Carolyn Weber - Sex and the City of God: A Memoir of Love and Longing

InterVarsity Press
P.O. Box 1400, Downers Grove, IL 60515-1426
ivpress.com

2020 by Carolyn Weber

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InterVarsity Press.

InterVarsity Pressis the book-publishing division of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, a movement of students and faculty active on campus at hundreds of universities, colleges, and schools of nursing in the United States of America, and a member movement of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. For information about local and regional activities, visit intervarsity.org.

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

While any stories in this book are true, some names and identifying information may have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

The publisher cant verify the accuracy of website hyperlinks beyond the date of print publication.

Cover design and image composite: Cindy Kiple
Images: man and woman holding hands: Anthony Garcia / EyeEm / Getty Images
cityscape: Jackal Pan / Moment Collection / Getty Images

ISBN 978-0-8308-4384-8 (digital)

ISBN 978-0-8308-4585-9 (print)

This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo.

Kents again, of course,

and Hopes

The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.

Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.

And thus it has come to pass, that though there are very many and great nations all over the earth, whose rites and customs, speech, arms, and dress are distinguished by marked differences, yet there are no more than two kinds of human society, which we may justly call two cities, according to the language of our Scriptures. The one consists of those who wish to live after the flesh, the other of those who wish to live after the spirit; and when they severally achieve what they wish, they live in peace, each after their kind.

These days, everyone has friends and colleagues; no one really has loverseven if they have slept together.

A brain bleed seems far from a racy start to a book with the word sex in its title. Yet start here I will, as it is customary of epics to begin in medias res, or in the middle of things, and art is symbolic of interior life. As Swede Land, sister to the protagonist of Leif Engers beautiful novel Peace Like a River, asks: Is it hubris to believe we all live epics? I wonder: Is it hubris to believe we do not?

I received the call from the hospital while prying from my limbs sticky children slurping the last of their popsicles. My elderly father had just arrived by ambulance, the ER nurse informed me. It appears he fell in his bathroom, she explained. When I asked how he was doing, the nurse said it would be best if the doctor spoke with me. I waited a few moments while she passed the phone to a voice who identified herself as the intern. She told me that they were assessing my fathers situation, but that she was not yet at liberty to say anything else.

Is he okay? I asked. I mean, is he conscious? Is he seriously hurt? Again, the intern asserted that she could not make any decisive evaluations.

He seems stable. I wouldnt worry just yet, she assured me in an authoritative voice. But he is having trouble communicating.

That would be my dad, having trouble communicating, I couldnt help but think wryly to myself. My dad could be a wildcard in the communication department at the best of times.

I will be there shortly, I spoke calmly into the phone.

We have things under control here, the intern replied. There is nothing you can do for him at the moment. He is comfortable. Feel free to call back for an update until you can make it in.

I thanked her and hung up. I was concerned and moved around to get ready to leave, but I was not in a mad rush. My father had fallen several times before, and he was the quintessential difficult patient: stubborn and wary, a ruthless combination. I was sure once he got his bearings back, hed get his communication in good order too, and start giving those nurses hellwell, maybe not the pretty ones.

A few times now I had dropped everything to race out after such a call from the hospital, only to find him charming the nurses and complaining about how his legs gave out without warning, but refusing to accept any help. There hed be when I swept in, propped up on his hospital cot and cutting me off from even saying hello with a quick finger against his lips while he made a cuckoo sign with the other hand next to his head and nodding at the incoherent patient in the bed next to him.

So this time I decided to move more methodically, taking my time in preparation to do battle with him at length. It would be tough to convince him that he needed to accept more help now. I sighed and wiped little faces and hands, and sent the older children out the door while I searched for my wallet and keys. It was an unseasonably warm, even muggy, autumn day, and the children lingered in the yard, reluctant to return to school following the lunch break. I would have to gather them and get them back, a feat much like herding cats, then hand over the toddler to my husband, Kent, who worked from home. Oh yes, I better put gas in the car on the way... and send a quick text to my brother and sister saying that I could deal with this while they were at work and I would fill them in later tonight... and maybe I should throw some coffee in a travel mug? I was so tired from being up with our littlest one the night before...

Something rumbled, far off, so faintly at first I wasnt sure I had even sensed it. Then, yes, there it was: thunder rose and fell in the distance. Unusual, I noted, for October. The phone rang again.

Mrs. Weber? the same ER nurses voice spoke in my ear.

Yes? I replied. Even though the kitchen felt close in this unexpected fall heat, something in her tone shot icicles into my fingertips.

I would come right away, she said in an urgent, low voice.

But I thought the doctor said there was ample time yet... I thought you couldnt give an opinion, I stammered.