I watched a movie tonight called The Song, which is based on the Song of Solomon. I watched with one eye open, sorta hidden behind a blanket. Here's the gist:
Girl and boy meet.
Girl falls desperately in love.
Boy falls in love, too, but dang. Love is hard for him.
Boy has some daddy issues, but hey! Maybe she can fix them?
Boy becomes a famous singer.
Boy cheats on girl with a cute violinist.
Girl is at home watching over their son.
There's an argument (as you can probably imagine).
Girl kicks him out.
Boy comes back.
Boy sings her a song.
Girl forgives him.
Boy and girl live happily ever after.
And color me surprised.
Obvi I have strong personal opinions over here, but can we just --
Can we just talk for a second in generalized terms?
Because after I watched the movie, I was kinda like, really? That's the story from the Bible? Cause let me just SparkNotes that real quick. And it's not really, but I got a pretty good Sunday night bible study in and I ate like a half a pan of brownies. #jesuslovesbrownies
Love is hard. Right? Being in love with someone is daunting and sometimes, I kinda think what fresh hell have I even stepped in because hard. Opening your heart wide and holding your hands out wide and showing your cards - your Queen of Vulnerability and your Ace of Insecurity - is just tough.
And I'm not just over here spouting about dating life. No.
I was married for ten years and it was hard even then.
When you decide to do life with someone else and you walk next to them, and your steps match and your hands clasp together - you are taking a big chance.
You are stepping out on a ledge and just praying - hoping - that the other person will hold your heart in their hands, and guard it. You hope and you pray and you beg whomever you pray to that Your Person will live the verses of Solomon and Ruth and the other heart filled whispers of God. You hope and you pray that you will not crash and burn.
Because behind you lay a trail of rubble and still smoldering fires.
Because behind you is a long list of broken promises, almost-made-its, and dreams that were left half spoken.
Because behind you is a host of people that didn't love you enough, or in the right way, or when it really mattered.
And when you're walking step for step with Your Person, forging a path, you step kinda lightly. Right?
Because ahead of you is even more dangerous that what you're leaving behind.
Ahead of you is a minefield of terrifying maybes.
Ahead of you is a possible this-isn't-working-for-me conversation.
Ahead of you is maybe a pretty violinist dressed up like temptation.
Ahead of you? Might just be the fairytale.
You take a deep breath and you try to be brave, and you can't help but look out of the corner of your eye at The One Holding Your Heart. Distractions and every day life sometimes chip away at what you have, sometimes chip away at the armor The One Holding Your Heart is guarding with.
The hardest thing to remember sometimes is that the person you are choosing to do life with is coming from some place, too. The way they act is in direct relation to what they've endured.
And we've endured some things, you and me. Some hard things.
Those hard things shape us, grace us with rough edges.
Push us into shouting matches. Press us into corners. Beg us to cover the gaping holes before anyone else can see them.
Insecurities are ugly and vulnerability is exhausting. Trust me.
The Boyfriend and I are walking lightly, clinging to what we've figured out together and we're still learning the other's curves, edges, old hurts.
A week ago, we were sitting at a bar, and I was sandwiched between his sister and his brother-in-law. The Boy was sitting at the end, next to three girls waiting on drinks. I nodded at something his sister said and turned to look over at him. He wasn't looking back at me - but instead, laughing and talking with the girls at the end of the bar.
I think my mouth actually dropped open.
And easily, so easily, I slipped right back into that girl that I used to be. The one that smiled too brightly, laughed a touch too loudly. Inside, insecurity waged a war with vulnerability, and my hands clenched my coat on my lap.
We left the bar and I told him I didn't like it. Not one single bit. Didn't like how it felt, didn't like any of it. And there, in some kind of dark parking lot with a street lamp, he stopped and looked at me, and he spoke the words that I needed to hear.
If there is anything that I learned from one failed marriage, it's how to speak up - how much it matters to speak the hard words. I'm fairly certain that I will always be the girl that worries about the cute violinist dressed up like temptation. That's just who I am, I suppose.
That's where I've come from.
Showing that card and giving it over to someone else for safe keeping is, well, difficult.
What I guess I'm really trying to say here is that we are a broken set of people. We all have Things. We all have sweeping, gaping holes that render us incapable sometimes. And whether or not you've found Your Person, you still only want one thing -
and those are the sweet lines from Solomon --
I belong to my lover, and he belongs to me.
He calls me beautiful, and I am his.
Winter has past.
The rain is over.
I have found the one whom my soul loves.
Come with me.
You know what those lines sound like to me?
They sound like rest. They sound like the clanging of armor and old hurts hitting the ground. They sound like the heavy weight of the past falling to the floor.
Here's to resting with the one you've found that calls you beautiful.
Here's to that.
. About Moi .
I love, love, love flannel sheets and I am really passionate about lists on post it notes and most of the time I'm sad that no one else is as excited as I am about Diet Mountain Dew. I also adore run-on sentences. And if you need an awesome virtual assistant, who is full of personality and really good jokes? Email me. I'm your girl.
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He saw her before he saw
anything else in the room.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald
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