Archives For Sexuality

My roommate walked in the door as I finished typing an email. As she asked me a question, my fingers went into autopilot. I clicked a few words, hit send, and started to answer her when it broke onto my consciousness that I’d tacked “Love you, Shannon” onto an email to one of my professors, a man in his fifties who also attends my church.

“Oh crap!” I burst into the middle of my roommate’s sentence, “I just typed ‘Love you’ to Dr. Zhivago.”¹

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While her diaphragm nearly seized up with laugher, I typed a hasty apology explaining how my roommate came in right as I was finishing the email and how my fingers went into autopilot and how I always sign emails to my family that way. I hit send again and, rubbing my face in disbelief, turned around to finish the conversation.

A shocking response

My roommate and I were still standing in the kitchen, my laptop doing penance on the counter, when his response popped onto the screen.

“Oh my word,” I said to her, “listen to this Continue Reading…

I tear the envelope open and unfold the jury summons. Grumble. The secretary double books my 11:00 appointment. Complain. I feel lonely on a Friday night. Grumble. Complain. Grumble.


Hi, my name is Shannon, and I’m a complainer. 


Nearly ten years ago, I signed myself into rehab with the Holy Spirit. Since then, I’ve made good progress, but still have frequent relapses. No, let me call it straight. I still sin. I rob God of worship when I complain and refuse to acknowledge his goodness. 


2241989981 bb800c8b2a bPhoto courtesy of bored-now via


I find it strange that hardly anyone comments on my complaining, let alone reminds me that it’s a sin. Well, except my mom, and only rarely. Usually, my friends and family (mom included) listen and empathize.

Maybe they’ve forgotten that complaining is a sin. Or, maybe they’ve chosen to extend grace and believe that God works in broken people, too Continue Reading…

I opened the break room door. The smell of fajitas met me, along with a man in scrubs. He stood up and shook my hand—all six feet and four inches of him and looking like someone from People’s Most Beautiful 2015.


One minute, it’s a normal Friday. The next, I’m fully aware of my sexuality. For the rest of the day, every muscle buzzed as if I’d guzzled a gallon of coffee.


Photo 1434210330765 8a00109fc773 Photo courtesy of Lechon Kirb


I realize that we singles aren’t the only ones who have to keep our sex-drives on a leash (see: Celibacy Is No Fun). Married people run into flirty strangers, too, and have to deal with temptation like the rest of us. Still, being single and choosing to defer sexual enjoyment until marriage has its moments (and days) of frustration Continue Reading…

My last neighbor owned a red Dodge Charger that gleamed as bright as his shaved head. He lived below me, and when his lady friends spent the night I wore earplugs. 


In my new apartment, I sleep in peace. Still, sex pops up everywhere—the magazine rack at the grocery store, an episode of Parks and Recreation, or the Victoria Secret catalog jammed in my mailbox. 


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Photo courtesy of Craig Sunter via


American sexuality sings like one of Homer’s sirens. Movies and magazines seduce us into believing that happiness comes from a romp through the sheets, and the prospect of a sexless existence feels like an assaults on our humanity. 


For singles who choose celibacy until marriage, a healthy sex-drive can feel like a curse. Despite what married people say about enjoying singleness and the challenges of marriage, sometimes we just want to have sex Continue Reading…