Jesus, my privates belong to you

There's definitely some trepidation typing out that title. This blog post has been in my queue and the back of my mind for months but even facing it I still don't know exactly how to summarize what this means to me. Yes, I'm a virgin. I've never even kissed. While some of you may applaud or judge or smolder with jealousy let me say first it's not been an easy road. I've still done things I'm not proud of and I've been blessed with a lot of protection for which I cannot take credit. All this still the same I say ...
Jesus, my privates belong to you.
Sakura Cherry Blossoms in Oita, Japan by Zaimoku Woodpile
What does this truly mean to me? It means that even though I struggle with the fear of men (sometimes paralyzing!) and even though I desire to be married (despite the fear of relationship muck!) I am choosing to trust God with my body. One way or the other. God knows the tactile imagination He put inside of me and even though I fear myself sometimes, He knows what He has entrusted me with. I was rearranging my closet the other day and thought to myself "This is the seat of a woman's power." Along with her strength of mind and allure of soul, of course.
It's interesting how I as a woman can feel so vulnerable and inadequate facing my own power.
Does that make any sense? It's like if my body is a sports car that can go from zero to sixty in .73 seconds (and maybe someone else visually) how am I supposed to learn how to drive this thing on the normal sidewalks streets and turn corners slowly and look out for bicycles? And If I don't ever let loose on the highway and feel the power of the crankshaft ... that's ok. That's ok.
  • Ali

    This is so wonderful Meg, thanks for that reminder :)