Her love story

“I have been waiting for this moment…
patiently watching and waiting for you all
these years.” His words were as smooth as
silk and his voice as soft as velvet.
Had my search just ended? I thought it was
too good yet hoped it would be true. As
usual my defenses were intact. “You don’t
know me – we can’t be together.”
A life is one thing, and a wreck is
something completely different. I was a
living wreck. I had issues that I wasn’t
proud of and no one who knew my story
would voluntarily choose to be with me – I
presumed.
“I have known you for a long time but you
didn’t quite notice me.” He said, with a
voice as tender as the murmur of the rain
when great clouds gather.
It’s not as if I hadn’t, I had chosen to ignore
him. He seemed perfect and I was not
used to perfect. Then as surprising as the
first cold drop of rain on a warm sunny
day, he asked for my hand in marriage!
Although I was previously as tense as an
acrobat’s tight rope, when he proposed, I
got the same kind of feeling you get when
you find a diamond in your coal shed. Is
this real? Could this be true?
I was a hot, impulsive child and his effect
on me was as tender as a mother’s kiss
that mysteriously stilled my restless spirit
within. Is this what peace felt like?
What did I have to lose? I thought to
myself. My heart had been broken so
many times that the remaining fragments
could no longer shatter. Have you ever
been so low that the only place left is to go
up? You see, at just the right time, when I
was helpless, he asked to share my life.
Only a peculiar man would want to do this.
Well, he found me at that point and I
yielded.
After accepting his marriage proposal,
culture would have him go and prepare a
place for us to live. So he left and I was
required to place an oil lamp in the
window as a sign that I was waiting for my
groom to return. This lamp would
symbolically lead him back to me where I
was waiting.
Surrounded with uncertainty of what I had
got myself into, I reluctantly trimmed the
lamp. It was burning alright – though
dimly. If the lamp was lit when he
returned, it meant that I still wanted to
marry him. He would take me to the
wedding and the marriage celebration,
and then to the place he had prepared for
us. If the lamp was not lit, it meant the
wedding was off. I didn’t need to give an
explanation…perhaps I had given my
heart to another, or I wasn’t prepared to
marry him…no matter my motive, this
would be a symbol of rejection.
Although we wrote to each other every
day, the calendar was turning at a snail’s
pace, and I didn’t know when he would
return. Sometimes I felt like that woman
whose fiancée was at war abroad. “Did he
really tell you that he was coming back?”
asked the mockers. Other times I felt like
Noah waiting for the flood as they jeered
at me. This was too good to be true.
For a while I treasured his letters. With
every stroke of the pen, he proclaimed his
unending love for me. “If only you could
grasp how wide and long and high and
deep my love is for you…if only you could
know this love goes beyond what I can
explain to you in this letter…”
In the course of time the mockery got to
me. I chose the easier, more convenient
way out and reverted to what I knew –
being non-committed. Like a pendulum I
continued living. His letters kept coming
but I had long ceased opening them.
Then one winter morning, with words as
cold and icy as the weather, I decided to
close this chapter once and for all. I was
brief and to the point: “I must confess… In
my moment of weakness I stumbled and
fell. In my unfaithfulness, I lay in the
embrace of other men. Forgive me but I’m
not worthy of your love.”
His response was unanticipated. “You
don’t have to be afraid. Everyone makes
mistakes sometimes. I know you’re hurting
tonight but I promise you joy in the
morning. My love for you has not changed;
and even when the oceans rage,
remember that you’re not alone.”
So amazed and besieged with adoration,
with tears flowing freely down my cheeks, I
was no longer confused, frustrated,
disturbed, and fearful. I made a conscious
decision to remain true to him. I lit my
lamp afresh so that when at midnight the
cry will ring out: ‘Here’s the bridegroom!
Come out to meet him!’ I will, without
shame or regret, come out with my lamp
to meet the One whose love never fails.
He brought light into my mind-darkened,
will-paralyzed, conscience-dulled soul; and
turned the darkness of my life into day. At
Easter time, as nature breaks into glorious
re-creation, I am reminded of the glory of
His resurrection for His light shines
through the dimness of my soul.
You, LORD, keep my lamp burning;
my God turns my darkness into light. –
Psalm 18:28 NIV
Therefore I keep watch, because I do not
know the day or the hour of Your return.

hili gazeti haliuzi jf.

Matola said:

hili gazeti haliuzi jf.

Click to expand...

A parable for the enlightened.