OH GOD


Yesterday, one of my coworkers showed me this bill he had. At first look, it looked like it was a million dollar bill. When you looked at it closely, it had a religious message inscribed all along the margins. The message spoke of repentance. It denounced sin, and called for those who love God to reject all sin in their lives. After I read it, my coworker and I had an interesting conversation. I told him that I was suprised to see no mention of redemption in there, no mention that Jesus died on the cross so that our sins would be forgiven. I also mentioned that this seemed more like "the God of the Old Testament", the wrathful God. We talked about sin and forgiveness for a couple of minutes, and I told him my friend Michelle's perpective, which is that God is understanding, like in her case of her reading Harry Potter books, which to some fundamentalists would be considered sinful. However, I also reminded him that Jesus says in the Bible that the way to Heaven is to "love God with all your heart, and all your soul, and love your neighbor as yourself", and if we did that truly, there would be no sin in our hearts. He was laughing about the part on the bill that mentioned that any man who has lusted in his heart has committed adultery, and he was telling me how hard that was for men, basically that they lusted for women so much, that he frequently committed that sin.
I told him how I spend more time each week sinning than I do worshipping God, which was a wakeup call for me. And I confessed I had been sinning on the way to work that morning.
Oh God, I am in trouble.
Of course, I did not mention the part about what sin I was committing in my heart, and who it was directed at. I don't want it to become office gossip. However, this conversation coincided with another completely different topic of conversation that has been going on all week between another friend of mine and I. Maybe someday I will finish the blog piece about this subject, something I am writing about the "sin" that is in my heart. But I just can't help it.
Lord, that boy is fine.
Yep, that's what I said. This man, this sexy man I work with, I cannot help but admire. I have to watch him walk. Like that song abou the honkeydonkbedonkeydonk or whatever, I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave. When he walks past, there is the slowing of my stride, and the turning of the head, and the watching of the ass. Oh man.
So he has become the frequent visitor to my midnight fantasies. I wonder if Michelle's forgiving God understands that, I wonder how much closer to Hell I am getting when I get out my favorite toy, close my eyes, and pretend, imagine that I am dancing the lambada with him, rubbing up against his hard body, kissing his soft mouth, inviting him to my private places. The next day, I have a smile on my face when I see him, the smile holding the secret of the night before, and sometimes it has me feeling an intimacy with him that I don't really possess, and I am afraid I might betray my secret by leaning too close, smiling too much, lingering too much by his side as he works.
So all week I have been telling my friend Pegs about it, because man, I got it bad. I walk past him and get all weak in the knees. I touch my lips and wish my fingers were his mouth. I find excuses to hang out in his area and talk to him.
Only I don't, not really. I think I am going to talk to him, and I think of things to say, but in the end, I can't. I am a married woman. I am not looking to have an affair, am I? What is it that I really want from this?
At the same time, Pegs and I have been discussing the issues in my marriage, and I have been coming to terms with some of them, or making new decisions about how to handle them. I can see that my attraction for this man is really just a factor of my disillusionment with my husband. My longing for him is really a longing for the tenderness and compassion he exhibits with the animals in his care, and a wish to have someone treat me that well.
Then I walk by him again, and the thought comes. "God, he is so hot." And the fever goes straight to my brain and I forget that I am a kept woman, that I am a woman who is not as cute as she used to be, a woman fifty pounds heavier than she was in the days when she could get any man she wanted. The fact that I have a college degree and he can barely write english doesn't stop me from feeling inadequate near him. Nor does it stop me from imagining him and I locked in a naughty lovers' embrace.
And I wonder. What does God think about all of this? I think about how frequently he must hear his name, when in fact people are not addressing him at all. I suppose it is a function of the use of the word "God" in the American slang to mean a sort of a priori "so much". As in "OMG" and "God, look at that". Do you think God gave a pause at the conversation at the beginning of "Baby Got Back" - "Oh My God, Jenny, look at her butt." We use his name in vain so often, and you have to wonder how that affects his listening to prayers. When we pray, especially alone, it usually begins with us addressing him: "God, ....." So how does he differiate between when we are talking to him, or when we are just talking? How does "God, I want him bad" get transmitted differently than "God, I am so sorry I keep sinning. Please help me remain strong against this temptation, and know that I love you above all."? Because I am thinking them both with regularity this week, and it makes me feel...torn...and confused.
As confused as I am about what to do with this lust. In the olden days, myself would walk right up to that man, would flirt, would invite him out. Oh yeah, I was that brand of hussy, the one that asked men out if she wanted them, who made it clear she wanted them, who was bold enough to go after what she wanted. And what is it that I want, exactly? Oh yeah, I want to do him, and I think he is hot.
Really, though, he is not, not in the way society determines hot. There is another man who works here that I am sure most women would term "fine". That man has more of the classic qualities that the majority of women find attractive. I have been talking all week about taking my crush's picture so I can show him to Pegs, but then I thought about what makes him attractive and it is really more of what is on the inside. If you just looked at him, the first thing you might notice is a deep scar or burn running along one side of his face and disappearing into his shirt. Sometimes I wonder how long that scar runs, but oh that just makes me think of him with his shirt off and damn, here comes the lust again. He does wear his clothes well, neatly pressed and tucked in against a strong but fit body. There are these attractive qualities about the way he looks, but it is really the way he acts that makes him so gosh darn sexy. Like the way he kind of tilts his head and smiles when I walk by, a smile that starts on the lips but spreads to the eyes. His eyes shine with a brightness, a tenderness, and I know eyes like that would have to belong to a man who would not hurt me. Those eyes make you feel safe and loved and like everything is right with the world.
Oh God. That is one sexy man. And I am in big trouble.