Tag Archives: broken

The church hates free sex. I want sex. The church and I are enemies.

I am 20 years old. I have never had sex. I have never had a boyfriend. I have never even “touched myself” (sorry for TMI), and I don’t talk about sex, never ever ever. For the last big chunk of my life, I have craved sex. Why, then, am I so strictly chaste? Because that’s what good girls do. And I am a good girl.

My religion taught me from a young age that sex is bad and that I am bad for wanting it. Sex has been one of my most enjoyed thoughts and one of my deepest, tabooed and stigma-rich secrets. Since I was about 12 I have had sexual fantasies weekly if not daily. (I also have other, violent fantasies, probably from repression of these, but that’s another story.)

I do want sex. I do want a boyfriend. I want to be loved. I want my body to matter. Every day that goes by when I am alone puts another nail in the coffin of my desires. If I had not been forced to be religious when I was growing up, I really doubt that I would be like this. My best friend from elementary school got into BDSM. I’ve no doubt I would have been more like that, or at least romantically involved, without church to constantly yell at me and condemn me for having any physical desire for another person.

I can’t even touch people without my inner “good girl” critic yelling at me. My ingrained church rules effectively stunted my sexual development, and I am yet a virgin (their goal fulfilled!), but it’s a success carried out by shaming and guilt. This is partly why I hate myself now. No matter how well I hide it, I have always been attracted to sex (who hasn’t?), making me question myself and the “demons inside me” at every turn when my church leaders said over and over “sex is bad.” Then, if I want sex, I’m bad. I’m female, so it’s not even possible for me to want sex. I should stand up for my brothers in Christ who are taken over by their own desires and protect them from themselves, and that ends my involvement with sex. I am to be a brick wall until I flip a switch on my wedding night.

I can’t believe that the god who designed sex would give me these feelings and not have a safe place for me to vent, feel them, or even talk about them. My church was not a home for me growing up, and has never felt safe for me to express all of me, because of its condemnation of sexual desire, and its refusal to accept that I am both a woman made in the image of God and a body filled at times with lust and sexual desire.

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We should give gays / LGBT the right to marry, because doing good is more than preventing evil.

I’ve finally made my decision: yes to gay marriage.

We should give homosexuals the right to marry. Not because it is morally right or wrong, but because they have been oppressed. Justice and mercy demand for forgiveness and love for them. How many times does Jesus remark to the pharisees that they should learn what it means to love mercy and seek justice?

Kindness dictates giving people of all sexualities freedom to marry if they so choose. They are God’s children, and to isolate them from the billion other sinful groups (alcoholics, pornography addicts, liars, thieves, the arrogant, people who don’t observe the sabbath, adulterers) is stupid –  it’s scapegoating society’s problems onto them, and judging them. They’re no more fallen than the rest of us. It is not their burden to bear. They are often victims. Instead of trying to legalize the gayness out of them, maybe we can turn to focus on the poor, the orphan, the widow, the prisoner, and the stranger, and help those instead. Doing good is more than preventing evil. At a certain point, you just have to let it go, and America is past that point.

Found and lost.

Dark thoughts today. Here’s a rough draft, inspired by Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. I’m struggling with unbelief right now, and I’m expressing some of what I feel when God is distant, when I cry for help and He doesn’t seem to realize that I’m where I am because of him. I do need to stop blaming my God for how he changes my life, because of course He’s working for my good. I should be always grateful and loving, but yet… My poems usually turn happy or peaceful at the end. This one scares me for how morose I come across. I spent almost no time on rhymes or meter, and repeated a few words. In a few weeks I’ll rework this (shorten it), and see if I can’t make it golden. Suggestions welcome! ~Cheers!

Found and lost.

I sat as stone, trapped and cold,
thinking dreams of being known.
I sat alone.
To save my life, so hid my soul,
safe in what I’d always known.
I sat alone.

The dark, dank feel of ice and stone
beneath my form, within my bone.
My heart silent and alone.
I sat alone. I was unknown.

‘Til the day I heard a song.
Into my cave, a bird had flown.
Ice like a knife speared my heart;
it knew I was alone.
I tasted once of life and light
and sought to go back home outside.
Sweet songs of birds I heard outside
and with a moan I wished for more.
I wanted life. To live!

This body moving once again,
I lifted up, weak and thin.
To chase the light, the bird took flight,
and led me up a towering height
of stones and rubble, cold and tight,
until I soon would see the light.
I longed for warmth, for friends and might.
Lazy days beneath the sun,
dancing, hope, and pure delight.
Onto earth, above the stone,
to have what I had never known.
I chased the light.

My heart woke and urged me on.
Quickly up now flew the bird.
It fluttered eager far and fast
to find its nest above the ground.
Its heartbeat gave me strength.
My rocky corpse soared on until
it froze me one last time.
Shadows played upon the stone.
Almost home, and not alone.

Hope which I had never known
warmed me up and filled my chest.
Freedom from my now-past chains,
oh my life is surely blessed!
I beat my hand upon my breast,
my thudding blood timed my moan.
Almost there and almost home.
I signed and cheered and flung my all
with untold might into what I
would become in the light,
in my home, in dance and song.
I walked out of the stone,
into light, exposed and cold.

And crumpled, blind and burning hot.
Thus Hell has come today.
It sits as fire in my bones,
wanting, eating, never done.
The birds have left, my heart is closed.
My dreams have flown, weak and worn.
To dust I shall return today,
if I can’t return to stone,
to my sacred, loyal stone.

Long time I mired in the fire
til blessed nightfall killed the sun.
If I’d had strength, so I’d have done.
Helpless, I sank back to stone.
Away from light, the life I’d chased
closed me into stone, my tomb,
awoke my heart to send it home,
to seek its want and follow hope.
Never stopping, still it’s beating.
The cold cuts me; I’m so alone.
I am not stone, I have a heart.
But now I have no home.

Still its beating. Send me on!
I don’t belong.
Too cold for life, too hot for stone.
Haunted now by asking why.
Can the light belong to me?
Can this evil, boiling fire be harnessed in my stone,
to make this world a home and free me from my own?
Well-reasoned logic? eternal sin?
rejecting the light for the ice within.
How do I know why life hates me so?
I’m chained in fear of the light, now,
instead of by my stone.

Hell welcomed me today.
Was that my home? I’ll never know.
I’m dead today, in fire and ice.
Must be nice to have a home.
I’m a new hearth upon my stone.
This is my home, where I’m known and owned.
My body rests at last,
and my heart again is stone.

Fasting

Stomach: I’m hungry. Feed me!

Mind: Oh, you haven’t been fed? That’s odd; I usually remember to eat. But I’m fasting today! So I can’t give you food.

Stomach: Why not?

Mind: (a second of confusion)… I’m not eating. I want to focus on God, so I’m giving up the time and focus I usually spend on food to God. [Move focus to God and pray.] My dear father in heaven, today is about You. I praise you for the strength I have had today to fast so far and I pray that you will give me discernment in the situation I’m in that I want to figure out. This is for you.

~Two minutes later~

Stomach: I need food!

Mind: Oh, I was praying and became distracted. I’ll continue to focus on the Spirit over the flesh.

~A day of two minutes later~

My mind is more aware of God. But I am irritable and a bit light-headed. This is bringing out a darker side of me. Right now all I can see is how unloving I am compared to other people. I am prideful and rude, and I step on toes all over the place. I am offended by the gospel and by love. No matter how I try to change, I don’t get better. I treat my symptoms, but there’s something deeper within me that needs fixing, that only God can do. Something in me is broken, and the best I can do to be good is to change my behavior where I see myself going against what I have been told I am supposed to be. That is never sustainable. This is not a good place to be. I am not free. All of the outward signs I give off that I’m free, that God has freed me, are born of my work to copy people around me who are free, who are Christian. I deeply want that freedom for myself. But I’m so lazy. That’s not an excuse, but a description. Unless God does some miraculous work in me, or holds my hand very tightly while I work, guiding me through in His gentle, loving way, I will remain as I am. So I force my body to go through something it finds unnatural as one step I can take to be more aware of my God, of my only hope. This brings my body into submission and helps me maintain a posture of submission to God.

Stomach: I’m hungry.

Mind: God, I need you now.

Heart: My Lord, please rescue me. Please change me.