When I was in my 20s, I went through a difficult period with my sexuality. So I thought I’d tell the story in case it is beneficial to any of the single folk who frequent this site.
I was single and twenty-five, and I was working in Atlanta, Georgia. I was dating a sweet and kind Christian boy that I had met on some online dating service. His name was Charlie. He was cute. He loved God. He had a lot of passion for God’s people. We had a lot of fun hanging out in the city together. We both enjoyed eating at the Flying Biscuit. We even had fun making out when his roommates were out of town on the weekends.
But there was one little problem with Charlie.
I wasn’t in love with him.
But I had this other friend. His name was Rob. And I had known Rob since middle school. We had kept in touch through college. We had been each other’s dates when our high school friends got married. But Rob and I were just friends. He had a girlfriend. They’d been together for awhile. But Rob and I always kept in touch. I’d keep him posted on how things were going with Charlie. He’d keep me posted on how things were going with Jennifer.
But there was one problem with Rob.
I was starting to fall in love with him.
And so I came to this time in my life where I was feeling quite stuck. I had a boyfriend I didn’t love, and I had a friend who I did love. And I didn’t know what to do about it.
And so I had a problem in my social life.
But I also had a problem in my private life.
I was a girl who had always been rather horny. I had masturbated since I was a young teenager. But I always did my best to be respectful of others when I approached masturbation. I had a rule for myself that I was only allowed to masturbate to thoughts of imaginary people or to a person who would expect that I would be masturbating to thoughts of them and who I knew would be okay with that (which pretty much narrowed it down to people I was dating…in this case, Charlie).
But there came a point when I was 25 and dating Charlie that I could no longer achieve orgasm when thinking about him. It just quit working. And I knew that the relationship was going to have to end. Instead of Charlie, I was suddenly having thoughts of Rob running through my mind. Oh…I wanted him to touch me so badly!
But Rob, you’ll remember, had a girlfriend.
And my sense of morality just wouldn’t let me find peace with having thoughts of another girl’s boyfriend.
I was frustrated and horny.
And I soon found myself trying to escape from my frustrations by looking at porn and reading some vile erotica. But it made me feel dirty inside. And I knew this wasn’t the answer either.
In my frustration, I threw myself on my bed one night and cried out to God. I was such a mess. I was horny and in such a moral dilemma. I just didn’t know what to do.
I remember yelling at God (haha, I have a tendency of doing that sometimes), and telling him he made me this way! He made me horny! He made me like this, and he needed to do something about it! It was his problem, not mine! He needed to fix it! Fix me!
And he did.
I can’t remember if it was that night or a night soon after. But I was lying in bed touching myself, and I started to pray. I prayed a calm prayer this time. I said, God, I have to touch myself. You know I have to do this. You made me like this. You need to show me how to do this the right way. You need to teach me how to navigate this so that I am not thinking of people I have no business thinking about.
And then my prayer changed a little bit. I started thanking him. Because I’ve always learned that, that’s one of the best ways to pray.
I thanked him for the way he had created my body. I thanked him that it felt so good to touch myself the way I was touching myself at that moment. I thanked him that I could talk to him about anything that I needed to speak about with Him. I thanked him that even when I did not have the answers, which he did have the answers. And oh, did I say how much I thanked him for making my body so amazing. For making my body be able to experience such pleasure?
And as I kept thanking him, and praising him for the beauty of his creation, I had my little worship service right there in my bed. And as I worshiped, I felt something amazing happen. My body was getting more and more sensitive. I could feel myself swelling and getting wetter and wetter. And suddenly, just when I couldn’t take it anymore, I felt an orgasm start to rip through my body. I shook. I grabbed a pillow and stuffed the corner in my mouth so my apartment neighbors wouldn’t hear me scream.
And so it was that that night I had an orgasm while I was praying. It was perhaps one of the strangest things that had ever happened to me. But in that night I knew that God heard my prayer and that he loved my sexuality as much as I did. And that he wasn’t going to leave me suffering through my hormones all by myself.
And that was an exquisite feeling. A comforting feeling. It made me care a whole lot less about being single; that’s for sure.
I can’t say that prayer orgasms ever became a habit of mine. I had a few more during that little period of my life, but not long after that I started dating the man I would eventually marry (which, in case you were wondering, was my dear friend, Rob Walls). After that, I had a living, breathing man to capture my imagination.
But, even now, every once in a blue moon, I find myself praying in bed…and my hand starts to wander…
Haha. It sounds strange doesn’t it? I realize that. And it’s not something I’ve ever really shared with anyone else before, except I think maybe I’ve mentioned something to Walls about it in passing once or twice. And maybe it isn’t something that everyone would feel comfortable with doing. But for me, it was truly one of the most memorable and beautiful sexual experiences of my young life, and I really wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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