Wonderful
I’ve never met a woman like her in my entire life. She’s just so rare, though to herself she may feel ordinary. I remember her smile, which lights up my world, so well, as I do so many details. I cherished them because I had so few and wanted so many. Things that are rare are treated differently. They’re cherished. That’s where I am now: cherishing memories. But, I also ponder what makes her unique to me.
How did she soldier through so many years of neglect, pain, and abuse? How did she sleep so many nights wondering where her dear one was and whose heart or whose body he was chasing? When he said awful things or flared in anger, how did she turn the other cheek? How did she brush off his abusive and controlling behavior? And then was somehow wounded when she perceived she had wounded others by finally protecting herself? I watched her mourn losing a man who treated her despicably. It took my breath away. The heart of that woman is unbelievable. It is simply wrapped up in everyone around her. And, when the other man (me, dear reader) who wasn’t supposed to hurt her like anyone had before, failed and did just that, she forgave him and now calls him a friend? How did she swallow all those bitter pills, yet remain so sweet? Though I lived a fair while and though I searched, I never found such strength in a woman. Everything in her puts everything in me to shame. I am humbled and forever grateful to have known her for the short time I did. I may never get over the fact she could have (maybe even should have) been mine, though I still believe we can be together. (Call me what you will. I know. I'm hopeless. How can I explain how often others remind me of her yet no one comes close to being like her?) I see it. I see how women are jealous of her and men want her. But they don’t even see what I see. They’re looking at something else. I see her breathtaking heart.
Why is she so preeminent in my heart and mind? Is it simply because she’s rare? Because she’s made of something wonderful? I don’t know, but I want to see and know her more. She radiates God’s love. The word wonderful in the King James Bible often means spiritual. I use it here to describe a woman who has such a sweet and giving spirit. Knowing her constrains me to follow a better path and seek a brighter hope. What happens when the woman you care so deeply about is also such an inspiration? I don’t know what anyone else would do, but I admire and seek to be more like her.
Wonderful means full of wonder, which is how I feel when I'm around her. It's like she came from a different place and a different time, like she traveled here on some unknown conveyance. Though it may seem I've put her on a pedestal (possibly true) or that I'm simply in love with her (definitely true), I would wonder at her if neither of those were true. I don't have her on a pedestal, but I do care about her more than words can say. Some call it love. Some call it devotion. All I know is I'm drawn to her, as she has qualities I admire. When someone follows the Lord, sometimes they receive the godly gift of charisma which draws people to them. That sounds a lot like how I feel about her. It’s not the charisma of the world. It’s a softer and warmer thing. There’s no fear in it. It's pure.
One thing about humanity is we have a hard time seeing the future, yet we plunge headlong into it. We can see the past, but it becomes blurry after time. All we have is now, and it is with that girl’s example in mind that I place my life at my Savior’s feet and seek total obedience because out of that comes something beautiful. Something wonderful. Something worth living — and dying — for.
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Bear with me as I now say a few things out of character with this post. When did young ladies start wearing mom jeans? Did I miss something? And what’s this new trend with Gen Z where they enjoy East Coast grandma beach cottage decor? Did I fall asleep one day and sleep a hundred years or something? What did I miss? It’s not good, girlies. Do better. Actually, I don’t care. I just think it’s funny.
All I know is the girl I fell in love with has a timeless beauty. She was a pretty young girl when I first knew her. She was an even prettier young lady. And now that she’s a mom and we’re older, I’m more impressed with her beauty — inside and out — than at any other time in the past. (Truly, I wish I had aged half as well as she did. Middle age hit me hard.) Fashion fades. A godly woman’s beauty doesn’t. It gets better. Sweeter. Brighter. More wonderful. (Having said that, when I first laid eyes on her at the event we attended in February, my first thought was, "You've got to be kidding me." She was so beautiful. I'm not trying to objectify her. She is physically beautiful, though, in addition to everything else I've said about her. Can any woman be more of a complete package?)
If one could see my heart and hear my many prayers for that girl, one could conclude many things. But one thing dominates. I was changed by knowing her. For the better. Whatever happens in the future is out of my hands, yet I know this: I will proceed as a different — and better — man.
I wrote this on my phone as I went for a walk one evening. Tears came to my eyes as I remembered how I handled things with her. I don't blame her for pushing me out of her life, though I do still wish for one last chance. There is a great irony in all this which I’ll keep to myself, but, honestly, do we ever really understand the value of something until it’s no longer there? I figured it out in her absence. (And, I realized she is a gift that cannot be taken or pursued, as only God can move hearts. I tried everything. I shot my shot. I honestly can't tell what she wants from me, if anything, but I want all I can get of her. My heart yearns for her with an undefeated devotion.)
If anyone is reading this love letter to a beautiful woman and you have one like her in your life (or the potential to have one), do whatever it takes to keep her and make her happy and hold onto her. Be patient as she learns to trust and opens her heart again (sometimes in fits and spurts, sometimes tentatively, and sometimes too much, and expect her to withdraw at any given moment, returning at yet another any given moment without an explanation). Give her no reason to question your love. Hold her close because she’s been given so many reasons not to trust again. She’s been through wars you can only imagine. Implore God to take everything from your heart and your life that could hurt her or send her back to that awful place. Be her happy ever after. Be her rock. Be her shelter. Her safe place where she can talk or not talk, emote or not, question or believe, let go or hold on. Love her. Cherish her. She is rare. She is wonderful. She is absolutely precious. Treat her accordingly. You’ll be so glad you did.
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God bless anyone who prayed for me during the writing of this blog. You will not lose your reward. I may not know until it is over which post will be my last. Thank you for sharing my life, albeit in this strange and convoluted way. Part of the reason I started this blog was because I needed to express how much I loved a woman. She wasn’t in my life. We didn’t talk. This was it. It had to find a way out, and it’s been a large part of this strange journey. And probably the only reason anyone read here. These love letters came from a deeply personal place in the midst of tremendous pain. Everything I wrote about her I felt. Words always failed to capture how I felt, which is probably why I kept trying. Someday I will capture the feeling. The word someday seems to keep me going.
Thank you for reading. And God bless.
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