Walking home, Blair made peace with her decision.
No one was home as the breeze wandered through her hair much like her thoughts. More and more, the tension built. Even now, she thought of prayer after prayer. ‘Why did God make me this way?’
What was even more puzzling was His response, simply, “I love you.”
It started one cool October night. Her family had just gotten cable, and her fingers prodded the remote for basketball. It was getting late, almost time to pray. But she felt the burning again. She’d felt it before, but this time it was different.
She turned the TV off and tried to go to sleep. The first few times, she could fight it and eventually go to sleep. But after a few weeks, every night the fire persisted.
Her hand started to slide down, the sound of it against her body only slightly louder than the sound of her breath on her sheets. Lying facedown, she started to press into her palm against the mattress. The springs squeaked slightly as she started to sigh the pressure away, only to feel guilt rise. She stopped, wondering if she’d gone too far. She quickly moved her hand and wiped the sweat that’d mixed with her tears. Her thoughts swirled.
Years later, she turned on her computer and swarmed Christian message boards. She looked up theology and ethics and saw everyone’s favorite thread. “Is Masturbation a sin?” had over 300 views in one night. After 20 minutes, she debated with herself with what she read. She wanted God to be pleased with her. She wanted to save her body for her husband. She wanted to save it all until her wedding night. But her body said something different.
As she walked to class, she refuted arguments for and against. Someone quoted Genesis 38 and said Onan masturbated, but in her heart, she knew that was wrong. Some responses agreed that her feelings were right but her conviction was wrong. She grew up thinking anything outside of marriage was wrong. Why is scripture silent?! What if masturbation is a way to stay chaste? But, guilt made it feel so wrong. Confused and frustrated, she prayed as it rained outside.
“If my body is beautiful, God, then why does it push me from you?”
“Why won’t you take these feelings from me?” But, she knew her prayer was disingenuous. She liked the feelings, the warmth. But she didn’t want to hurt God or disappoint her mom, and she didn’t like guilt. She didn’t want to hook up. Even more frustrating than a sleepless night was the thought that her actions could break her relationship with God.
He answered, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.”
“But, I feel so dirty… How could this be right? I’m such a failure!”
“No. I love you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made… all of you.”
The wind spoke through her cracked window and lifted her curtain. She didn’t have all the answers yet, but she finally felt a sense of peace.
She felt the heat rise again.
She lay down and imagined she could hear the waves of a lake rising up and down. She could breathe freely as the warmth didn’t suffocate her.
Thinking of the coast, she imagined what a pounding the rocks would take. Her fingers walked hungrily over her, lingering to explore slowly below her bum up to her abs. Her chest rose and fell, her breath beginning to heave as her nipples prickled against her shirt. It had to go.
As she dropped back to the bed, her hands returned to their exploration. Legs bent, her toes pressed into the mattress, her body arching as her breathing picked up. Slowly, then quickly, she pounded.
Harder she pressed as the pressure mounted, her thoughts focused only on her body’s response. The smell of her wetness mixed with the rain-soaked air as her hips rocked back against her bed and up into her hand, the glisten from her fingers now kissing her inner thighs. As her other hand rubbed her chest, she pounded herself, hips thrusting into the air until her legs slinked underneath her. She collapsed as her release ran through her toes. Breathing heavily, she glided her nakedness slowly against the sheets.
Eyes closed, her body eased as she caressed herself, knowing she was fearfully and wonderfully made.
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