It’s not her birthday.
It’s not even our wedding anniversary.
So I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing this post.
Perhaps it’s that today’s headlines are so filled with indescribable gun shootings; corporate corruption, and a planet groaning with the oppressive weight of a selfish, consumerist world, that a new narrative is in need of play. Or perhaps it’s that every song on the radio (or podcast or streaming service- whatever it is, these days) is laden with such angst and loneliness and heartbreak that they leave me like a helpless, teary John Boehner. I believe this world has sunk into a tad of malaise; a low-grade depression in need of a solid reminder that deep love is possible. So reading someone’s love letter can’t do any harm. So here goes:
My Kristan is her own constellation. Her beauty is show-stopping, but it’s her heart and spirit that grip my chest to the point where I’m breathing in clipped gasps.
I love how her laugh has an edge to it which usually suggests there is an angle to the joke you have surely missed. I love how she knows how to use any word in any sentence. I love how she was the first person to bring a meal over or watch a child when a friend was in need. Our backyard was your backyard, as far as she could tell, so welcome!
I love how she is able to speak love into the hearts of all children (including my own) at every turn.
Since the first day I saw her, with her smart, short haircut and independent spirit, she has ignited a charge in my heart that most men would describe as one that makes them bat-crazy; prone to irrational gestures and decisions. Her smile is burned into my consciousness, and when I am away from her for more than a few hours it projects itself onto the frontal part of my consciousness like the Bat Symbol illuminated the night sky of Gotham. And just as, with the sight of this light, Batman comes running, I, too, come running at the thought of her heart-melting smile.
I choose nothing over this woman; she is loveliest song ever written. She is the richest wine to be drunk.
I was within an hour (friends with me that night attest to mere minutes) of losing her and the collision of this reality will awaken even the most dormant of emotions. But in the wake of this crisis, as we kick through the collateral damage and take stock of the disrepair, our love emanates a glow that can transform a dark and dreary setting into what we hope is a beacon of hope.
With love, all things are possible.
In the face of soul-crushing adversity, when tears should be a mainstay, she physically wills herself up and in to her prosthetics with the grace of a ballerina slipping into her slippers and the fierceness of a warrior going to battle. She’s intelligent. She’s beautiful. And she’s fun.
In short, she’s my true love. And always will be.
And ours is but one story. Many share our deep love and affection. So talk to people you know with strong marriages and let them be your guide. We exist in a world craving meaning and seeking love. Let’s celebrate where it’s found.
Thanks be to God.