marriage letters: what you call holy

Dear Eric,

There’s this recurring look you get in the spring and summer – out of breath, gleam in your eye, salt on your cheeks and creases of eyes. The words from your mouth tell of tired legs and hard hills and exhaustion… but that gleam tells of more.

Helmet, wheels, back roads become your own burning bush, the instruments God uses to turn you aside from tasks and meet Him on holy ground. Alone on your bike, you listen for His voice and hold fast to your desire for His Presence. You are the thinker between us, I the rash one, and I am ever thankful for the space you make to process with your Father.

37190_1657608283722_7806036_nThat look of having encountered the holy is similar to the look that caused me to fall in love with you in the first place. That summer before we started dating (when we were both in Alaska and I called you and told you that I had no interest in being anything beyond friends so you should forget it), I secretly checked your Facebook page regularly to find new photos of what you were doing in Anchorage while I was 600 miles away in Juneau, separated by land and water and uncertainty. I felt like we didn’t connect in the way I expected to connect with someone I wanted to date, but I couldn’t stop myself from admitting that you were one hunk of a man. There are a couple of pictures of you with a sort of smirk on your face, I assume towards the photographer, yet the life behind your eyes drew me in. I knew there was something special about that boy with the wind-blown hair and hiking boots, I just didn’t think that something special was for me. You wanted it still. I didn’t. But I wished I wanted it.

What you call holy is wrapped up in wind and air and breath and lack of breath. Your space to meet with God, take off your sandals, and strip bare before Him happens as you ride your bike or hike a mountain or wake up among the trees. It is there that you are honest, available, alive.

And it is there that we now meet God together. I can’t believe He provided a man for me who wants to create holy spaces with me, to linger in the coolness of the morning or to pedal away from the fading sun in hopes of being united together in that which you call holy.

Love,
me.

P.S. Ever thought about growing your hair out again?

_______________________________

marriage letters logoOn the first Monday of every month, I’ll be writing a letter to participate with Amber Haines in the “Marriage Letters” series on her blog. I love getting to develop this practice of blessing my husband and our marriage. You should also check out Amber’s most recent marriage letter and the others that are linked up to her post.

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