A Rumination on Love in Three Parts
Scene I.
I know it's not the "pinnacle" of existence,
that I am complete without a man
that marriage will come with troubles
as much as life always comes with pain
I know my man will have flaws
that he'll annoy me at times
that marrying him will take patience
as much as I have sins and need grace
But I want to know
I want to know this love
and know a man
to journey with him
and know his pain
I want to know his mind
discover the pathways of his heart
and prove to the world that choosing
to love him
is worth it
I suspect despite the cynics
that this love is rich and freeing
that the role of Beloved comes with joy
as much as a bird is happy in flying
I suspect despite the failures
that the previous generation chose
that there is hope marriage works
as much as God's promises are sure
Scene II.
Scene III.
I wonder how he laughs and I hope he finds me funny because I love to make him laugh as much as I love to laugh. I wonder if he is tall or short, slim or not, brown, white, tan, olive skin with brown, blue, green, hazel, grey eyes or what the shade of his hair will make me think of and whether it is curly or straight, wavy, or nonexistent.
I wonder if he'll like Rembrandt more than Monet or like neither and prefer Picasso; whether he'll love peas and I'll tease him or black beans and I'll agree with him. I wonder if he will get mad at rude people by fuming silently or turning their indiscretions into scathing, entertaining anecdotes later.
I hope he is kind and gentlemanly, slow to anger, the love of God foremost in his heart, the love of God's people and others enticing him to serve, willing to listen and learn from whatever life throws at him, to listen to me and hear my heart and mind and enjoy their music in its shifting tones. I wonder what will annoy me most about him, how he picks his nose or farts at inopportune moments, bites his nails or leaves his towels on the floor, how he says a particular word or a too-often repeated phrase; or I wonder what about me will most annoy him.
I hope he loves children and yet accepts and shares the reasons why we won't have our own, feeling confident and fulfilled in the unique path we will take. I hope he has a heart for the poor and elderly, orphans, and nature and animals and the earth.
I hope he sees me and loves me and finds me beautiful, no qualifications or emendations of my created form hinging the measure of his love, but I hope he rejoices to see me grow and change and he grows and changes along with me.
I wonder if he'll enjoy travelling with me and like rainforests or beaches or cities or country or deserts or mountains or oceans best. I hope he'll like Home and me and people of every culture and age.
I wonder what pain he carries, what passions bubble in his heart, what crosses his mind, what clothes he likes to wear, what his smile looks like, his hands, what he smells like (most of the time), whether he showers at night or in the morning, or how he puts on his socks, what foods he knows how to cook, what job he does every day, or what he likes to do in his spare time, or how his face looks when he's sad or angry or pensive or bored or silly or laughing or confused or when he's looking at me.
I hope he is trustworthy and safe, adventurous and grateful in facing each day, committed to making our marriage a thing of beauty for the rest of our lives, and most of all, I hope that God will enable me to love this man well.
I know it's not the "pinnacle" of existence,
that I am complete without a man
that marriage will come with troubles
as much as life always comes with pain
I know my man will have flaws
that he'll annoy me at times
that marrying him will take patience
as much as I have sins and need grace
But I want to know
I want to know this love
and know a man
to journey with him
and know his pain
I want to know his mind
discover the pathways of his heart
and prove to the world that choosing
to love him
is worth it
I suspect despite the cynics
that this love is rich and freeing
that the role of Beloved comes with joy
as much as a bird is happy in flying
I suspect despite the failures
that the previous generation chose
that there is hope marriage works
as much as God's promises are sure
Scene II.
Scene III.
I wonder how he laughs and I hope he finds me funny because I love to make him laugh as much as I love to laugh. I wonder if he is tall or short, slim or not, brown, white, tan, olive skin with brown, blue, green, hazel, grey eyes or what the shade of his hair will make me think of and whether it is curly or straight, wavy, or nonexistent.
I wonder if he'll like Rembrandt more than Monet or like neither and prefer Picasso; whether he'll love peas and I'll tease him or black beans and I'll agree with him. I wonder if he will get mad at rude people by fuming silently or turning their indiscretions into scathing, entertaining anecdotes later.
I hope he is kind and gentlemanly, slow to anger, the love of God foremost in his heart, the love of God's people and others enticing him to serve, willing to listen and learn from whatever life throws at him, to listen to me and hear my heart and mind and enjoy their music in its shifting tones. I wonder what will annoy me most about him, how he picks his nose or farts at inopportune moments, bites his nails or leaves his towels on the floor, how he says a particular word or a too-often repeated phrase; or I wonder what about me will most annoy him.
I hope he loves children and yet accepts and shares the reasons why we won't have our own, feeling confident and fulfilled in the unique path we will take. I hope he has a heart for the poor and elderly, orphans, and nature and animals and the earth.
I hope he sees me and loves me and finds me beautiful, no qualifications or emendations of my created form hinging the measure of his love, but I hope he rejoices to see me grow and change and he grows and changes along with me.
I wonder if he'll enjoy travelling with me and like rainforests or beaches or cities or country or deserts or mountains or oceans best. I hope he'll like Home and me and people of every culture and age.
I wonder what pain he carries, what passions bubble in his heart, what crosses his mind, what clothes he likes to wear, what his smile looks like, his hands, what he smells like (most of the time), whether he showers at night or in the morning, or how he puts on his socks, what foods he knows how to cook, what job he does every day, or what he likes to do in his spare time, or how his face looks when he's sad or angry or pensive or bored or silly or laughing or confused or when he's looking at me.
I hope he is trustworthy and safe, adventurous and grateful in facing each day, committed to making our marriage a thing of beauty for the rest of our lives, and most of all, I hope that God will enable me to love this man well.
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