In Defense of True Love

With three friends getting engaged just this weekend, I decided to write an open letter to all the couples I know ... in defense of true love. 

Photo Credit: Daniel Tate

I saw the ring.

I saw the hope, brighter than your diamond, flash out at him; at the world; at me. No, it was something deeper than hope.

Love.
True love.

People don't believe in true love anymore and I lose my patience--what little patience I had to begin with--for these so-called realists. Those people--the embittered, jaded souls that they are--don't believe in true love because I guess they've never learned all of its pieces.

I've never known what it is to share that connection with another person, to let my soul entwine ivy-wise with theirs till the slightest tug hurts like fractured bone. I've never known what it is to live in dread of dread ... to lie awake at night worrying that the one my soul loves will be worrying: a mutual incapacity to think of anything apart from what that person might think of the thing in question.

I've never known it but I have seen it. Seen it in people like you. So I believe in true love because you've taught me. And those who don't believe in it? Can't believe in it? They just don't realize that true love hides under the nettle-leaf of a thousand courtesies.

To see a cup of water in the night, given by a clumsy, sleep-drugged hand, they call kindness.

They see you give up your own identity, that name which had been yours since birth, and bind yourself with a round silver promise to another human. You take his name and his heart and they call it a ceremony.
He fixes the brakes on your car and they call it a "to-do list".
They see the cup of coffee he made just perfectly and they wonder aloud why it wasn't a dozen red roses instead.
They see you lose a heated argument and let him have the last word and cry tears of hot release by yourself as you drive to the grocery store and they call it proof that the charm of your chemistry has faded; they don't realize that love, like any living thing, needs buffeting to set down roots.
In a moment of breathless, faithless crisis--a moment when he doesn't show a sliver of the infatuation he lavishes now, a moment when life has become like Sinai's forty years-those realists will draw close and whisper poison-wise,
"See? His love wasn't true love. Go on and leave and look for it elsewhere."
They don't see that the greatest material of which true love is knit is commitment and tenacity.
Your everyday choice to do his laundry, his bills, to share his interests, his people, his bed ... they name it "routine" and scorn it as they scorn the goodbye hug and "I'm headed home" calls.
They dub your patience "being used to him" and his quick out-the-door kisses "absentminded."
And those times he makes you laugh till your sides hurt and mascara inks your tears they'll call "good days" as if all the days between had ignoble titles.

They mean well, I guess, in their worldly-wise, weary-boned way ... but they can't know it is true love. They don't see that the service, the ceremony, the coffee and car-repairs and arguments and desert-treks, the routines and familiarity and absentminded kisses and "good days" ... these are the truth in the thing we call true love.

True love as I see it, as you've shown it, is a breaking yourself in half and giving that piece over, a breaking of one into two, a fitting of two into one: two lives, two souls, two personalities and wills and throbbing hearts. To make this love work, one must be malleable and able to fold in a thousand pieces, to build pieces on a thousand pieces to become whole again. A constant breaking, a constant healing, a constant no-longer-me-and-you but 'us'.

A thing without a name--those thousand pieces--are soon forgotten, disbanded, dissolved. The realists stole the name and cast it to the four winds and they can no longer see. So bind yourself under one name with a promise, call what you have by its name: true love. Defy the realists and better yet, teach them to see the beauty of your threads as you weave them day by day by live-long day.

I saw the ring.

I saw the defiance.

It made me smile and hope.

Love is a pox...

I seldom indulge in doubt.

But there are some things as a kid that the adults said were "givens" in life that I'd always written off as exaggerations. I'd always doubted a certain set of things. You know the sort. "Time will go so fast ten years will pass like a month." Really? Come on now-I'm not that dumb. The "time-flies" promise was something I always denied. At seventeen, eighteen, I was not ready to accept it. Not quite yet. But my reticence to acknowledge there might be something in it after all was weakening, though I wasn't aware.

Because this year has been huge in one way: A pox has broken out. The pox. 

When you're fourteen years old you sit on the bed with mama beside you and talk about "the future" in comfortable terms of far-awayness. You sigh and lament the fact that there's nobody around to marry, were you old enough anyway. "Don't worry," mama says. "Once it starts happening you won't know what has started. Everyone will start dropping like flies."

You snort.

You chuckle in a "Yeah, like that will every happen" way.

You forget about it.

Until you're twenty. And then. Then. Then the pox does break out.

After coming home from a trip for the second time this fall and finding (for the second time!) that another friend has found herself a "matchless match" (and what's up with this happening every time I leave town?) I felt rather kooky. Was it just me or was there an inordinate amount of "matches" being made this year? How many was it? An alarming amount, it seemed. Could it be that Mama was right and once it started it wouldn't stop? Ahem.

This afternoon I sat down and decided to count--for sanity's sake--how many friends and acquaintances of mine had begun a relationship {or were bordering on it} this year? The total took me by storm.

14.

14 couples.

That makes 28 if you're counting. But who's counting?

28 people I know (more or less) who have coupled off this year. And this isn't counting the people I know who have gotten married or are engaged currently.

O.o

I feel...

...not jealousy.

More like bewilderment.

 Confusion and a little kick-back defense to find that those adults were right all along.

Love is a pox. A pox the whole world succumbs to by and by.

Well jeegley-clambake. This is a to-do.

It's one of those cases where you find the world flying out of control, out of your grasp, and growing up suddenly looks rather serious and cock-eyed and not at all like you thought it would be. It's exciting because obviously some things are finally moving along and little people are growing up and meeting people and loving people and marrying people and having more little people. But it's going so fast.

A busy summer and fall of campaigning, ministry, and writing.

I finally slow down, turn around, and three of my best friends are in relationships.

Several good friends follow suit.

I hear tell rumors of the same happening in my extended circles.

What on earth happened? I'll tell you. We grew up. And once you grow up beautiful things start to happen. Beautiful, scary, adventurous things. It's real now and I find the adults were right.

...about love.

...about time.

...about life.

I have seen things change so fast it'll give you whiplash. I actually started a Pinterest-board because of this new revelation of having grown up. It's inspiring new ideas, new thoughts, new inspirations. So here's to adventure. Here's to wearing a neck-brace if you have to. Here's to buckling your seat-belt, checking your parachute, and waiting for the drop.

Here's to a bit of daring.

Crashing the Pity Party

    Following a wonderful post by Miss Raquel, {yes, I was clever enough to link to the post} I was thinking about Love. What a capricious word "Love" is in our English language. By "love" we English mean anything from Nutella to babies to period dramas, to Sherlock, to Thor, to our guy and our God. We are quick to say the word--indeed, "Love" is probably one of the top words in English vocabulary simply because it has so many definitions.

    As single girls and women we long for the day we will be loved by a good man, and most of the time we are content with God's love for now. Yep. That's the problem. Those two little words tacked onto the end of the sentence. "For Now." Don't lie--you know as well as I do that those two words chase after your thoughts like hounds after a hare.
    I am as guilty as the next woman of viewing this single life as an in-between-time. I seem to view these years when I am unmarried as a "waiting period" as if: "Oh, the Lord's love is good enough for me now until He decides to bring my man along and then...then it'll be over and we'll all run along merry as the day is long."

     But therein lies the whole problem. I've been reading C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters and came across a very intriguing bit of correspondence between Screwtape and his nephew:

“You must therefore zealously guard in his mind the curious assumption 'My time is my own'. Let him have the feeling that he starts each day as the lawful possessor of twenty-four hours. Let him feel as a grievous tax that portion of this property which he has to make over to him employers, and as a generous donation that further portion which h allows to religious duties. But what he must never be permitted to doubt is that the total from which these deductions have been made was, in some mysterious sense, his own personal birthright.” 

     I had to feel convicted over that quote. I, like many others, seem to view my time as my own. I assume that my life as a single woman will come to an end someday, and in the meantime I look forward to that end with great expectation. What none of us take into account is that we don't know which part of the future we will have.

     What  if this "season" is one God has called us to for the rest of our lives? What if we aren't to be married or--and I am not being morbid, just philosophizing--what if we aren't to live as long as we expect? Do you really want to live life as a single woman with your eyes fixed on the horizon, never seeing all the gifts strewn around your feet?

     The thing is, Jesus isn't interested in convincing us to wait. What He wants is for us to fall so completely, unutterably, wholly in love with Him that we don't count moments and hours and days and weeks and months and years. He wants us to be consumed with a passionate love for Him that outer circumstances don't affect our willingness to be His. Yes, even marriage. Because for all the "Love" that we might share with a godly man someday, it won't last. The warm fuzzies will fade. You will discover he's a man after all, and even Mr. Knightley sometimes props his boots in the middle of the good china. Marriage is simply another step of life. A precious one, yes, but no more important in the eternal scheme of things than any other event you experience.

    Sometimes I think I'm guilty of using my love for Jesus {or His love for me} as an antidote. "I love Jesus--I really do. And I'm loving Him so much today that I don't feel anxious to be married at all!" Such a love can hardly be deemed a whole-hearted, selfless, tender affection and devotion to a person. It smacks singularly of selfishness. "I love you till" or "I love you because"--not a bit of that profound way Jesus loves us:

"I love you."

    No reason, no conditions, no expiration date. He loves us simply because that was His choice. And in return we learn to love Him. (1 John 4:19)

     So this is not another post on How To Wait. It's not even a post on Waiting Is Hard. {which sometimes runs closer to my frame of mind} I really want you to understand that. I've written and you've read plenty of posts about Theory. I'm asking for some Practice. Some determination to crash our pity-parties and get going with this beautiful life God has given us. How it must sadden Him and make Him shake His head to see us entirely missing the point of Life.
Life isn't an endurance test!
     It's a privilege. We can't just sit here tolerating singleness as if it was a dry, bony desert we couldn't wait to get to the end of. I'm not writing a Guide Book To The Piteous Desert.
     Instead what the purport of this post is, is a challenge to each of us to build a vibrant, sweet, lasting relationship with Jesus. A relationship that begins today and extends to death and beyond. A relationship that will still be the source of your joy, your contentment, and your peace when {and if} you are married, when the children come, when the children leave, when you're retired, and when you're eighty years old, toothless, and mental to boot. A relationship that is based on His ideas of love--not your idea of an antivenin. Because really...when all's said and done and Jesus is in the equation, who gives a wimpy hairpin if you've got a man?

"Waits" and Measures ;)

"Trust in the Lord, and do good;

Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.

Delight yourself also in the Lord,

And He shall give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord,

Trust also in Him,

And He shall bring it to pass.

He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light,

And your justice as the noonday.

Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him..."

~Psalm 37: 3-7 

I love these verses. They have the soothing effect on me that so many of the Psalms have. I love many many passages of the Bible, but the Psalms are to me some of the most inspiring. David (and the other psalmists) had every human emotion under the sun. They fretted, worried, sinned, fought, despaired, and yet there is always that element of a Psalm that is victorious. A waiting upon the Lord that prevails. They minister to my very soul in the moments when I am most tempted to take things into my own hands.

We single girls often take verse 4 to mean that the Lord will give us everything we desire--a husband, a home, a family of our own. And for many of us that will be a blessed reality. It is a beautiful promise that the Lord cares about the dreams of our heart. But there is an even greater assurance to be found in that verse. Have you ever looked at one of those optical-illusion pictures? You look at it one way and see an old man--you blink and suddenly you see a Spanish guitarist singing to a pretty senorita. Scripture is often that way for me--I read a verse I've read a dozen times and the Lord brings a new perspective out of the flat page and suddenly He is speaking to me. The Word is alive, isn't it? :)

"Delight yourself also in the Lord and He shall give you the desires of your heart." A while back I started to notice something intriguing and exciting about this verse. As we delight in the Lord, He will give us the desires of our heart. He will hand us desires and plant in us desires and as we delight in Him our hearts will conform to His image until our deepest desires are His desires.

That is what I noticed about this verse. I have a deep-rooted, deep-seated desire to be married and raise a family one day. I have told you before that in my own human, Emma-Woodhouse-ian mind I cannot see how on earth God will bring a husband to me. I don 't doubt His ability, but I do think it'll take a mountain of a miracle to bring us together. "All things conspire against the idea!" I might moan. ;) But God is entirely able--I know that much. :) For now I keep sacrificing that desire of marriage, praying fervently that if that desire is not part of His plan, that He will replace it with dreams of His own plans. And I know He will do that.

So let's continue on, desiring nothing but what He desires. And I'll let you know if that mountain of a miracle starts happening. ;)

The Chosen Ones?

I am a romantic. I admit it freely, because I've found I can't avoid people finding out, no matter what I do. ;) I am prone to staring dreamy-eyed out windows, or smiling softly about nothing in particular while someone is trying to talk to me. I love all the Jane Austen, Dickens, and Elizabeth Gaskell period-dramas.(And yes, I did get a secret little thrill over the fact that this blog's acronym is almost BBC! :D)

Like most young women I love to dream of the day I will be married to a godly, noble, amazing man. But as we all know, it can be hard to wait for him. I know it is hard for girls who look out on their acquaintance and think, "Wow, I'd like to marry him but why doesn't he just get his act together?", but in some ways it is harder for girls like me who think, "Um....hello? Anybody in there? Oh, just you? Another girl? Where are all the guys?"

Because I will be quite frank with you. I hardly know any young men of marriageable age. I can count three that I have actually spoken to in the past several years. And pretty much the ones I do know, I am related to. Seriously, that is the state of affairs in Rachel-dom. A dire case? One might think so. At least you girls who know people have a chance! Or so my mind tends to run.

The Lord and I have conversations on this topic fairly often. They tend to run like so:

God: "Rachel, are you pouting?"
Me: "Um...You might call it that, God....yes. I am. I'm sorry!" (I'm quick to apologize. :P)
God: "Don't you believe that I have your story all written out?"
Me: "Yes, I do, Lord. You know I do...but how in tarnation will I get married?  I don't know anyone!"
God: "I know everyone--and I know your story."
Me: "I know you do. Thank You for that. But....Father, couldn't you give me a glimpse of him? Couldn't I meet him, even if I won't get married anytime soon, just so I could know he was around?"
God: "Would that be the best thing for you and your romantic mind? Come now...would it?"
Me: "I suppose not. I'm sorry." (There it is again! :D)
God: "You would be even more distracted knowing he was around than you are now. I want your mind to be focused on Me. I must be your True Love, you know. I am with-holding him for now to protect you."
Me: "Yes, Lord. You know best."
God: "I do. Thank you for recognizing that." ;)

And so we progress. :) Jesus is such a comfort to me, for He has been teaching me that my first love must be Himself, and before I have learnt this lesson, a husband would be more of a danger then a blessing, for after the first few weeks of marriage I would realize was was married to a man. Does he have skin? Yes? Then he's human, and a sinner. Thinking of Christ as my Lover and reading His love-letters to me is an ever-increasing delight. I am beginning to, to recognize the little gifts He bestows upon me during the everyday matters of life. Do you see a gorgeous sunset out the window? Did you realize that that was your dozen red-roses from Jesus? Did you read a verse that delighted your heart? You might not have noticed, but Jesus was hugging you and telling you that you are beautiful.

All these things help my mind stay focused in the right place: On cultivating a relationship with Jesus that will last through whatever He has planned for me. I realized the sober need I have for a deep, joyful love for Christ when I was reading Jasmine Bauchum's Joyfully At Home:

"...Sometimes we literally cry. Tears stream down our faces as we mourn the state that we have been relegated to, because everyone knows that single girls are the castoffs, while the married women are the true prizes...And as I reflect on the attitudes that many young women have toward matrimony, I begin to worry about whether or not some of us are setting ourselves up for bitterness and disappointment the longer we must wait for marriage, not trusting in God's timing so much as gritting our teeth and bearing the single years as they pass by in a lonely blur. Something we would never want to consider would  be the prospect that these 'single years' aren't just indefinite--they're perpetual. Some of us won't get married after all. What if that 'lonely blur' happens to be the life that God has called us to? Will we still trust him?"

Ouch! I don't know about you, but I am terribly guilty of the strain of thinking that we single girls are the cast-offs, we've been "relegated" to this position, and the married girls are the "true prizes". Untrue! And if I have to stand on the street corners yelling it, I will. It is an idea I still have a hard time thinking on. I don't want to consider the idea that I will never get married, and that I'll have "only" Jesus to love and hold me. 

Only Jesus?!? Did I just watch myself type that out? And yet I'm afraid that is the attitude too many of us single young women are cultivating. I want to let Jesus guide my single years to be the best years of my life, if He wishes. I will live them fully, joyfully, and thoroughly. We all need to realize that this season of being a stay-at-home daughter, unencumbered by schoolwork and "too young-ness" is brief. We are young women on the threshold of adulthood, full of vitality and youth. Let us use these years for His glory.   ~Rachel