Author: Lily

Sex and the Church Guest Post: Can We At Least Begin by Saying the Words?

Today is an exciting today. Today I’m starting a blog series called Sex and the Church. Every Thursday for the next few weeks I’ll be sharing a guest post from someone sharing their experiences with their church and Christian communities’ attitudes towards sex and teachings about sex. These guest posts include personal stories of how churches and communities that have missed the mark, ideas for how the conversation could change, and also examples of churches and communities that have addressed issues of sex and sexuality well. Check out other posts in this series here, here, here, here and here.

I am kicking off this series with a post from my friend Brett “Fish” Anderson. I met Brett via the internets and quickly learned that he is a great friend to have. Not only does he have lots of great stories and insights to share over at his blog, but he’s incredibly encouraging and has a gift for connecting people with each other. He also has a great sense of humor. 🙂 I am honored to have him on my blog and I think this post is a great start to what I hope will be a fantastic and thought-provoking series.

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Brett

‘And behold Jesus did turn to His disciples and these words He did spaketh thus: ‘Thou shalt not be having of the sexual relations before such time as thou has properly engaged in the ceremony of the holy matrimony and been cleaved unto thy wife. Thereafter shalt the sex be heavenly and magical containing sightings of unicorns. And thus it was so.’ [Imaginations 3.16]

Okay, so that is not exactly the message I received from the church growing up, but in many cases it might have well been. With my parents it didn’t go so much better as I came home one day [aged somewhere between 18 and 21] to find that well-known classic ‘What Every Boy Should Know’ sneakily left on my bed for me to stumble upon. At least I hope it was my parents.

The point being that I was pretty much left to:

# school friends [on a school tour in standard five, grade 7, offered a condom and invited to a visit to the girls’ dorm by Wayne, who had failed the grade at least twice and fortunately wasn’t anyone I was trying too hard at the time to impress, added to the fact that I had NO CLUE what a condom was, or probably a girls’ dorm, let’s be honest]

# and the media [which I guess would include the 30 plus year old man in my dad’s church who went into the shop and bought a brown-paper-bagged Playboy magazine and stuck it into my 12 year old hand one day when I went to hang out with him and his friends – who I used to do street evangelism with, of course]

Hm, so not doing so well here. If not my friends or my family, or the local media, then surely the church would be the one to educate me on a topic so centrally focused to my growing teenager years life?

The big problem was, though, that the church was not doing a whole lot of speaking about sex. Except that we shouldn’t do it. Until we got married. And then we should. And then it would be great. But if we did it before it would be horrible and we’d go to hell and burn and be ruined for the rest of our lives. Or something.

Youth group was not doing a whole lot of speaking about sex either. Except that we shouldn’t do it. Until we got married. And then we should. And then it would be great. But if we did it before it would be horrible and we’d go to hell and burn and be ruined for the rest of our lives. Or something.

I got married at age 35. To a beautiful woman whose first boyfriend was me. We were both technically virgins in the not-sticking-certain-things-into-other-things kind of way, but both of us had endured huge struggles with pornography along the way and racked up an impressive account filled with guilt.

And overnight we moved from a message of ‘Sex is dangerous and must be avoided at all costs’ to ‘Sex [in marriage] is the most beautiful thing and must be embraced with passion.’

Talk about messed up. Add to that the general clumsiness, confusion, figure-it-out-yourselves messiness and in some cases physical or emotional pain that is present with first time sex and it made for a very interesting honeymoon. I can’t imagine how well i would have handled that if i’d been 21?

HOW WE DO WE THIS BETTER?

Let me be honest. I don’t know all of the answers here. In fact, maybe very few. I don’t think the answer is free, encouraged and rampant sex before you get married. But i do think that at the very least we need to create spaces where people can ask the questions and be informed and share stories and not feel ashamed, embarrassed or out of touch. We need a church where it’s okay to say the words ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’ [There’s your instant tweet quote for this post]. A sunday preach may not necessarily be the best place for this [although it also might – let’s be open to get creative here].

One of my favourite passages is Hebrews 12.1-2

‘Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame,and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.’

The church through the ages has done its fair share of helping us focus on ‘the sin that so easily entangles’ but not always as well on the ‘everything that hinders’ side of things. When sex has been dressed up as the holy grail of what is not allowed then ‘everything but sex’ and ‘pornography’ are places where christian young people turn to for relief/having their needs met. And that is disastrous.

Maybe it is high time that the church got involved in the area of sex education [a collective gasp goes up around the room] where we get together and figure out a more helpful narrative than ‘Don’t have sex until you’re married. Then do. It’ll be great.’ A place where we can ask the tough questions and wrestle with them together, and invite others into that space of wrestling and not having the answers but desperately trying together to find healthy and helpful paths. Especially for our young people.

With a faith where the focus is on a call towards ‘life and life to the full’ [John 10.10] we need to be doing better in leading the way [and not simply playing ‘survival’ or ‘catch up mode’] when it comes to sexuality and relationships.

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Brett “Fish” Anderson is a 27 year old trapped in the body of a 40 year old man. He is married to the beautiful Val [tbV] and lives in South Africa with the world’s most famous stuffed dolphin [called ‘No_bob’ cos he doesn’t bob]. His passion in life is seeing the church live out what we say we believe and you can find some of his writings, ponderings and deep challenges on his blog Irresistibly Fish

Japan, Adult Diapers, and My Inner Chris Traeger

I don’t usually write these kinds of posts, but while reading Nish Weiseth’s Speak I was reminded of the power of story to impact the lives of others. So this is a story for anyone who is having a bad day, a mediocre day, or just a day where they haven’t laughed enough.

A few weeks ago we were able to travel to Japan for a few days during a Korean national holiday called Chuseok (which is basically their version of Thanksgiving). Although Japan is very close to Korea (the flight to Osaka takes about an hour), we hadn’t had an opportunity to visit yet because we really need at least two days there to make the plane tickets worthwhile and we very rarely have long weekends. So back in May when we found out the dates for Chuseok this year and knew we would have a long weekend at the beginning of September, we went ahead and bought tickets and booked a hostel.

The timing ended up being a little strange because we had actually just returned from our visit to the US and our vacation to Bali (which Jonathan wrote a great post about) the week before and now we were headed back to the airport for another trip (albeit, a very short one)

Our flight left on Sunday. On Friday night, my stomach revolted in what I can only assume was a delayed case of Bali-belly. I had been feeling slightly off all week, but suddenly I felt like I had eaten molten lava. My entire abdomen was on fire. And I swear there was a small man hacking into my back with an ax while giggling gleefully. I spent the better part of the evening in the bathroom, trying not to wail audibly as the evil inside of me clawed its way out. (This experience did make me swear off childbirth for at least the hundredth time).

Finally, things calmed down. I thought, “I ate something bad, but everything seems ok now.” Bless my heart.

Saturday morning I woke up to find that in fact everything was NOT ok. I ate almost nothing on Saturday. In spite of that I managed to make 14 urgent sprints to the toilet (none of which were false alarms). How? How was I possibly generating this material? Was the creature inside of me digesting my own organs?

On Sunday morning I was cautiously optimistic. We had been planning our trip for months and we were NOT going to cancel it so I could stay in the bathroom all break. By this point, I wasn’t feeling super sick…just sort of like all of my insides wanted to be outsides. I figured by this point there was literally no food left in me and I should be good to go.

Just before we walked out the door, something inside of me lurched. I tried to ignore it. We had to take a taxi to the train station and then a train to Busan and then a subway to the airport and then a plane to Osaka and then another train to Kyoto and then another subway to get to our hostel that night. I could not be tied to the bathroom for all of that travel.

I channeled my inner Chris Traeger and tried using the power of positive thinking.

It did not work.

But I was determined. I fashioned a delightful sort of adult diaper for myself and off we went. Problem solved.

Remarkably, I made it all the way to Kyoto with no major incidents. (Maybe my Chris Traeger moment worked after all? I like to think yes.) But sadly, my troubles weren’t over.

The next morning it became clear that if I was going to spend the day touring Kyoto I was going to need some professional help. I reluctantly approached the beautiful Japanese girl working the front desk of our hostel.

“Is there a pharmacy nearby?” I whispered furtively, glancing around at the other travelers in the lobby.

She told me there was. Score. “And do they speak English?”

She told me they did not. But she would happy to write down what I needed in Japanese so I could show it to the pharmacist.

“I seem to have some sort of parasite…” I said euphemistically.

She looked at me blankly. “I don’t think the pharmacy will have something to kill a parasite.”

“Um…yeah…no,” I fumbled. “I…uh…I just need to stop going to the toilet?” I quickly turned my face away and looked at something across the room real casual-like

“Oh,” she said. Then she took out a piece of paper and wrote what I can only assume to be the Japanese word for “diarrhea” which she handed to me politely.

We did find the pharmacy and got the meds, which were effective after a day or so. The best part of this story though is that the paper the girl wrote my symptoms on was the back of a very helpful map that I held up in front of my face for reference as we wandered around looking for the pharmacy.

My best friend assured me that this would be “a very funny story someday.” I hope if you’re reading this and having a not-so-great day, you feel a little cheered up. Because hey, at least you (probably) aren’t wandering around Japan holding a paper in front of her face that just says, “Diarrhea.”

You’re welcome.

What I’m Into: September 2014 Edition

I can’t believe it’s the end of September already, but since it is…it’s time for the monthly round-up. Here is my September contribution to Leigh Kramer’s “What I’m Into” link-up.

What I’m Reading:

At first I thought, “Man, I didn’t read that much this month.” But then I remembered that The Goldfinch was 750-unnecessary-pages long and I gave myself a break.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. Sigh. I don’t really know where to start with this one. It’s not a bad book. There are some really interesting characters and ideas. I just didn’t love it. It was not up to par with what I expect of a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel (It was no Kavalier and Clay). My main beef with this book is that the main character and narrator (Theo Decker) is neither interesting nor sympathetic. Apart from the very beginning where you feel bad for him because of his family situation, he really turns out to be a pretty terrible person, but he’s not even an interesting terrible person. I don’t think all the characters in good literature need to be likeable. But they do have to make me care what happens to them. I did not care about him. Some of the secondary characters, on the other hand, were fascinating. At the end of the book Theo goes into this long tangent where he philosophizes on life in a way that I found really unsatisfying. He ends up saying essentially that life is really difficult and sucky and meaningless but it’s all we have so we should maybe try to find some joy in it. And I just didn’t understand how that was even logical. If life is sucky and meaningless, what possible motivation is there to try to be a good person and find joy? I was pretty frustrated at the end of the book – dissatisfied with both the story itself and the author’s conclusions on life. And it was a lot of pages to read to feel that disappointed.

The Secret Place by Tana French. I love, love, love Tana French. She and Kate Atkinson are my favorite mystery writers, hands-down. This book did not disappoint me. I will say – this was the first of her books that I guessed who the murderer was pretty early on, but I don’t really think it was because it was too obvious. I just had a good gut instinct on this one. The Likeness is still my favorite French book, but I really enjoyed this one.

The Good Luck of Right Now by Matthew Quick. This is the author who wrote Silver Linings Playbook which I LOVE (the book and the movie. The movie is actually one of my very favorites). It’s told in a series of letters that Bartholomew Neil is writing to Richard Gere. Bartholomew is a 38-year-old man with some sort of social/mental impairment that’s unspecified. His mother, whom he’s lived with all of his life, has recently died of brain cancer and he is alone, unemployed, and without any adult friends except for his priest and his therapist. Richard Gere was his mother’s favorite actor and Bartholomew has become fixated on him as a sort of imaginary friend/confidant who helps him get through life. It’s a funny and sad and endearing book Not on the same level as Silver Linings Playbook, but still a good (and fast) read.

Teach Us to Want: Longing, Ambition, and the Life of Faith by Jen Pollock Michel. This is a wonderful book that I am still meditating on. It’s about building a theology of desire. Michel begins by talking about how mistrustful many Christians are of desire and how early in her adulthood she felt that the right thing or the thing God was calling her to do would necessarily be difficult and uncomfortable. In other words, if it was something she genuinely desired then it must not be God’s will. She goes on to suggest that the sign of spiritual maturity is not how well we suppress our own desires, but how much our desires change to reflect God’s desires. Michel uses the Lord’s Prayer as a frame to hang the many facets of desire and to explore what role desire plays in the life of faith. This book is thoughtful and wise and I highly recommend it.

I am currently reading: Julie and Julia by Julie Powell, Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen (as devotional reading), Crazy Love by Francis Chan with my Bible study, and very slowly working through, Good News About Sex and Marriage which is an exploration of the Catholic church’s teachings on marriage and sex by Christopher West. This month I’ve got my eye on Speak by Nish Weiseth and State of Wonder by Ann Patchett (though I’ve been trying to get to that one for a while now). For a more complete list of what I’ve read/am reading follow me on Goodreads or check out my Books I’ve Read page.

According to my Goodreads page I have read 41 books this year. I guess that’s accurate.

What I’m Watching:

I saw Begin Again and Frank in theaters this month. I adored Begin Again. Interestingly enough it is extremely popular in Korea. My Korea coteacher told me she has all the music and listens to it on her way to work and on her way home and before she goes to bed each night. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised since Adam Levine is in the movie and Korea has an inexplicable love for Maroon 5. Frank was weird, which is not necessarily a bad thing for me, but in this case I thought it was interesting but inaccessible. I also watched Philomena which I really loved. Oh Dame Judi Dench. You have done it again.

Before the fall premiers started I was watching Gilmore Girls season 4, the last season I have on DVD, in anticipation of its release to Netflix next month. I also re-visited my love for Ugly Betty and have been watching old episodes of Parks and Recreation with the hubby. Oh, and I’m trying to catch up on Pretty Little Liars but have trouble finding places to watch it. Now that the shows have started up again I will be watching some to all of the following: Parenthood, Nashville, ANTM (Don’t judge), Brooklyn Nine Nine, The Mindy Project (I remind you, Mindy Kaling is my spirit animal), New Girl, Scandal (after we catch up), and who even knows what else.

What I’m Eating:

In July I lost 10 lbs. In August I gained 8. I mean…I accept full responsibility for this. I really don’t have any regrets. But I don’t seem to have quite been able to kick the habit. I blame a lot of that on my discovery of these cookies which literally melt in your mouth. These are definitely my Recipe-of-the-month.

Photo by: The Novice Chef Blog

For more recipes and other happy things, follow me on Pinterest.

What I’m Writing:

Did I mention how excited I was to sort of be this close to Nick Offerman’s face?!

Here on the blog I wrote about my difficult summer and about praying for the grace to believe when I don’t. In response to the print publication of my Relevant article coming out, I re-posted my response blog to my Lies About Sex article. I wrote about what it means to be sensitive to others and still celebrate and mourn in community. And I wrote about Jill Duggar Dillard’s pregnancy announcement and whether or not things need to be public to be celebrated. And last week I wrote about the time I asked my mom to spank me and how I’m learning that grace isn’t really free.

I had an opportunity to submit a freelance piece for Explore God last week (not published anywhere yet) and am looking forward to contributing to Karissa Knox Sorrell’s “Where I Found God” series this month. I will also be hosting my own series on Sex, Purity, and the Church. I am still accepting submissions for this series. If you are interested in writing on this topic you can contact me at lily.e.dunn at gmail.com.

On the Internets:

This has been a good month for the internet.

Ann Voskamp’s “Why Wait Til Marriage” post was just beautiful and great to read at a time that this topic has been a major part of my work.

This re-post of Sarah Bessey’s “Dear Body” is a beautiful celebration of womanhood and extending love and grace to ourselves.

This essay my sister sent me on the art of listening is both interesting and convicting.

Emma Watson’s Kick-Butt speech about the need for male feminists was, well, kick-butt.

This set of graphs that explain so many truths about Gilmore Girls.

This is absolutely hilarious. “Unsatisfied Women in Art History.” But sorry about all the curse words. I guess.

“18 Kinds of People Who Comment on Recipe Blogs.” And this I read this at school and was laughing so hard my face hurt. I don’t know if everyone will find it as funny as I did (probably not) but as someone who does a lot of perusing of recipes online I see this all the time.

Jonathan shared stories and pictures from our trip home and to Bali over at Two Sore Thumbs. Check it out!

What I’ve Been Up To:

Coming off of a rough summer I have been enjoying and embracing fall. Perhaps this has something to do with the ability to cover the 8 lbs I gained in August with fashionably bulky sweaters and stretchy tights, but hey, I’m not proud.

Really though, the fall is always the best season of the year for me emotionally and spiritually and often physically as well. I love the cooler weather, the colors, the smells and the FLAVORS. (I am eagerly awaiting my order of canned pumpkin so I can start making some fall yummies). I’ve started running again and am hoping to do another half marathon in November. So far I’m only up to 6 miles, but I got some awesome new shoes that make me feel like I’m magical, so I think it’s doable if I can just stop eating pizza and cookies all the time.

On Sunday we went hiking which my legs are still punishing me for, but it’s been really nice to be in the sweet spot for outdoor activities again and we want to take advantage of those kinds of things before it gets too cold.

Korean thanksgiving (Chuseok) fell very early this year so we had a 5-day weekend at the beginning of September which we used for a very quick trip to Japan. We were only there for two full days, but we got a quick taste of Kyoto (which is beautiful) and Osaka. We even saw some real-life geisha! (Geisha is the plural of geisha in case you were wondering).

School started up for the fall, which in Korea is just the second semester of the same school year, so there have been no big changes there although I do have a new coteacher since my original one is out on maternity leave. Yesterday she (the new coteacher) said to me, “Today it is raining and I have had many classes. I will need something sweet.” So yeah, I think this relationship is going to work out well.

I’ve also discovered that my right thumb is apparently delicious. I feel like I’ve been missing out for a long time.

Earned Grace – or That Time I Asked My Mom for a Spanking

There’s a story my parents used to tell about me as a child. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I remember where we lived at the time so I had to have been between 7 and 9. The story goes like this – one day, out of the blue, I came to my mom and told her I thought I needed a spanking. She asked why I thought that. Had I done something wrong? (She didn’t know of anything I’d done).

I told her I kept “thinking bad thoughts” and that I thought if I had a spanking they would go away. She was (understandably) a little baffled. But in our family, we were spanked for disobedience or bad attitudes. If I felt something was wrong in my heart, maybe a spanking would help me correct it. She’d never had something like this happen before and, not knowing what else to do, she reluctantly gave me a little spanking. After a few halfhearted licks with the paddle, she asked, “Do you feel better now?” And I told her, “I think I need a few more.”

My parents used to share this story (with my permission) in the Growing Kids God’s Way classes they taught at our church and school when I was in jr. high and high school. I didn’t attend the classes so I’m not sure what the context was for sharing it, but I can safely bet it was part of some discussion on spanking and discipline. At the time we all thought it was a kind of funny story that illustrated how kids know when they are out of control and how they crave discipline to help them gain control again. Also, I sort of liked this story because it made me feel like the best kid ever. What kid asks to be punished for something nobody knows they did? A perfect kid, that’s who! (That’s what I like to believe anyway).

As an adult I have a very different reaction to this story. As a child, I certainly didn’t understand everything I was feeling or what my motivations were. And even as a teenager, I was either not mature enough, or not distanced enough from that event to recognize those feelings. But now, when I remember that story, I cringe. Because I don’t just remember the story or what happened. I remember what it felt like. Now I understand that this was an early manifestation of something I’ve struggled with all of my life – the inability to accept grace without suffering or punishment.

I couldn’t articulate it at the time, but this is what was happening in my mind and heart that day. For some reason, curse words had starting popping into my head. I was a child, so they weren’t really connected to particular situations – I wasn’t thinking them in moments of frustration or anger. I was simply thinking them. A stream of curse words running through my head while I was playing. I knew this was wrong and I felt guilty, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it stop. I apologized to God over and over, but I couldn’t seem to stop doing it.

I didn’t get spanked often growing up. Apart from one year when I was 4 and decided to be a holy terror, I got spanked a few times a year on average. It was the standard discipline in our home for anything that fell under the category of rebellion and I have 3 siblings, so it wasn’t unusual for someone to get spanked, but I was pretty well behaved after that one bad year and didn’t act out very often. I didn’t know whether it was because the result was restored relationship with my parents or because it represented repentance in my heart or simply because of the catharsis of a good cry, but I knew that I felt better after a spanking.

So at this point, I was feeling horrible guilt and shame about all of these curse words in my head. I knew I was doing something wrong. And the only thing I could think of that might make me feel better was a spanking. See, I strongly correlated forgiveness with punishment. In my mind, forgiveness wasn’t just the thing that followed punishment. It was actually produced by punishment. In other words, I did not believe that I could have forgiveness or experience grace unless I had experienced punishment.

Punishment and consequences aren’t the same thing. Consequences are the natural and unchangeable result of a certain actions. Punishment is “suffering, pain, or loss that serves as retribution.” Grace doesn’t remove consequences. It removes guilt and shame. It removes the need for punishment or penance.

What I was doing was trying to use punishment to remove guilt. This is dangerous thinking. This is the child’s version of the “mortification of the flesh” that has led some to self-flagellation. This is believing we have to earn love and forgiveness—either through good actions or through suffering. And that isn’t the story of Christianity.

I want to take a moment to say that I do not blame my parents for this in any way. I firmly believe that if they had understood what was going on inside of me they wouldn’t have spanked me – and they certainly wouldn’t have told the story later. But they were still new in their faith and learning to be parents and certainly there was no textbook answer to this situation. This post isn’t about spanking. I’m not here to debate whether parents should spank their children or not, so please don’t get side-tracked by the details. This is about grace and about my inability to accept it.

The feeling I had that day has come up many times since. I was 17 when I got my driver’s license. I was a nervous driver – always afraid of making a mistake – afraid to be in control of something as powerful as that engine wrapped in steel and glass. I didn’t trust myself with it. Ironically, I got into an accident that totaled my mom’s car the very first day I drove it by myself.

The thing that stood out most to me that day and in the weeks that followed was how NOT angry my parents were. I wanted them to yell at me, to tell me they were disappointed, to punish me in some way. Instead they were just happy that I was OK. They knew I wasn’t being careless, I was just inexperienced and I had an accident. I didn’t need correction or discipline. I needed more confidence.

But I was plagued with guilt – the kind of guilt that makes you feel sick in the pit of your stomach. No one was making me feel bad or holding it over my head, but I was filled with an overwhelming sense of shame. I had screwed up and I had a hard accepting that I was completely forgiven and unconditionally loved.

Why is it so hard to accept grace? And why is it so much easier to extend grace to others than to ourselves?

Now that I’m an adult, I understand this part of myself. I see it in my marriage. When I really mess up, my husband forgives me and moves on like it never happened. And I catch myself thinking “I’ll make his favorite dinner and do all the chores this weekend and I won’t ask him to help with anything, and I’ll iron those shirts I keep forgetting about, and I’ll wear the sexy undies even though they are really uncomfortable, and I’ll give him a lot of compliments.” Of course, these can be great ways to show love to my husband. But not when I’m doing them as self-inflicted penance.

I can’t seem to wrap my mind around a grace that is unearned or forgiveness that comes punishment-free. Believe me, I’ve spent a lot of time trying. But I had a moment of epiphany recently. Maybe I can’t wrap my mind around it because I’m not supposed to.

Maybe I am not supposed to understand unearned grace because grace didn’t come free. Grace came at the price of Love’s only son, stretched out on a tree. Maybe I’m not supposed to embrace a forgiveness that comes without suffering because Love did suffer.

Maybe my problem isn’t that I think grace and forgiveness cost something. Maybe my problem is accepting who it cost. Maybe my problem is that I can’t wrap my mind around, “It is finished.”

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“Because the sinless savior died

My sinful soul was counted free

For God the just was satisfied

To look on Him and pardon me.”

My sister sang this song at our wedding. I wish I had a recording of her singing it to share, but I really like this arrangement too.

Does It Have to Be Public to be Real? Social Media And Authentic Community

Recently Jill Duggar brought down public speculation when she announced her pregnancy a mere two months after her wedding to Derick Dillard . She defended the purity of her relationship and their decision to announce their pregnancy at only eight weeks, saying, “Understanding that the majority of miscarriages happen within the first trimester, and believing that every life is precious no matter how young, we decided to share our joyful news as soon as we could.” Pro-life conservatives raved.

Photo credit: jezebel.com

Reading this story brought up two issues for me. First, her defense of her early announcement (and conservative reactions to it) implies that the reason others might choose to wait to make a public announcement of a pregnancy is because they don’t value the life of the child until they are past the stage where miscarriage most commonly occurs. For most people, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Many people choose not to publicly announce a pregnancy early on because they greatly value that life and having to share the grief of losing that life so publicly if something were to happen would be unbearably painful.

My other problem is something I touched on in my last blog post. I am uncomfortable with the implication that unless something is public knowledge, it isn’t being celebrated – at least not properly. Pro-life conservatives applaud Jill for making a statement about the value of human life from the moment of conception, but my question is why does all of America have to know about it for it to be valued?

In our technology-dependent world I wonder if we’ve come to rely too heavily on the response of others for affirmation of our own emotions and experiences. Many of us act like nothing we think or feel is valid unless someone else says it too or at very least acknowledges and affirms what we’ve said. I’m not saying this from a lofty place of judgment. I am a blogger. I want people to read what I write and validate me too. It’s because I see this in myself that I want to bring attention to it.

I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong to share news on social media – to celebrate important moments in our lives or to seek encouragement in times of struggle. I just want to push back against the attitude I see subtly taking hold at times – even in myself- that real celebration can only happen in the public sphere.

I think there is something important about sharing God’s work with the people in our lives. I just don’t think that has to take the form of a public announcement. There are many benefits to social media and I don’t think it’s bad or wrong to participate in. The problem comes when we make social media a false substitute for authentic community. We deceive ourselves into thinking these people on Facebook and Twitter are our community, when, largely they are people who really haven’t earned the right to access our intimate thoughts and feelings. (And whom we haven’t earned the right to demand that they care about our intimate thoughts and feelings).

After reading my last post, the friend I wrote about in it sent me these thoughts. I had already written this post before she sent this and I loved how she put a lot of what I have been trying to say:

“Here’s the story: I’m not a super thoughtful, loving person. In fact, the main reason I did what I did was to avoid being a terrible hypocrite. After trying for a few months to get pregnant, we were told in December I have PCOS, a hormonal condition that makes it very difficult to get pregnant along with a host of other discouraging symptoms. Miraculously, we got pregnant that same month, only to lose the baby in February. Meanwhile, all our friends announced pregnancy or popped out kids. I was consumed by grief, but even more by envy. I unfriended or unfollowed people who I previously counted as good friends. And at least publicly, I suffered silently.

So after countless doctor’s visits and fertility treatments when I finally got pregnant again and we managed to make it to the 12 week mark, how could I plaster my Facebook page with indiscriminate joy? I imagined myself reading my own page and crying herself to sleep every night, feeling that she’ll never be a mother. I couldn’t do that in good conscience, considering the miracle God had given me with this second baby.

My experience made me realize that Facebook is not a good place to share either joy or grief with other Christians. I don’t think the verses about mourning and rejoicing together refers to social media, I think it refers to real live relationships with other Christians. I poured out my grief and my joy in heaps on my closest Christian friends in all sorts of life situations, and all of them mourned and rejoiced with me. But Facebook is too contrived, too easy to manufacture. Not only that, but I never mourned on Facebook. I never announced my miscarriage. I never let social media see the reality of my suffering. So it feels very imbalanced, and very contrived, to ask Facebook to rejoice with me. Besides, only my friends and family who walked with me through my grief can fully celebrate with me in my joy. In just that handful of people I’ve received more than enough validation; I just don’t need any more from social media.

Because really, are we looking for rejoicing and mourning with other Christians on a deep level when we post a status? Or are we just looking for the superficial validation of popularity represented by a number of likes?

I made an Instagram account solely for the purpose of sharing pregnancy updates for those who DO want to rejoice with me in that way. Also I send my mom, my sister in law, and a few of my best friends pictures of me in maternity clothes, weird craving updates, and ultrasound pictures nearly every other day. Even people who weren’t suffering would unfriend me out of annoyance if I thought it was appropriate to put all that on Facebook. so not posting all that to Facebook doesn’t not equal not going crazy with joy in a community, mine is just a select community of those who don’t mind and understand the crazy.

I think [the problem] comes from this expectation to treat Facebook like a community, when really it’s more like a bulletin board. I’m sharing my pregnancy joy with my community, but not on Facebook, because the two are not synonymous. We should not feel shame about sharing either joy or sorrow with a community we trust, but Facebook is not a community. For people in our generation, sometimes it can be difficult to understand the difference.”

I thought her words expressed what I was feeling beautifully. I’m continuing to work through the question of how to balance rejoicing and mourning with others with sensitivity and compassion. I am finding that in my life that also means asking the question of who truly is my community and what role the internet and social media should play as I seek to live out that question with authenticity.

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*As a disclaimer – I have nothing against Jill Duggar Dillard and I certainly think she and her husband are entitled to their own decision about what information to share and when. I really don’t have an opinion on whether she should or should not have announced her pregnancy so early. I don’t think it’s anyone’s business. My beef was purely with the responses I saw to her reasons. I also think as someone who spent a lot of time in the public eye while growing up, Jill’s perspective on public and private information is probably different than many people’s.

Rejoice with Those Who Rejoice: When “Sensitivity” Robs us of Holy Celebration

Recently a Facebook friend of mine announced her pregnancy online. Like many similar Facebook announcements, this one was accompanied by a picture of teensy baby shoes and a due date, but the thing that stood out was a comment she made after the announcement. She explained that following this announcement, she wouldn’t be posting pictures and pregnancy updates on Facebook out of sensitivity to friends who were struggling with infertility, miscarriage, or who were single but longing for a family.

My initial reaction to this was, “That’s incredibly thoughtful.” There are many people for whom social media has become an overwhelming bombardment of people who all seem to have the things they most desperately desire. In particular, I have heard from women struggling to get pregnant or who have experienced miscarriages who find the pain of getting on Facebook and reading other people’s pregnancy announcements and updates unbearable at times.

At first I was touched by this woman’s sensitivity – that even in a moment of great personal joy she would be thinking of others. I thought, “I want to be a woman who loves others like that.” But then I started to wonder – how far do we take this kind of sensitivity? Will the pain of those struggling with infertility go away once that baby is born? Unfortunately, probably not. Will that mean this woman is then obligated not to post pictures of her newborn or of her children as they grow? Is there a point at which well-intentioned sensitivity to others robs us of the experience of holy celebration?

Before I go any further, I want to make it clear that I’m not criticizing this woman and her decision. In fact, I deeply respect her decision and admire her thoughtfulness. I don’t know her situation – she may have specific friends or family members in mind whom she is loving truly and well through these actions. The only reason I bring up her announcement is because it served as a catalyst for me to think about two different issues. First, what is the balance between celebration and sensitivity? And second, what is the role of social media and other public platforms in our celebrations?

Today I’m going to focus on that first question. I’ll address the second one in my next post.

A few months ago Christianity Today published an article by D.L. Mayfield about whether or not Christians should drink alcohol. Her major argument was that out of solidarity with those who struggle with alcoholism, Christians should abstain. Christians should follow the Apostle Paul’s direction in Romans 14:21 “It is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that causes your brother to stumble.” She calls out a trend among young, hipster Christians to use alcohol as a symbol of our liberation from fundamentalist traditions and calls for greater compassion towards those trapped in alcoholism by refusing to celebrate something that holds many in bondage.

Some of her points really resonated with me, but I also felt myself pushing back a little. Not so much with the alcohol issue*, but with the way I’ve seen people adopt this attitude – compassion and sensitivity towards those who struggle with something – as a primary value in their lives. If sensitivity and compassion are our primary values then we have to abstain from celebrating anything that might cause someone else pain or discomfort. This would mean not posting a picture of a great meal because someone might be struggling with their weight (or in solidarity with the many people who don’t have enough food). Or not celebrating a promotion at work because someone might not have a job. Or not posting a picture of your first home because others can’t afford one. Or not celebrating getting your PhD because others failed out of college.

There will always be people struggling. There will always be someone who doesn’t have what you have. There will always be someone who is triggered or tempted by something that is an innocent pleasure for you. If you have a relationship with someone and part of loving them is being sensitive to their vulnerabilities, then by all means, show love and grace by avoiding alcohol or by not emailing them your ultrasound pictures, or not bringing up how well you did on your SATs. We are called to love others more than we love ourselves and this may be part of how we love well. But if your motivation is a general concern that you might maybe offend someone or that someone might be hurt that you are experiencing something great and they aren’t, then I think you are robbing yourself of holy celebration.

It’s true, the Bible says to “Mourn with those who mourn,” but FIRST it says, “Rejoice with those who rejoice.” (Rom. 12:15) I think there is something important about sharing our joy with others – about celebrating God’s goodness in community. I think there is a way for us to rejoice, to celebrate, with both joy and compassion.

I don’t have this figured out, but I think one important part of this is our attitude when we share good news. Are we rejoicing in the unmerited gifts of God, or are we boasting? Do we celebrate with gratitude or do we take for granted blessings that others may not be experiencing? I think it’s much more problematic when we ignore or even complain about the blessings we have than it is when we celebrate the gifts in our lives.

For example, I don’t think it’s wrong to rejoice in a pregnancy on Facebook, but it might be wrong to complain about morning sickness or about how huge your stomach is on Facebook when there are many women reading that who would give anything to be feeling those things. Or here’s an example from my own life. Once I was complaining to a single friend that the problem with us waiting to start a family was that there was no guarantee it would be easy when we felt ready and maybe by the time we were stable enough for kids I would be too old, etc. My friend very gently told me, “It really bothers me when you say things like that. I also want a family and worry about waiting too long, but I don’t have a husband like you do. If you are that worried about it, you could start trying at any time. I don’t even know for sure I’ll get the chance.” Ouch.

She was right and I was convicted of my insensitivity and ungratefulness. The problem in both of these examples is insensitivity, but it’s the result of taking for granted the blessings in our lives instead of viewing them as unearned, lavish gifts.

I’m still mulling this one over. How do we celebrate with compassion and love for those who aren’t celebrating? How do we enter into others’ pain and loss without denying ourselves these sacred celebrations? And on the other side of that, how do we rejoice with those who rejoice when we feel like mourning? I would love your thoughts.

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*I have close family members who are alcoholics. I admit that alcohol is a unique struggle in that, unlike greed or gluttony or a shopping addiction, alcohol has a large potential to physically hurt the alcoholic and other innocent people – drunk drivers, domestic abuse, neglect, etc. So while it isn’t “worse” than other sins or harmful behaviors, the consequences can be more serious and far-reaching. Additionally, the verse in Romans is talking about “not causing a brother to stumble”, not “not causing a brother to be uncomfortable or jealous” and I recognize the distinction.

The Morning After: Things You Learn When Half a Million People Read About Your Sex Life

In light of my 4 Lies About Sex article being re-printed in Relevant’s print magazine this week, I am re-blogging this response for those visiting my blog for the first time after reading the article in print. Thanks for visiting!

Lily Ellyn

Three days ago I had an article published by Relevant magazine online. I had submitted the article a few weeks before and knew it was coming out sometime this week, but didn’t know when. I was excited to have something published at Relevant, but nervous because of the highly personal content. I hoped my words would be meaningful for others who had had similar experiences and felt alone in them. I was also excited for an opportunity to potentially gain a few more blog readers and make some new friends. I expected a few thousand people to read it. I figured some people would identify with it and others wouldn’t. I was not prepared for 60,000 shares and half a million people to read and comment and debate and argue and praise and judge my very personal story.

Here’s how Wednesday went down for me:

Wednesday, June 11th

6am –…

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The Summer of Unbelief

It rained almost every day this summer –not the brief and angry afternoon storms of my childhood, but in intermittent streams all day long, like someone turning a faucet on and off. The honey-golden days of June and July were swallowed by a colorless sky and air so thick and sticky that walking to work in the mornings felt like wading through molasses. The barometric pressure swelled every day, the pressure inside my head building with it, straining for equilibrium, my nose and eye sockets and temples pulsing with pain like I’d been punched in the face. Sometimes I felt like the summer had been one long headache, though in fairness, I suppose it could have partly been from all the crying.

April and May and the beginning of June were an emerald green haze of hope. I felt energized, excited about the future, and more open to God and to life than I had in a long time. We made the decision to stay in Korea, the cherry blossoms were scattering beauty everywhere and my parents came all the way from America to visit. I joined a Bible study and Husband and I started meeting with our friends each week for “church.” I was running again, my writing was gaining momentum, and I felt like I could see God’s fingerprints everywhere I looked.

When the summer came those fingers I’d imagined sweetly leaving their mark on the world turned into fists that pounded me so relentlessly I was sure that if I looked closely I’d actually see bruises blooming purple under my skin.

Some blows were truly big and terrifying things, like cancer and ISIS and planes falling from the sky. Some were only personal tragedies – losing our cat and saying forever goodbyes to friends moving away, moments of disconnect and frustration. And some were simply annoyances—a broken computer, a busted kindle screen, a new shirt that shrunk in the wash—but piled on top of the big things they felt like a conspiracy to suck all the goodness out of life.

I have prayed more and harder over these past few months than any other time I can remember. In the middle of the night when I have lain awake, exhausted but unable to sleep, I have begged God for mercy – for the world, for my loved ones, for myself. But I always woke in the morning feeling alone and unheard.

Part of me was angry. Because even though this goes against everything I believe, some subconscious piece of me felt cheated. Like I’d been faithfully holding up my end of the bargain and God had let me down.* And another, larger part of me was simply bone-weary.

Husband says these are the moments that draw him into God, make him see his own need. I suppose that’s what the people who suffer so beautifully through great tragedies experience. They are drawn to God in their pain.

I’m not one of those people.

When it seems like the darkness is winning and God feels utterly disinterested, I lose heart. And I lose faith –not in God exactly, but certainly in God’s goodness.

See, I’ve never really questioned the existence of God. My Big Question isn’t if God exists, it’s “Is He good?” And even if He is good, how can I know that he is really involved in the world in any significant way?

I know, I know. Oh me of little faith. But the problem is that you put your faith in the one you trust. And it would seem that I am not to-my-bones and in-my-belly convinced that I can trust God’s goodness. When I see the vast power of the ocean or the way the mists roll over the mountains in the morning, or when I see ordinary, messy people made beautful, I see God’s work in the world and I believe that God is good and maybe even that he cares about me. But when the ugly bits of life break in and I beg for grace and rescue that doesn’t seem to come, I waver. Is God still good here? Now? Or (maybe worse) is He good and simply not interested?

I don’t believe God has promised us an easy life. He has simply promised to be with us. To give us Himself. But sometimes He doesn’t seem to be doing that either.

My wise friend Julie said to me “Maybe God is asking, ‘Will you still trust me now?’”

If He is, I’d like to be able to answer His question with a grumbly, big-sigh, reluctant, “Yes.” But the truth is that I don’t know. I just don’t know.

The summer is ending and I am running out of tears and out of prayers. All I am left with are the words of the father in the gospels whose name we’ll never know: **

“Help my unbelief!”

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*Which, of course, isn’t Christianity at all. It’s karma. But that’s another story for another day.
**The man in Mark 9 whose son has an evil spirit.

What I’m Into: August 2014 Edition

The month of August has been a whirlwind of experiences and emotions involving more transportation than I think I’ve ever crammed into such a short time (10 flights in 19 days, two of which were 12-14 hours long). As of last night I am back in Korea. I have one more short trip scheduled for September 7-10 and after that I’ll be settling in for a much more normal routine, hopefully including more regular blog posts.

It feels appropriate to pick up blogging again with my monthly re-cap of What I’m Into. As usual, I am linking up with Leigh Kramer for this post. I like to read through posts by other bloggers from this link up for ideas of new things to read, watch, listen to, make, think, and do. If you like that kind of thing be sure to check out some of the other bloggers on her link-up.

This Month in Numbers:

75,000 (at least) calories eaten

25,000 miles traveled

600 pictures taken

15 times I cried this month (I’ve been feeling a lot of feelings. And hey, only 3 of those were ugly crying).

11 American restaurants visited

10 flights taken

8 lbs gained

7 movies watched

6.25 books read

5 countries traveled through

4 days without luggage

4 trips to Target, just to bask in its glow

2 monkeys that sat on me

What I’m Reading:

I admit, my reading this month was a little all over the place, from really light fluffy books to spiritual memoirs to investigative non-fiction. But that’s the beauty of books, really. There’s something for everyone. (Or in my case, something for each of my personalities).

Three Wishes, Liane Moriarty. Like other books I’ve read by this author, this book was a perfect relaxing read. Part domestic drama and part romance – easy reading but with more complex characters than many beach-reads and a plot that was a little predictable without being stupid. Also, this book is about a set of adult triplets, two of whom are identical and one who isn’t. I actually know someone who is part of a set of triplets like that and I’ve always thought that dynamic was unique and interesting.

Attachments, Rainbow Rowell. During last month’s What I’m Into link-up people kept mentioning Rainbow Rowell so when I saw this book on sale for kindle I decided to try it. Told mostly through email correspondence, this book was light, easy, and feel-good. You could almost read it in one sitting. There was nothing particularly compelling about it, but it was sweet.

A Year of Biblical Womanhood, Rachel Held Evans. Somehow, I had never gotten around to reading this book in its entirety even though I read a lot of Rachel’s other writing and have read excerpts of it. I’m glad I finally read it. It was interesting, funny, thought-provoking, and informative all at once. Each month Rachel tackled one biblical virtue for women and tried to observe it as strictly as possible. She also interviewed women of different faith backgrounds for perspective (an orthodox Jew, an Amish woman, a family who practices what they believe to be “biblical marriage” through polygamy). While Rachel is well-known for being an outspoken feminist, this book is a very honest and gracious exploration of the nebulous concept of biblical womanhood and, I found, a very fair consideration of various points of view on the subject. I was particularly moved by the chapter that explored the iconic Proverbs 31 woman, evangelical saint of womanhood, and learned how in the Jewish tradition it is the men who learn this poem in order to recite or sing it to their wives as a blessing.

Love Does, Bob Goff. Goff has a lot of great stories. And I absolutely love the core message of this book – that real love is active. That we shouldn’t be afraid to take risks and live a big, loud life loving others. That we shouldn’t let the constraints of others’ expectations or even, sometimes, practicality, keep us from dreaming God-sized dreams. But, Goff doesn’t address the fact that many of his stories of jet-setting around the world at a moment’s notice are only possible because he has a stable, well-paid job as an attorney and has both the finances and flexibility to do these things. I find Goff’s spirit infectious and inspiring, but this is not the first time I’ve closed a book like this frustrated, wishing the author would at least acknowledge that their circumstances aren’t universal. I want someone to tell me what it looks like to live that kind of life when you work a regular job making 25k with two weeks of vacation time a year. Because that is reality for most of us.

Freefall to Fly, Rebekah Lyons. I wanted to like this book. I really did. I deeply respect the author’s honesty in talking about her struggle with severe anxiety and panic attacks in the midst of trying to do ministry in a new city and raising young children. My problem was that I just couldn’t really understand what she was saying changed for her. I know this kind of book requires extraordinary vulnerability, but I felt that she talked around her issues rather than naming them directly and this made it very hard for me to understand what it was that changed in her life and brought transformation.

The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan. This book follows the food chain from one end to the other for four different meals. The industrial food chain which produces the McDonald’s chicken nugget (which, you will learn, is largely composed of corn, rather than chicken). The industrial organic food chain where grass-fed beef and non-chemical fertilizers and pesticides are used to mass-produce organic food for places like Whole Foods. The local organic food chain where all of the food is raised locally using sustainable practices and intentionally not traveling far from where it was produced. And finally a meal from a forager’s food chain where all of the food was personally grown or collected by the consumer. This book was fascinating and enlightening and convicting and will certainly challenge you to think about where you food is coming from and what you are putting into your body from an ethical standpoint more than a health one. I genuinely think this book will impact my food choices in the future. (After Korea of course. Because frankly right now I feel good about myself if I get home from the store with anything resembling what I was looking for).

I’m currently a quarter of the way through The Goldfinch, so look for my quick review of that next month. While visiting home I picked up a few physical books I already owned but had had to leave behind so those are next up for me though I’m not sure what order I’ll read them in yet. Those books include Ann Patchett’s State of Wonder, Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer, I am also eagerly awaiting tomorrow’s release of Tana French’s new book, The Secret Place. I am a huge fan of hers.

What I’m Watching:

Besides racing through episodes of Veronica Mars, and (embarrassingly) all of Lipstick Jungle, all that flying meant lots of opportunities to watch movies. Before the trip we saw Guardians of the Galaxy which I enjoyed, but probably not quite as much as my husband who saw it two days in a row. On various planes I saw the Veronica Mars movie, Rio 2, and The Other Woman (Which I mostly slept through). I also re-watched Divergent and part of The Amazing Spiderman 2, and some episodes of Big Bang Theory. In America I went to the movie theater twice, once to see The 100 Foot Journey (which I ADORED – a movie about food, set in France. Recipe for perfection.) And I saw Daniel Radcliffe’s new rom-com What if? which I also loved because it was feel-good, but also quirky and endearing, which are my favorite kinds of light movies. In Bali I was able to buy a copy of the Fault in Our Stars which I watched last night and which resulted in the 3rd of my ugly-cries this month in spite of having read the book and knowing the ending. I loved the book and the movie was a good representation.

What I’m Eating:

Besides the copious amounts of restaurant food we ate in America (Bloomin’ Onion from Outback, Chili’s southwest eggrolls, Chipotle burritos, and an extravagant, delicious steak dinner with my family) we also got to eat some amazing Indonesian food while in Bali.

At home I baked two cakes, one was this lemonade cake that became a favorite of mine a few years ago.

Image from: cookinglight.com Click photo for recipe!

The other was the absolute best carrot cake in the world from my mom’s recipe.

I also had at least 7 different kinds of ice cream. I tried to rank them for you, but it was impossible. So I will just list them. If you have an opportunity to eat any of these, do it!

Graeter’s Black Raspberry Chocolate chip
Graeter’s Coconut Chocolate Chip
Haagen Dazs Caramel Cone
Bluebell Magic Cookie Bar
Bluebell Red Velvet Cake
Bluebell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
Ben and Jerry’s Salted Caramel Core

Are you drooling yet?

You can follow me on Pinterest for other things I’m cooking/eating.

What I’m Writing:

This has been a quiet month on the blog though I did have the opportunity to celebrate the birth of our dear friends Josh and Laura’s daughter, Genevieve, in this post. And I asked for you to share your stories of how the church talks about sex here. I am planning to curate a series of guest posts on this topic, so if you are interested in contributing, please let me know! (lily.e.dunn at gmail.com)

Supposedly, a slightly revised version of my 4 Lies the Church Taught Me About Sex article was reprinted in the newest edition of Relevant’s in-print magazine, though I haven’t actually seen it. But hey, somewhere my name is theoretically in print!

I’m working on an article for Explore God though I’m not sure in what capacity it will be used and I have a few guest posts set up for this fall. By the beginning of August I was beginning to hit a wall with writing, feeling drained and tired and stuck with the projects I was already working on, but I’m hopeful that the combination of time away and the coming fall weather will rejuvenate me.

What I’ve been up to:

Our grand adventure included 5 days visiting my family.

My family at our fancy dinner. Aren’t they really, really ridiculously good-looking?

Five days visiting Jonathan’s family, during which my best friend flew out to Ohio to see us.

I don’t always make this face… but when I do it’s because I’m with Christina.

And an amazing few days in Bali where we got to see some beautiful parts of this glorious world, stay in a gorgeous villa (that was cheaper than a Motel 6), drink coffee that was once civet cat poop, and also hold this monkey.

Entrance to our villa. It was like being a queen.

Sunset at Tanah Lot

Just chllin’ like a villain with our boy Marcus. (I feel certain that’s his name).

We’ll be sure to get a full post with a lot more pictures up soon over at Two Sore Thumbs!

Tag, You’re It! (I Want to Hear Your Story)

The last few weeks have felt like swimming through fog. Since the beginning of July I’ve felt like I was just trying to get by, just trying to push through my days as quickly as possible until our trip back the the US on August 12th. We all need a break from our routine and from our work now and then, and in my case, I also need a break from living in another culture. I need a few weeks where I can relax the part of my brain that’s always on the alert, trying to figure out what’s going on. A few weeks where everything is just easy.

This last week has been a perfect storm of emotions, both good and bad – the stress and then relief of finishing up my English camps, the sadness of saying good-bye to friends who are leaving Korea permanently, the incredible joy of welcoming our dear friends’ daughter into the world, the helplessness and distress we’ve felt learning that one of our indoor cats has gotten out and is missing, and of course all of the planning and excitement and stress of preparing for our trip. As someone who feels all the feels, I am reaching the point of complete emotional exhaustion.

We leave Korea tomorrow morning and, after a series of long flights and layovers, will arrive at my parents’ home in Louisiana where we will spend 5 days before heading on to my in-laws in Ohio. We are very much looking forward to seeing our families and enjoying the familiarity of home. We are also interested to see how living abroad for a year has changed our perspective on home – will we remember how to drive? Will we bow to greet people on accident? After Ohio we will fly back to this part of the world where we’ll spend a few days exploring Bali before settling in for a new semester of teaching.

(I know, I know, that sounds incredibly extravagant and exotic, and of course, I feel very blessed to have this opportunity, but before you give me the stink eye, keep in mind that Indonesia is quite close to Korea, and the entire country of Korea is the size of Indiana, so from here it’s more of an ordinary vacation spot, like living in the Midwest and going on vacation to Florida. Also remember that I did not complain (much) when you put up your pictures from all over Europe and the Caribbean while I was teaching school ALL SUMMER LONG).

With all of the upcoming travel I will likely be away from the blog for the next few weeks, but in the meantime I am hoping to hear from some of you. I am working on a new project related to my recent work on purity culture, saving sex for marriage, and the way the church handles pre and post-marital sex. I am collecting stories. Specifically, I want to hear about your experiences in your churches and faith communities – what you were taught about sex and abstinence (as many specific examples as you can remember), and- if it applies to you-how that positively or negatively affected your understanding and expectations of sex and sexuality in marriage. I will ask permission before using any information you share with me and am happy to change your name if you are uncomfortable using your own.

You can leave a comment here, link to a blog post you may have written on this topic, or send an email to lily.e.dunn at gmail.com. I can also provide a questionnaire with specific questions to answer if that would be easier. Looking forward to hearing from some of you!

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