The Makings of a Personal Celibacy Challenge
Challenge #2: Mrs. Bottle Girl
The last two Saturday nights led to missing church the last two Sunday mornings. I talked and listened. I drank and smoked. I danced and laughed. I hugged and kissed. And most importantly, I lived.
But after all of that, I laid and cried. I questioned and wondered. I called and listened. I regretted and apologized. I felt like someone had died.
When did the woman with common sense sneak off into the darkness? She was here with me at the first glass of champagne. We toasted to life and longevity at least three more times. We were still together as the next set of glasses clinked between the next set of verses. We sat soul to soul until the first shot of hard liquor pierced our connection. The second shot weakened our bond. By the third shot of tequila – or was it vodka?- we were no longer fastened. The lady in me, my better half, walked away and left me like a pig with a diamond ring in its snout… ugly.
Thankfully, I hadn’t become unsightly in the depths of those nights; although, I have starred in that movie too. But, I know the alcohol had tangled my hair, smudged my blush, and adjusted my waistline in a “drunken hot girl” kind of way.
Those that know me might have recognized the change for what it was. But those that don’t know me, saw beauty in my disgrace. They were intoxicated by my intoxication… aroused by my arousal. They praised my dance and savored my kisses. And, they wanted way more. I did too.
I caressed a chest and grazed an ass. I rubbed an ass and smacked an ass.
Then, I heard it…
“Go home and lock your door!”
I heard it clearly, both nights.
Then, I considered this: God wants me to lock my door… and I don’t think he wants me to do it quietly. It’s time to let some things and some people know that they can’t come in… at least not until God says I’m ready.
Cultivating friendships that lead us astray seems like an obvious mistake. Still, we waste time with ideas and spirits who go against our soul. And fail to make time for wise counsel and honest criticism from those who know us best.
Why don’t we make a better effort to treasure our true supporters, the ones who sharpen our edges, as opposed to the ones who, intentionally or not, dull our blades.
I, Mrs. Bottle Girl, might have missed the mark, and been slow to move because of my satiation; but, I didn’t miss the message: I can’t work towards celibacy sitting at a bar in a strip club smoking shisha and sipping champagne.
Yes, I am a self-proclaimed lover of all things bubbly. But, knowing when to say when needs to come a lot sooner than when God SCREAMS, “When!” We must avoid letting the wisdom we pray for float away with every bubble of fun, no matter the shape or size.
So, my challenge this week is a two-part challenge. First, I must minimize my champagne intake. One bottle per evening on Fridays and Saturdays… and only one to two glasses on any given weeknight… no matter the occasion. And no hard liquor – NO MATTER WHAT.
Second, I must pass on all invitations to strip clubs… no matter how much I want the lemon-pepper wings. Pray for me… I’m serious!
Once I get a handle on the number of things I consume, the places I go, and the people with whom I go, I will be back in church every Sunday morning: listening, dancing, kissing, hugging and living the life God says I was born to live eternally as a single hot woman… Celibate until I’m married.