Sunday, November 11, 2012

Dreams run wild

In the months just before we married, Beve and I lived in Holland and India. And while God moved us toward marriage, He also taught us to communicate. Or I should say, He re-taught us how to communicate. We'd known each other for so long that teasing and laughing with each other was easy, and talking about all things outside of ourselves the go-to setting, but we had no earthly idea how to talk about the down deep and dirty truths of our hearts and souls. And those months were spent in a Discipleship Training School with Youth With A Mission, which meant we weren't supposed to be more than friends anyway. So how did God teach us to communicate as people who were designing their wedding invitation from a YWAM base, and would be husband and wife just six weeks after unpacking our bags from our cross-the-world flights?

We learned by writing to each other. Several times a day, sometimes short, sometimes long, always bathed in prayer and self-revelation. They are sweet and innocent and bring up old memories of people we haven't thought of in years, of experiences that were life-changing--and cross-cultural, and full of passion: for God, the gospel and each other.

I know this because yesterday, Beve and I pulled out the large, overflowing box of letters because we've decided to read them to each other for as long as it takes. I read one of mine, he reads one of his, and we listen to the young version of ourselves looking forward to this day (though they didn't know it) as they dreamed of a life together. Then we pull out letters from others we received during that time; feel the confirmation God intended in their words. 

I'm awed seeing this huge pile of letters, though I don't know why I should be. God always knows what He's about. He does romance well, our God does. If we let Him. And He does it with gusto. It humbled me then to have been the recipient of so great a gift as our romance. But looking back on it, living it into our thirtieth year, I know He intends such gifts for each of our lives. One way or another. Yours looks different than mine, but is no less a possibility--for Him.  In those days, Beve would say, "let's let our dreams, hopes, thoughts and imaginations run wild in the Lord."

The letter Beve read last night ended with a poem. Beve LOVED Ruth Harms Calkin in those days so it isn't surprising that he used her poem to tell me what he wanted me to understand about how God sees me.

"You dreamed me up!"
O dear God
It was You, You alone
who dreamed me up.
Nobody else
would ever have thought of me
or planned for me
or looked right through me
with future contemplation.
I was all your idea.
You had big things in mind for me
Good things, glorious things
And now, with magnificent dexterity
You are making them come to pass.
And I?
Well, I stand amazed on the sideline
And praise Your infinite patience.
                      --Ruth Harms Calkin

2 comments:

Kristina said...

Oh that's so sweet! Love that you are reading them to each other now. And I like the poem as well.

E said...

Cute! :)