The bathroom door opened and there stood my husband, Bible in hand.
"Isaiah Book 1, Chapter 4, Verse 6: And God commanded that a wife should leaveth the bathroom when her husband has need of it."
I left the bathroom when I was good and ready, commandment or not.
Last night marked the first in what I hope will become a weekly spiritual discussion with Stefan. We are first tackling the Bible. As I become attuned to my body's needs, I find myself pulled ever increasingly toward grappling with the heaviest of questions: wherefore the journey? I come to the table bearing a host of isms: feminism, skepticism, Eckart Tolle-ism.
We dove right in to Matthew's genealogy of Jesus, and I fought the urge to skip down a few passages to avoid the long, crazy names. But then we got to the goods: a description of Jesus' conception. Hoo-boy, did that ever light a spark. I have trouble seeing this virgin birth idea as something other than a 1st-century man's need to protect Mary's purity by offering the only solution that absolves her of any possible wrongdoing. I am perfectly okay with Mary and Joseph having had sex before they were married. I still buy Jesus as a descendant of God even with Joseph's biological involvement. Stefan says that I am missing the point, and that it shouldn't make logical sense as it relies on faith.
I definitely need to keep reading.