I did something really clever in preparation for Holy Week. I read Perelandra.
It wasn't on purpose. What was on purpose was listening to Handel's Messiah during Holy Week, as that oratorio was written for Easter (not Christmas), and anyway, every time someone started quoting Messianic passages (in church or online or wherever), I could only
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And also because hormones, however compelling they seem when you're young and single, have a way of mellowing out or even outright deserting you later down the road -- especially once you have kids -- and no matter how loving and wonderful and attentive a husband you may have, there are days when intimacy seems like just another chore on the to-do list and frankly, you'd rather have that extra half-hour's sleep!
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Man, I'm glad not to be there anymore, though. :) It's nothing to do with singleness as such, at all; but I'm having a hard time not being angry with my past self for, even while I enjoyed my life then, being so very withdrawn and fearful and unable to find prodigality within myself. Perhaps this anger is a necessary bridge between my past and my constantly-coming future freedom.
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It seems somewhat unfair to have to go seek out prodigality, instead of having it handed to me, but then again, how many wives/mothers are in a wasteland of abundance? All of us must strive for the balance.
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