-which says the only good in the world is the good I do not have therefore I will stew in resentment and misery
Desire for more-which says I really want what they have enough that I will get honest with God and another human being about my desire and I will do whatever it takes to have what I desire, one good choice at a time.

So that's why I tattled on myself. Let the rant stand. Because I wanted to show that living alive to pleasure received through the senses and committed to enjoying my man and being enjoyed by him for life sometimes isn't easy. And really, most of the time, the problem is between my two ears. My own thoughts. My own attitudes. My own choices. Something can happen that rocks my confidence, and then I open my own mouth in griping and helpless tantrum anger and make the situation oh so much worse. Which is what I did last night. Chuck Swindoll said "perfectionists are people who take pains—and then give them to other people." Sigh. Raise my right hand. Yep. Here I am exhibit A.

So what happened?

What choices did I make between my fit of woes at 10:30 last night and 9am this morning?

Well, I made a few good choices.

I got honest with God, myself and another human being.

I spilled out my wrath onto the page and asked a few of my girlfriends to read it and pray for me. God, that's what I love about online community. Someone is awake and online somewhere at 10:30pm. I even did what might seem risky or downright foolish. But when desperation trumps pride it's amazing what you'll do to get well. I called my Mom. At 10:30 at night, I called her. I knew they'd be awake, and they were. Eating popcorn and watching a movie with Beloved Child. I told her, "Mom, I screwed up and I want you to pray for me. I had sucky nonexistent boundaries and so I spent what was supposed to be dinner with my husband talking with my mother about my office which I had gone to the salon in a valiant attempt to ignore. Because I didn't want to think about work this weekend. It's totally my fault. You did nothing wrong. It's my deal. I just want to ask you to pray for me because I am really mad at myself for not speaking up. Because I know you and I know you know wives and mamas need Grandma babysitters for a reason. And if I had said "Mom I really want dinner with just my husband tonight" you would have whisked Beloved Child away and bought him a burger on the way to your house. But I didn't. And I'm really mad at myself." "Is your husband mad at you?" "NO! It's me. It's my dumb choice and it's me who's angry at me. Will you pray for me?" And she did. Then she said "you can go have fun tonight. You can forgive yourself. You can do that."

My sweet girlfriend who was awake at 10:30pm and online sent me the sweetest email that said, "Quote >>
And when I'm angry at myself in close proximity to Delighted Husband, it sounds like I'm angry at him. But I'm not. I'm angry AT myself NEAR him.
<< Quote

I hear you. I'm so sorry that the conditioned "yes" response escaped your lips! BTDT. I feel your pain tonight, I really do. You'll do better next time!!!"

It meant the WORLD to me. I began to feel like "Hey Miss Girl. Snap out of it. Forgive yourself. Your unforgiveness toward yourself is hurting your husband. Get off the cross! Somebody needs the wood!"

I walked over to the microwave where I have this little quote from The Message. "Bridle your wrath, cool your pipes. It only makes things worse."

So I crept back to bed. Snuggled up to Delighted Husband and whispered an apology into his shoulder blade. "Did you really have a tantrum and talk all mean and angry, honey? I thought it was just a bad dream."
Ack!
Thus began a second helping of humble pie. My sincere apology. I began to pet and stroke his hair. And with every happy murmur he made, I felt my tension release. I forgave myself my little boundary boo-boo. I forgave myself for my fit of anger towards myself. I can be so mean to myself. And it makes me so mean to the people who love me. Shit rolls downhill.

Why am I telling y'all this?

Because I want you to know that the love I have with Delighted Husband is real. And sometimes hard work. And anything good I have. Anything good I have to share with y'all is mine because of the grace of God, the love and support of some healthy loving friendships, and my one good choice at a time.

Don't be jealous of my life.
Go build your own. One good choice at a time.
I'm just a regular girl who has made a series of good choices and has been humble enough to backtrack my bad choices and let myself be loved in spite of them.
Nobody (besides yourself) will be happier for you than me. Because I will know how much it cost you. And I will celebrate you and respect you so much. Every little victory matters so much.

Lordy! I hope this comes out right. I'm afraid it might sound uppity, but there I am with my prom dress tucked into my pantyhose and there's nothing haughty about that! (smile shaking head rolling my eyes) What I am trying to say is I love y'all, and I want you to be well. Almost as much as I want my self to be well. And I've recieved so much love from this online community. So much support for my halting steps toward good choices. I feel it's the least I can do to tattle on myself and let you know how your love and prayers have made such a difference in my life and marriage.

If this made any sense to you whatever, please have mercy on me and let me know. A girl likes to think she didn't bare her pantyhose for nothin! (laugh)
Love,
SW

Our life unfolds as a story. Each life story contains darkness and light, pain and healing, suffering and redemption in glory in our own custom-blended mix. Stories really speak to me. Most any story that shows a glimpse of healing or redemption will capture my interest. Since I've been very open about my journey from fractured abuse to whole hotness, you might imagine that stories that portray sexual redemption and healing will find a special place in my heart. Yep, you're right. They do.

I've put a new list on the sidebar called Sexual Redemption Stories. These books tell the story of one human's journey from painful abuse in their past to uninhibited joy with their spouse. Sometimes this uninhibited joy is (cough) rather uninhibited. Erotic even. I feel free to celebrate this married lack of inhibition for the healing that it is, but I realize some people feel uncomfortable with stories of an erotic nature, even if the eroticism is shown in married context. I want y'all to feel inspired not uncomfortable, so I've put an *next to those story titles. I trust you will let your discerning hearts lead you as you read.

I'll say a little about each book I post, by way of introduction, when I add them to the sidebar list.

And I want to hear from you!

Have you read a story that shows a journey away from pain toward uninhibited joy in the marriage bed?

I want to read 'em! And if they speak to me, I'll put 'em on the sidebar.

Any recommendations?

Oh, I guess I should add that I'm looking for stories that have an overall tone of love and redemption where the characters treat each other with love and respect and passion. Sometimes the character's painful past can be a bumpy ride, and I'm okay with that as long as the healing part of the journey is loving, healthy, passionate, respectful and relational destination.

M'kay?

I'm so looking forward to hearing what y'all recommend!

for all who are thirsty
all who are weak
come to the fountain
dip your heart in the springs of life
let the pain and the sorrow
be washed away
on the waves of his mercy
as deep cries out to deep
we sing
come Lord Jesus come

Oh friends!
The good news of Jesus is too good to be true.
but it is.
It is true.

My friend Gemma posted an Easter sermon that just touched my heart right where it needed to be touched.

Oh friends, I am weeping as I type.
I have so many roles and responsibilities.
There is never enough time to do them all.
Something is always left undone.
I dodge bullets all the time. Deadlines. Customers. Vendors. Defensive driving affidavit that must be notarized and returned on time. I found out this weekend that my driver's license expired on my birthday. Gotta get that renewed. In person. For a photo. My desk is loaded with paper. It's the stuff of life. I'm not saying my load is any harder than anyone else's. But I realized today how much I live my life under the gun. Perpetually behind on something. If I can take care of the people I love and do right by the relationships God has blessed me with, and keep the most pressing paperwork needs taken care of, then I figure I'm doing all right. Relationships are very very important to me. So I make the other stuff wait their place in line. But I didn't realize how often I am mentally looking over my shoulder. Sort of a spiritually and emotionally "on the lam". I'm not breaking any laws on a regular basis. Well except for the fact that I have been driving without a license for quite some time (Lordy!) but in general, I'm doing good. I'm offering love and beauty and living a life that pleases God. So why do I feel so perpetually behind all the time? The line of people who want a piece of me is a long line.

I didn't realize all this was playing like background noise in my heart until I read:

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.

The Lord gives rest to those who come at the eleventh hour,
even as to those who toiled from the beginning.

To one and all the Lord gives generously.
The Lord accepts the offering of every work.
The Lord honours every deed and commends their intention.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

First and last alike, receive your reward.
Rich and poor, rejoice together!

Conscientious and lazy, celebrate the day!
You who have kept the fast, and you who have not,
rejoice, this day, for the table is bountifully spread!

Feast royally, for the calf is fatted.
Let no one go away hungry.
Partake, all, of the banquet of faith.
Enjoy the bounty of the Lord's goodness!
—A PASCHAL SERMON by St. John Chrysostom (347-407)

It's as though Jesus is saying, "those of you who cannot or did not get it right, you come to the party anyway. Come and enjoy darlings, with no reproach or misgiving or ill will. Come and enjoy. Come and dine. Feast, even. Drink deeply and enjoy. My grace and paid the bill and invited you. The bar is open."

Oh thank you Jesus.
Yes, I believe I will.

And thank you Gemma. For yes I did need to be reminded that this fast paced overloaded culture I'm living in where the goals are not always achievable and the pace is not always healthy, just becuase my to do list runneth over doesn't mean I need to live under a chronic sense of lowgrade failure or disappointment. I'm loving God and loving people and applying my energy to all the tasks set before me knowing at the getgo that they will never all get done. I'm showing up and loving God and loving people and doing my best to do right by my responsibilities. And by the grace of God, that's enough. Heck, if I WASN'T loving God, loving people, and doing my best, by the grace of God that's enough. It's enough. He is enough. He is my enough. I have outsourced my enough and my vendor's name is Jesus. Bless his holy name.