With several documents open, I was sitting here trying to decide which of my very drafty drafts to flesh out into a blog post. I’d come home early, the kids would be out of the house for hours, and I had my Häagen-Dazs coffee ice cream in front of me.
I kept drifting back to the draft about my sexual needs not being met recently. Yes, after my years of avoiding sex and causing my husband so much heartache, I’m now in the position of feeling sexually neglected. I know it’s just for a season, and I know there are lessons for me and opportunities for growth. But still, it’s hard. I tried to talk with him last night, pointing out that I need his help navigating this version of our shared lives. He was concerned that my sexual frustration means that I’m becoming unhappy in our marriage. I fell asleep sad. I woke up sad. Sad because I’ve been missing our connection. Sad because I’m reminded of what I did to him all those years. Sad because he thinks I’m unhappy in our marriage. Sad because I wonder if he thinks that because it’s how he felt during the years I sexually neglected him.
So I was sitting here, with my mind wandering back to what was so far just a bunch of whining. I prayed for a while, thinking surely God would tell me what to write. The response from God was, “Trust.” So I kept sitting here, checking Facebook, trying to think of a clever tweet to send out, losing (again) at level 65 of Candy Crush Saga, struggling to trust when I really just wanted to whine. I was still sad. I prayed some more, deciding to stop worrying about a blog post today and spend time praying for my marriage. I prayed that my sadness would lift and that my husband would be reassured that I love him and I love our marriage. Then I went back to losing at Candy Crush.
And then he came home from work. And he noticed that the kids were gone. And he invited me upstairs. It amazes me how when I am in greatest need of connection, the connection we make is at its greatest. I have no idea how long we were in bed. Five minutes? An hour? I have no idea. I don’t care. The sex was awesome, and my husband and I both felt completely loved.
I came back downstairs a completely different woman than I’d been when my husband got home. The amazing combination of sexual pleasure, total focus on each other, and the easy intimacy and laughter we have with each other infused my entire being with contentment and connection. I sat back with what I’m told was a dreamy expression on my face. Sex is a powerful thing to be able to do that to a person. My entire mood changed, all because my husband and I made love.
So here I am, back at my laptop, still losing at Candy Crush Saga. But somehow, I just don’t seem to care anymore. Sex is just that good.