This post is a collaboration with the wonderful David Hayward (aka Naked Pastor) in response to an article in Relevant Magazine, Christians Are Not Called to Have Amazing Sex. This quote in particular sparked some discussion:
As with other trials, bad sex is an opportunity to rejoice in suffering (1 Peter 4:13) and to be further conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29).
You can also read this story over at my fiction blog, and you can see the same version of David’s cartoon that appears here at his site.
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Suffering Servants
Terrie was exhausted. It had been a long day at work, and all she wanted was to put on her pajamas and curl up in bed with the covers over her head. She climbed the stairs slowly, already removing her confining business attire as she went.
Inside the bedroom, she finished undressing and donned a pair of soft, gray pants and an old t-shirt. With a groan, she flopped face-down on top of the covers. She was even too tired to turn back the sheets and comforter.
Meanwhile, Bill was busy finishing a report he needed to email before midnight. He hit send, then leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. He tilted his head to one side and then the other, working out the kinks. At last he stood up.
He’d heard Terrie heading to bed five or ten minutes before, after a quick kiss and a glass of water. He, too, was exhausted. He was glad it was almost the weekend. They could both use some rest. Not for the first time he considered updating his resume.
Bill followed Terrie up to their bedroom. He smiled at her prone form on the bed, her hair partially covering her face. He pulled off his clothes and grabbed a pair of sweats out of his dresser.
When Bill settled down beside Terrie, she turned her head toward him. She smiled, though she kept her eyes closed. “Thought you’d be up a while.”
“Nah. I had all evening to work on the report. I missed having time together, though.”
“Mmm.” She cracked one eyelid. “We could make up for it now.”
“You sure? I’m kinda tired, and you look whipped.”
“It’s okay. We’ve barely seen each other today.”
They didn’t bother with preamble; they just pulled off their own clothes and worked their way to the middle of the bed—where they promptly butted heads.
“Ow!” Terrie yelped.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Bill planted a kiss on her forehead and then slid his lips downward. It was a little sloppy.
They kissed for a bit, gradually wriggling closer until their bodies were lined up. Bill trailed his fingers down Terrie’s side, at which she giggled and squirmed away slightly. He moved his hand with a muffled apology.
This continued for a while as things began to heat up between them. Bill tried to roll onto his back, pulling Terrie with him. Her foot tangled in the sheet and she landed on top of him with a whoomp. He groaned loudly, and it wasn’t with pleasure. Terrie righted herself so they could pick up where they’d left off.
Terrie slid down Bill’s body so that her lips trailed along his stomach and further down. He drew his leg up, catching her in the shoulder. Terrie let out her breath forcefully.
“Dammit! That hurt!” she exclaimed.
“Crap. Sorry!”
Terrie gave up and crawled back up to kiss Bill. They ran their hands over each other’s bodies and moved together. Eventually, Bill rolled Terrie over again, and they found a rhythm.
Twenty minutes later, Terrie had had enough. Her exhausted body just wasn’t going to respond, and she could tell that Bill was more or less in the same boat. She kissed him lightly and pulled back, letting him know. He flopped down on the bed next to her.
As she was tidying herself up and putting her pajamas back on, Bill said quietly, “Um…do you mind if I, uh, just finish?”
She bit back a giggle. “Nope. Go right ahead.”
When he was done and had cleaned up, Terrie turned onto her back and pushed herself up on her pillows a bit. “Wow,” she said. “That was…not great.”
“Awful,” Bill agreed.
“Terrible.” Terrie snickered.
“Thank the Lord,” Bill replied.
“What?” Terrie flopped onto her side so she could look at Bill.
“I said, thank God.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why?”
“You know, just praising God for our suffering.”
“Um. What the hell?”
“Well, I read this article—”
Terrie cut him off. “You can stop right there. I’m fairly sure that bad sex isn’t what the Bible meant about rejoicing in our suffering.”
Bill shrugged. “It’s better than ‘you suck.’”
Terrie looked at him, her eyes wide, and then she was laughing. After a moment, Bill joined in.
When their amusement had died down, they both settled under the covers. Terrie slid closer to Bill, who wrapped his arms around her. “You know,” she whispered, “it’s okay to have an off night. We’ll make up for it next time.”
Bill smiled into her hair. “Absolutely.”
With that, they closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.
©July 5, 2013 ABMitchell
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This is the relatively innocent version of this story; if you want to read the more–um, steamy?–version, here’s the link. The password is suffering.
