I find that now that I am older, [talking around it using slightly euphemistic language] the intensity and duration of the physical sensations that arise during those ‘special cuddles’ with one’s spouse are much greater than they were when I was young. Long after she has finished, I am still caught in a sort of natural drunkenness, where I have little control. Breathing still rises to peaks. Muscles still spasm. Legs shake violently. I grit my teeth to come back to earth, but can’t. It is actually really really good, but rather embarrassing and I think Mrs thinks I am putting it on, but I’m not. And so, still shaking, I slide off the sofa and land naked on the cold laminate floor – that wakes me up a little but I still lie there for several minutes writhing and groaning, trying unsuccesfully to get back to normal. Then just one look at her sets me off again. Part of me thinks that this is not normal for a male and that I should go and see a doctor. But why spoil a good thing?
Now I’m not telling you all this personal stuff just to be boastful or vulgar. It’s that I had a similar experience in a very different context.
I was asked to help out with communion, holding the bowl into which people put the used plastic cups from the non-alcoholic wine distributed at the back of the church. This meant that I hen also had to take it up to the table at the front. And then turn round and walk back down the aisle through the congregation. I was filled with a sense of privilege to be doing all this as an act of worship. By the time I was back at my chair I was unable to join the next song. I was speaking in tongues, I was dizzy, and my leg was shaking uncontrollably. I’m not particularly given to manifestations of the Spirit, but I suppose this was one. Somewhere on my trip to the altar and back he jumped on me.
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