Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Diamonds are forever

You knelt and slipped your family's ring onto my finger,
and I sobbed with joy and buried my face against your shoulder,
and we went back down the mountain and were greeted with a cacophony of voices.

Sort of fast, isn't it?

What took you so long?

You're the perfect couple!

Are you sure?

We heard them all,
laughed with the overjoyed,
shrugged off the doubters,
but in reality the other voices didn't matter much.
We had heard His voice whisper,
long months before,
that this was right and just and a very good gift we were welcome to.

They like to say that you just know when it's right,
and though that may not always be exactly true,
I knew when I was confronted with you that you loved Jesus, others, and yourself
(exactly in that order, no room for false humility or stupid pride)
with a fierce and true determination that was not easily shaken off.

I knew when you wrote that first letter
that if I dated you, I would marry you.
I knew when you told me you loved me,
that it would be less than a year before your ring was on my finger.
I knew when you asked me to be your wife,
that waiting long years to make that leap was pointless.

And I knew that my yes,
spoken at each turning point,
brought resounding delight to the heart of the Father.

This is the crux of what you've taught me, love-- that not only do I hear, clearly and vividly, but I have the power to speak and change everything.

When the world said be strong,
you said it's okay to cry.
When the church said be silent,
you said your words bring life.
When my friends said be uncertain
you said you are capable and trustworthy.
When my own heart said I am weak,
you said you are a warrior.

You both hear my voice,
and trust me with your own.

For all these reasons
(and countless others)
I have never regretted my yes,
spoken on that bright chilly October day,

and every day since.