SEX.

There.  I thought that would get your attention.

This article is not about sex.  At least, it’s not about sex in the way that this word is used to denote that incomparably beautiful and wonderful and delightful and joyful and fascinating gift which God has given to humans, and to be clear, a gift to be enjoyed in the context of marriage.  Sex is a gift given by God so that we would happily, and with great exuberance, obey His Command to: “Be fruitful and multiply” – Genesis 1:28.  [BTW, many people argue that God’s Commandments found in the Old Testament are not for us today.  Strangely, they don’t seem to be saying that about this one!  I wonder if we would be better at obeying His other Commands if they all came with such rewards?  Actually, now that I think about it, they all do come with the promise of extravagant rewards – both in this life and the one to come.]

So, no, we’re not talking about that kind of sex today.  Today, we’re talking about “sex” as it is used to describe “gender”.  I know - disappointing, right?  But, I hope you’ll keep reading anyway.

My sex, my gender, is male.  [And, let’s not go off into a discussion of the current controversy about multiple genders.]  There are scientific reasons and facts involving biology and chromosomes and genetics that explain how and why people are, almost without exception, either male or female.  Again, that science is beyond the scope of today’s discussion.  But my sex, my gender, is male.  One reason I know that my sex, my gender, is male is that, whether I’m sitting at home, or in my car, or, as I discovered last week, on a plane, I literally cannot control my desire to change the channels of the television or the radio. 

I’m sorry; I can’t do it, or rather, I can’t not do it.  Guys – you know what I’m talking about.  Ladies - you’ve seen it, but you probably don’t understand it; you probably don’t “get it”.  For guys, it’s like, even if we are enjoying what we are currently watching or listening to, we have the feeling that there just might be something even better playing on another channel.  How will we know unless we search, unless we click up or down?  As I would constantly explain to Renee [or complain to Renee if she had taken control of the remote, which she did most of the time!], this is, after all, the reason why God created TV remotes and the pre-set and the “seek” buttons on radios.  And even if God didn’t literally create those things, it still cannot be denied that the manufacturers of those devices would not have built them if they didn’t want us to use them.  They WANT us to change the channels, they NEED us to change the channels.  So, as “men”, we do our part.  We must.  We cannot do otherwise.  To do so would be to deny who we are at our very core. 

And yes, I know that women have an equal ability to operate a remote.  But the difference between men and women in this area is not a difference in ability.  It is a difference in desire.  It is also a difference in contentment.  And yes, it is most likely also a difference in maturity.    

I said all this to justify, or at least, to explain what is coming next.  Yesterday, I was watching golf on TV.  And I love to watch golf on TV.  Yet, with the remote firmly in my hand these days, I did what guys do – I changed the channel.  I went “looking”; I went in search of what might possibly be better.  And in my search, I happened to come across a movie called “The Book Club”.  It’s a movie [ok, “chick flick”] about four older women and their struggles with relationships.  Not exactly what you’d expect me to leave golf to settle in with.  And, to be fair [to me], I didn’t exactly “settle in” with “The Book Club”.  I continued searching.  I am not, repeat, NOT saying “The Book Club” is better than golf on TV.  I am loudly and clearly NOT saying that.  But, what I am saying is that I found myself leaving golf and going back to this “chick flick” a couple [maybe several] times yesterday afternoon.  [Does this mean I must turn in my “man” card?]   

One of the plot lines in “The Book Club” involves Vivian, played by Jane Fonda, who couldn’t sleep with men.  Not as in she couldn’t have sex with men.  She just literally could not sleep in the same bed with a man, or anyone.

And this got me thinking back through the years to the early days of my marriage.  Learning how to sleep with Renee [remember, this article is NOT about sex], literally figuring out how to sleep in the same bed with her, was one of the challenges I faced.  She faced it too.  I guess it’s a challenge that all newly married couples face.  You are suddenly no longer in control of the remote – I mean, the bed.  You can’t just search for a better spot, a more comfortable position, a warmer or cooler place anywhere and everywhere on the bed.  Suddenly, you have to take into consideration the sleeping wants and needs of your spouse.  Suddenly, sleeping is not all about you anymore.  Suddenly, life is not all about you anymore.

So we slowly figured it out.  I guess all married couples figure it out.  And eventually, as I went on various business trips, or on guys golf trips, or on Church Youth-Group Retreats, I strangely found that it was sleeping alone [remember, this article is NOT about sex] that was now the difficult thing.  The patterns of sleep were interrupted by her absence.  The struggle to sleep alone was real.  Some of you know what I’m talking about.  Thankfully, these trips alone never lasted too long, and I was soon home again, catching up on the sleep that was lost while I was alone. 

Until the time came when she left me alone forever.  The bed is mine now, all mine.  I can sleep any way, and any how I want.  I’m in control.  I can search for that better spot, that more comfortable position, that warmer or cooler place anywhere and everywhere on that big bed, any time I want.  Sleeping really is all about me again.  Free at last! 

Great.  Except it’s not great.  At all.  “The Preacher” – the writer of the Old Testament Book we call “Ecclesiastes”, knew this thousands of years ago: “If two lie down together, they can keep each other warm.  But how will the one who sleeps alone stay warm against the night?” Ecclesiastes 4:11 [The Voice].

“Against the night”.  What a lonely and haunting phrase. What a dark and desolate picture it brings to mind. Now I sleep, when I sleep, on “my side” of the bed.  I barely move.  There is no reason to move.  There is no warmth to search for.  There is no comforting presence to give, or to receive, a reassuring touch or hug or embrace.  There is no one to share dreams with, no one to share fears and joys with, no one to share life with.  There is no one to stay warm with “against the night”.  There is just the night.

 In Dan Fogelberg’s song, “These Days”, he writes:

                                  I used to think of myself as a soldier

                               Holding his own against impossible odds

                             Badly outnumbered and caught in a crossfire

                                                 Of devils and gods.

There were days in the past when I entertained myself with similar boldly courageous thoughts.  Imaginings like this are, perhaps, another indication of my sex, my gender.  But now that I am actually alone and outnumbered, I find that such bold thoughts no longer come as easily.  Or at all.   

All of these long months since Renee’s death have been a battle “against the night”. And sometimes, the night is winning.

Ambrose Ramsey | Pastor and Shepherd