Saturdays are for Stories

A Love Story

This is a typical love story. It begins as most love stories begin. A boy, Guy, catching a glimpse of a girl. It was love at first sight. Not some existential overstatement of the situation, but real love that blossomed as soon as the seed rooted itself in the fertile soil of his heart. She was one of the prettiest jewels his eyes beheld. He had no choice but to love her.

As the situation had it, her life was entwined with his. Guy counted himself lucky. He found himself changing his routine to have more time with her. He would come up with silly games to try to catch her attention. At first he had little success, but as time wore on he fine-tuned the skill set etched within the very being of his soul – skills he never knew existed – and he had success. He created situations to have contact with her, whether it be a smile, a laugh or a brushing of her hand against his arm. It eventually led to kisses, her gently caressing his cheeks with clear wonder and awe, hugs of immense magnitude and a sharing of the wonder of the world around them as they discovered anew all that they encountered. He found a piece of heaven – truly, as he began to grasp the importance of their relationship.

It was a new drug – one that conquers petty competitors like alcohol, drugs, books, television and money. Guy’s days were days of elation filled with utter happiness. Sadly, little by little things began to change. Guy discovered that strife was arising at every corner. He would say “hot” and she would say “cold.” At every point of life together, he discovered her constant needling of him as she bucked against his very fiber. Modern foolishness would wonder at the fact that his love for her still grew. He could not help himself for she was incomparably more valuable to him than his life. He would instantly give it up for her if need be – no question, no hesitation. The result was many restless nights filled with fits of tears and frustration in the dark closet of his heart.

There were many things about her that exhausted him, but his desire was not so much to change these things as it was to get past them. Clarity was given to him and he started another leg of this love affair. A precious gift was given to him and he realized what was at stake. “God help me!” he cried.

There is silliness and humor in the midst of this progressing tragedy. Everyone other than Guy knew the situation. Had he availed himself to others’ wisdom and insight maybe the lesson would have been less painful. As it is Guy found himself with a little more silver in his crown. Guy’s intentions and persistence grew each day as he found himself convinced a life of consequences would follow them both if he did not discover the cancer at the core of their relational fissure.

So he began to notice, little by little, that her antagonistic tendencies matched his perfectly. So blind was he! How could he have missed it all this time. Part of her magnetic appeal to him was how much like him was she. In truth, not a closer match could be found. What bothered him, bothered her. When he felt the need to defend, she too defended. When he found joy in aggravating, she too found joy in aggravating. When he was ambiguous, so was she. The reasons for this exact match are many and to laborious to go over in the midst of a love story.

Guy had known this all along, but did not want to account for it – for it was his accounting, his due, his wage and his penalty. To see those things in yourself that frustrate you to no end and bring you to the brink of breakage is a special place. Guy would say it is part of the pavement that leads to paradise. With this newfound knowledge Guy engaged in a different strategy with his love.

He begun to engage her in an intentional way to encourage the better parts of herself while he downplayed his sour side. He realized, of course, that at this point years of damage had been done. No matter how hard he tried how could he possibly undue all that he had done? Still, he owed it to her to try. Funny thing is that as he forced himself to reflect and respond in a more mature manner the more he found himself truly changing. Now, you may be asking how could she even stay committed to the relationship this long, much less long enough for his hopes to be fulfilled? Anyone who has fought for the sake of another through the agency of love knows the answer to this question. But the answer to this question is something you must discover for yourself.

Back to our true story…I did mention it was true didn’t I? Don’t worry the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Guy was thrilled with the changes occurring within the very fiber of his soul. It was as if he were a guitar out of tune and someone was finally tuning up the strings. Giving them a pluck here and a turn there. It was a precious and gentle time of one string being tuned before the next was fiddled. Of course, if Guy bought into the lie of self-esteem he would have counted the entire experience a success since he had forever been changed, but this story is about love and the inescapable value of another and no other outcome would do than the saving of a relationship that even in its infancy had microscopic tears that had begun to tear at a cataclysmic rate.

Guy’s wonderings about how or when he would know if there was hope in salvaging this relationship did not go unanswered. Did I mention that his love had no idea all this time there was an issue? Its true. How it happened I cannot say, but it was majestic and beautiful. It was a night that reminds the soul of hope and beauty and the value in striving through the hard times. It was a night that began with dinner and a time of talking and laughing with all around. Then, as he lay her down for sleep, he found her for the first time caressing his cheeks and looking in his eyes in a way that had never happened before. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently pulled his cheek to her lips and kissed him so gently and willingly. It was a time of true vulnerability and preciousness. The immensity of the situation could not be denied and Guy knew instantly its significance. Then she pulled herself to his ear and whispered in his ear so as only he could hear – so only they would share – and gently sighed the words “I love you too Daddy.”

I love you too Naomi.

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One Comment to “Saturdays are for Stories”

  1. And I love you, too, Israel. I remember another love story, another child, many mistakes and grace, forgiveness. It happens all the time. God set it up and called it… family.Love,mom

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