The Gift of Celibacy

Galatians 5:24 -"Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires" Zondervan NIV Study Bible

It might surprise you to know that in some Christian homes, the topic of sex comes up pretty often. When I was in my early teens, my mother brought it up constantly. It was usually an uncomfortable, passionate speech she'd make to her embarrassed young daughter about '"God is always watching" and that it was wrong. If I got anything right out of all of the impromptu warnings of chastity is was that sex was immoral, dirty and most assuredly high on God's list awful things. This did not however, keep me from abstaining from anything. The rebellious curiousity took over sooner or later and I decided to taste what was forbidden fruit. Of course, as is always the case, there were consequences. There always is when we seek to disobey.

Some years later, I got married. When we decided to marry we also decided to wait. This time I would get it right. I was confident that I'd be rewarded for my decision to obey. My fiance and I remained committed and as soon as the last guest left our reception we planned to cash in on what we were missing. I ended my time in the desert with a wonderful man and I slept well knowing I had him by my side and the single life was over. Wrong.

Just shy of 5 years after 'I Do', I buried my husband. The Single Life, Part 2. Now, I was a Widow. This created an interesting problem. As a wife, I was sexually active. Now, I was finding myself dizzy with confusion as to what God expected of me, sexually speaking. I broke the seal. Now what? Was I to be some spiritual eunuch and forsake all of the drives that I would naturally have, suddenly being alone? I read and I read. I read articles on sexuality in the Christian realm from every magazine article I could find on the internet. Some said masturbation was fine, some not. I couldn't even find the word in the bible to reference. Why would God be silent on such a big deal? Was was He so pointed on somethings and not on this? The lack of direction on the one hand made me feel confident that I could approach it with reckless abandon. At times, I felt ashamed to even think about satisifying my urges. Was it because of the endless messages that I received growing up that left me guilty and afraid to give in?

The answer came for me as I was pursuing something else. After a brief and horrendous relationship, early on in my Widowhood, I had come to ask God to reveal Himself to me. I mean, really make Himself known. He did. This encounter with God sparked a great pursuit of wanting to know as much as I could about Him and how He felt about me. I wanted to draw as near as possible. I often thought of Mary Magdalene sitting at His feet just to be near Him. I wanted to take every opportunity to find Him. I became aware of something in the middle of all of this. I didn't have any of the sexual urges I had before. I had been given a gift. The gift of Celibacy.

It would have appeared to me in days past that 'gift' and 'celibacy' didn't belong in the same sentence. I likened it to being put on a water and iceberg lettuce diet. It was about as appetizing and satisfying as far as I was concerned. Now that I had this gift, I wanted to find out what the bible had to say about it. Surely there had to be something? I found a verse that I think speaks to this very topic and answers the question of how did I come to find that this time of my life would be a thing to treasure.

Galatians 5:16 - "So I say, live by the Spirit and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature." Zondervan NIV Study Bible

There is something that needs to be said about gratifying the flesh. Whether we satisfy our cravings of the flesh through smoking, drinking, overeating and also masturbation we are still making a decision to satisfy ourselves and phyiscal desires over our pursuit of God. The key is, to not have to be at war with the urges in the first place. It was very difficult to think of abstention when I was focused on me. I struggled with the right answer because I wanted to scratch my itch. When I became greatly focused on God and following after Him, it wasn't even an issue that came up on my radar.

God, in His grace, rewards us for our devotion. A life fully given to Him, lives to hear and obey the Spirit and doesn't seek after it's own. There is so much peace in being free to pursue God and to fulfill all of the wonderful things He has planned for me without being weighed down by guilty pleasures. I think that is what He wanted for me all along. I get up in the morning excited for my day, looking for what roads He will take me down. I pine not for what I am missing.

Excerpt from Chapter 8 of My Book, 'His Song'

I felt fluttery as I made my way out of the little plane on the tarmac of the tiny airport of Key West. A text message came in as soon as I turned my phone on. I was scrambling to get it to power up and gather my things in a plane no bigger than a walk-in closet. Cases, elbows, sunhats were seemingly tossed in mid air as passengers negotiated each other and their stuff in an effort to disembark. "I think I saw you land". He saw me on his trip to meet me, it was in fact my plane. He would be arriving via bus to the airport to meet me and my stomach was restless as I fussed with my hair and makeup in the mirror in the bite-sized women's room next to the only luggage carousel this Arrivals room had to offer. It was as large as the top floor of a raised ranch home. I was rushing to be ready and presentable as he arrived. The funny thing is, in exactly those kinds of situations if I had a hair and makeup team at my side, I'd never think I looked stunning enough. Being stuffed into a coach seat all day wasn't going to help me find satisfaction with my looks. I gave up mid tussle before I worked myself up into a frenzy.

As I exited the bathroom, the carousel was slowly spinning black suit cases so I lined up along side my plane mates to find mine. It is a miracle that anyone gets their luggage considering most of the free world has only black suit cases. How I haven't mistakenly gone to a hotel on one trip with someone else's clothes is beyond me but I am extra careful to quadruple check tags and stickers before I leave with the case towing behind me. I found mine surprisingly fast and oriented myself to the exit.

I needed to get a cab for us so I was waiting outside near the line for passengers to hail transportation. I was pretending to be entranced by my cell phone and busy on the internet, purposefully not looking up to see him coming. In minutes, I heard his voice. I gazed over as if I was only half interested to see him walking toward me with a lazy, happy grin. He was tanned and casual. His hair was a little windblown which worked for him with sunglasses worn on his face like he was born with them. I didn't know how to approach him. Should I hug him? Kiss him? I quickly made the decision to let him lead. He quietly said hello and leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. "Hi, Ma'am", it seemed to seep out of his mouth like he forgot it was in there. I was comforted by the greeting. My face was starting to twitch from too much smiling. We made our way to the cab line. It stretched for several cars. Mostly bright pink taxis of different shapes and sizes. To me the taxis looked like flamingos waiting in line for a snack from the zookeeper. As we stood in line, we made the usual small talk you have when you greet someone at the airport.

"How was the trip?", he broke the awkward first start of the conversation.

"Good, not too long. Uneventful really".

I always say 'uneventful' when anyone asks me about traveling. I think it just sums it up. Besides, is being in and out of airports all day ever really a good time? We got into our flamingo car and I told the half paying attention driver where we were going. Elizabeth St. I have stayed in bed and breakfasts before, all of them drastically different than each other so while I got the concept, I had no idea what to expect. This one had a pool, I probably wouldn't be in it, but it was there. I was sure it wouldn't be as nice as the one The Chef suggested but that one was unavailable for when I wanted it and also it was the most expensive one on the island. I was a little off put by the suggestion, considering its expense and the fact that The Chef would not be contributing to the room cost either. He had quit his job weeks before on a whim after a dispute with the restaurant owner he was working for. I remember him telling me this over the phone as I was standing on a street corner outside my office building trying to locate my boss who'd be pulling up on the side of the road to take me to a meeting. I was craning my neck down the street to see if I could make out his silver Saab sedan and trying to pay attention to what The Chef was saying as he relayed the chain of events and the conversation he'd had with the restaurant owner earlier that day. He sounded almost giddy.

"We never got along", he said. "She was always on me about things, nothing was ever good enough", he trailed a little but I waited for him to continue. "She told me that I'd need to take a two dollar an hour pay cut and I told her good bye".

"Oh, but what about supporting yourself and your child support?"


He had a daughter from his former marriage that he would often lament about child support over the phone to me and also his torment that he couldn't see her as often as he wanted to. According to him, his ex-wife was a very demanding and unforgiving woman who was unwavering in what she required of him. I felt alighted with fear for him over having to convey this story to her because in my estimation, she'd still want her support or else.

"I can get a job in a matter of days".

There was a hint of condescending in his tone as he went on to assure me that he was well known and also well desired at the restaurants in his area. He didn't give the fact that he was out of work a second thought and neither should I. I was feeling as he was talking that he was being a bit immature in his response to his former boss and quite irresponsible with his finances but then again, I wasn't being affected by it so why was I so concerned? Now I was. The cab pulled up to our bed and breakfast. We both got out of our respected doors and the driver made his way to the trunk to retrieve our bags. As the bags came out, The Chefs hands went into his pockets, and stayed there. I paid our fare and tipped the driver who didn't even look me in the face or speak a word the entire time we were with him, but I always tip. It's just the right and expected thing to do, even if the service is mediocre to terrible. I felt a little slighted by The Chef not even attempting to pay for the cab but then I decided that he probably didn't have much money so I shouldn't expect much in the way of monetary contribution to the weekend. I signed up for it. I knew what I was coming down to.

Emotional Hijacking

Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest -Matthew 11:28

The sound of the dripping from the roof and the dullness of the light in the room as I awoke was a disappointing realization that it was raining outside. I had heard a comment from a friend that it was going to be rainy all weekend but I dismissed the news as only one report and in New England, weather forecasts are more of an opinion than a predictable fact.

With a groaning sigh that she was correct, I turned from one side to another and was greeted by my beaming, tweeting 4 year old, "Good Morning, Mama!"

She brings the sunshine where there is none normally but I was not in the mood to have my disposition changed before coffee. "Good Morning, Honey."

I rolled out and stood up, shuffling to my Keurig to make an emergency cup of coffee. My three cups failed to produce any lift in my personality. I had promised Carli the night before that we'd go out for breakfast so I showered, dressed, got her together and we went to a sweet little local diner for a mouse-shaped pancake. After a year and a half, we finally ate and paid the bill. I was not any better for having to wait so long for a simple morning meal and I was furthered in my downward spiral by the day ahead of errands and house cleaning.

With a huff, I drove us to the grocery store. Normally Carli and I have a great time of grocery shopping. She stands up underneath me on the bottom rack of the cart and hooks her arms around mine. She goes on and on talking to me while we cruise up and down the aisles and she tells me what we need on her list. Today I just wanted to get it done.

My day didn't change much. I had to clean the house and Carli wanted to play and spend time with me. I was irritated. I became further annoyed by my attitude. What was with me? I seemed so intolerant of anything derailing my mission for total house cleanliness. It did finally get done but not without yelling and a low lying headache.

After Carli went to bed, I did my kickboxing workout and headed for the shower. There can be nothing so refreshing as a nice shower after a good sweat. I reflected on my day. My jaw felt tight, my neck stiff. Why was I so tense? Was I angry? No. Lonely? No. Did I feel like I was missing out on something? No. The answer froze me for a moment as the hot water rolled off my back. I was worried.

Worry is the single worst day ruiner there is next to being hungover. I couldn't have told you all day what the problem was but taking out some aggression in punching the air and kicking the wind got my defenses down enough to see it. I am not anxious for anything that is actually going on in my life. There is no crisis, no bad news of any note. I am worried about the future. Worried that I don't have any income coming in, worried about Carli's schooling, worried about my book, worried about my t-shirt business. I have great things going and things that can produce a lot of wealth and an eleviation to my concerns for my daughter's schooling. I have no idea what the future holds but I know one thing, I can do nothing to change it. The future is His to know and His alone. I have to trust that He loves me more than my own mother and His will is stronger than anything that could try to come against me.

In taking on worry, I walked away from the love and trust I have in God. I decided that I needed to handle and figure things out, not give them to Him and trust in His goodness. Since when do I have the power to manipulate all things? Hasn't happened yet. So why worry? I had to say I was sorry. Even if my roof comes off tonight while I sleep, He'll still provide a solution. The only thing I gained was a wasted day of grousing went I could have been making the most of a dreary day with my Little Sunshine.

An Excerpt From Chapter 4 of My Book, 'His Song'

I was startled awake by the sound of my daughter crying as she had just woken from her nap. My excess grogginess and inability to snap to attention told me that we had been sleeping for a long time. I scanned the room for the clock. We had slept three and a half hours! I rallied to my feet and walked down the hallway to Carli's room. I rousted her from her bed and carried her out to the living room. I made my way to the love seat again and as I set her down on her feet I noticed she had a piece of lollipop in her hair from the treat I gave her after church. My sleepy brain was searching for information on sticky lollipop from hair removal instructions. I knew that peanut butter would take gum out but does it do the same for lollipops? As I was looking at the sticky lock of hair I heard a car pull into the driveway. I could see the driveway in full view from my bay window. It was just a police cruiser. I am the last house on my street in my town so turning around in my driveway was a usual occurrence, especially for the police who routinely patrolled my rural street in search of speeders. I turned my attention to the sticky situation my daughter was in briefly when I heard a car door shut. The officer was making his way down my walkway toward my door. I was still unfazed as I let go of Carli's hair and headed to greet him. A pair of officers had shown up unexpectedly at night the week before asking if we had dialed 911, thinking they were in the next town. I had assumed this visit would be a repeat of last week and opened the door with a smile and greeted the officer.

"Are you Brittany Hudson?" the officer asked in a purposeful voice.

"Yes, I am" my tone reflected inquisitiveness.

"May I come in?" he asked, of course also letting me know that not coming in really wasn't an option.

"Of course"

Now my heart was racing. I made my way out of the door way and into my living room. Standing in between my living room and my kitchen island I turned to face him. All I could think of was "What did I do? I was in church all morning!". He faced me and paused for what seems to be a decade. He also put his hand over his gun and for a second I thought I was about to be arrested. Was he really going to arrest me in my own home in front of my toddler? His voice lowered as he remained like a statue with his full attention toward me. He zeroed in like a laser on my face. Now I was scared. What was going on?

"I have some news. It's bad, it's really bad" I could almost barely hear him, he got so quiet.

My mind went to Greg possibly on his way home from Maine. Had he been in a serious accident?

I could only focus on that for a split second when his third sentence came, "Your husband passed away this afternoon" .

I don't think I have the resources to try to describe how those words felt and really be able to bring some justice to the emotions behind them. I felt like an avalanche of snow had just covered my body. My mind sounded like an ocean wave as I reeled and tried to digest the information. I felt like I was going to pass out so I told him I needed to sit down. I made my way to the couch and plunked down. I tried to speak, I had questions but I was so overcome all I could do was wail and sob. I lost fifteen minutes of time. Who was there, what was said or where Carli was, I really don't know. I vaguely remember her standing in the middle of the living room staring at the two of us, having no idea how much her life had just changed since this morning.

My mind broke of its chaos for a moment and I stopped crying. I had to call someone. It occurred to me that I needed someone there. I announced to the officer that I needed to make a phone call and walked over to my kitchen island to get to my cell phone. I really wanted to reach out to someone but my mind had begun racing again and I couldn't focus on a single name or face of anyone I needed to talk to. I instinctively dialed my parents' number. My dad picked up and so did my emotions. I relayed the information to him between sobs and he announced that he would be right over. He didn't even say good bye before he hung up. I was relieved that he was on the way but it would take him an hour to get to me. My mother was much farther away, visiting a friend so I wasn't sure when she'd be arriving so I frantically thought of someone else to call. I needed someone, anyone, to be there with me. I didn't want to be alone. Who was nearby? Who was home? My brain could not complete a thought pattern no matter how hard I tried to focus. I was frustrated by my own inability to think clearly. I dialed my supervisor from work as she lived right down the street but she didn't answer. I looked at the clock and realized it was time for evening services at my church so no one from church would be home. I called my pastor's home anyway and left a message knowing he would call back as soon as he was able. I had to sit tight and wait for my dad to come.

I looked at this poor officer standing frozen in front of my kitchen island. I somberly announced that the only person I could get a hold of was an hour away. He asked if there was anyone else at all that I could reach out to, there wasn't any that I could think of. He radioed to his dispatch from the microphone on his shoulder that he'd be staying until someone arrived to be with me. I was so grateful for his generosity, the idea of sitting by myself was one of the most dreadful and agonizing things I could think of doing. We looked at each other silently for a brief moment and then I spoke.

"Thank you for being here. I really need someone here". I am sure he could hear the desperation in my voice amongst the steady stream of tears.

"This is one of the hardest things there is to do in this job. I've only had to tell a young wife this once before in my sixteen years on the force."

Hearing this made me humanize him. I didn't think of how difficult this must be for him to interrupt a woman and her sweet little toddler on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, to bring information that would shatter her life forever. The weight of it must have been incredible even for the two mile drive from the police station to my home. I took him in. He was less than average height, very dark hair and dark eyes. He had a kind face. He didn't look like he'd been out of the academy more than a few years, let alone sixteen. He informed me that he had a wife and two children of his own and that he only lived a couple of miles from me. The information was comforting even if it seemed a bit random and out of place. He wanted to let me know that he was a real person too, not just a uniform.

"Didn't someone call you?" he asked.

I looked at my cell phone call list and checked for a voicemail but there was nothing there. I also went to my home phone but no calls had come in while I was sleeping and no indication of a message there either.

"No, nothing" I reported. "I've been home all afternoon too".

"Would you want to call me? I now looked at him with my eyebrows raised.

"No" was all he said.

"Me neither" I said. "No one was supposed to call me. You are a God appointment. You were supposed to be here". I held confidence in my voice.

"I can't imagine getting this news over the phone here by yourself" he added. "I am glad I can be here with you".

He turned his mind and attentions to my little girl who had been quiet this whole time and had been fixed on him and his uniform. I had suddenly realized that Carli had been there amongst all this without a peep. Even in her little mind, she must have felt the gravity of the situation.
He smiled down at her brightly and said "Hi there!"

Carli smiled a little but she was confused. I walked around him and picked her up so she could get a better look at him and know that he was "okay". I instructed her to say hello back and the three of us talked about the police and how they help people. I told her that this nice police officer was here to help us and that if she ever needed help to find someone who had clothes on just like him. He also let me know during that time that since the department had known what happened and since I lived in a more remote area of town on a big, secluded plot of land, that they would be spending extra time patrolling the neighborhood and to call if there was any reason that I wanted them there. That was such a blessing to here. I really didn't like being home alone with Carli, even just overnight. It was too quiet. I knew he'd refuse, but I offered him a drink or to sit down. As I thought, he politely declined. He spent a whole hour on his feet waiting for a friend or family member of mine to arrive. I was feeling very indebted to him for that.

As I walked Carli toward the living room to sit down I saw my dad pull up his truck in front of the house. I sighed with relief to see someone that I loved finally come to my rescue. The truck lurched as he quickly came to a stop. Not bothering to walk around my post and rail fence to the walkway he hopped over it and ran to my door which by now I had come to and opened for him. He grabbed me into a big bear hug and he reached the top of the stairs. He practically ran into me, squeezing as he was softly crying and telling me how sorry he was. We embraced for a moment and he gathered himself together emotionally and broke away toward the inside of the house. I followed him in and the police officer who had so dutifully stayed with me once again expressed his condolences and left silently. My dad had asked me what happened but I only had scattered details at that time. I was still awaiting some kind of word from one of his friends that he was away with. What I knew is that he had been found by some passers by on the road. He was face down and his friend's dog was with him. He had been out walking Steve's dog. I knew what that meant. He had had a heart attack.

My heart skipped as I thought of his two friends, Steve and Rick. I imagined what it must have been like to have this all take place while they were away, especially on a weekend away to bond and help each other through some difficult times. I wondered if they didn't want to call or where they afraid to tell me what had happened. I really wanted to hear from them, to tell them it was okay and that I was so sorry they had to go through this. I ached for their pain too. As much as I needed comfort, I wanted to comfort them all the more. I wished I had a number to reach them at to call but I didn't even know what town they were in to call information. I just had to wait until one of them called.