Tonight
we will celebrate crossing yet another threshold.
Our entire downstairs will be ripped up in the morning. Water damage has ruined the first floor of
our home and so it all must go. I have a
killer summer cold and yes, as my husband and children were about to walk out
the door to have dinner with their Papu, a purple mouse flew through one of our
downstairs windows. (Yes, it really was
a purple mouse.) Not a bad start to an
evening.
But, I am looking forward to
spending this night with my husband. It
is a Sunday, and he has preached a sermon all day long, beginning with the kiss
on my forehead and the prayer he spoke as he held my hand, leaving me and my
cold in bed. He has not stopped all
day. It is his way of pushing back the
onslaught that comes after he steps out of the pulpit. He keeps moving and giving and serving to
keep the doubts at bay. I love him for
it. And tonight is no different.
I will help him put the kids to bed
and then we will lean on each other as we sit on the couch together. This is the comfort at the end of the
day. To know that it will be quiet, the
sun will fade, and the space will be empty except for him and me. He will take my hand and one of us will say
something like, “So, how are you really?” and the other will try to find words
to tell the other where they are. It is
how we “find” one another again in our busy lives. We have long since stopped dreaming of
circumstances changing and bringing us that mythical “sweet spot”. Then I will hear him snore and I will nudge
him and we will tumble into bed.
We
will pray for one another and drift off the sleep. I will try to pick up a book, maybe. Lately it has been the Iliad. I will dream of
Odysseus and Achilles and Greek ships in a stormy sea. But the feeling of panic
that may come in my dream will not be real.
My love is not at the whim of some human god, it has been written in
eternity. It is a living, human, and eternal
thing. It is as real as the floor my
feet walk on in the morning and the pain I feel when I hit my toe against the
wall.
It is a love not according to my
wishes and demands, but a way of walking.
Chris is teaching me what it means to live in this world, to not run
away from the hardness of it. He is
easing the journey I am on. And he is
preparing me for the next one.
And what
of the life to come? You will find me
and my love there, talking, laughing, running, and singing in a harmony we can
only dream of now. It will be something
unspeakable. We dabble in a love that
will one day be devoid of all the pain and bitterness we feel right now. There will not be any floors to rip apart or
windows to shatter or bodies that need healing.
It will be the healing balm our souls long for, and it will be for an
eternity and a day.
~
Your Fellow Sojourner
"I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine;" Song of Solomon 6:3
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| Last night with the original floor. |
