I think it was your voice that first attracted me to you.
Bold, yet gentle. Assertive, yet calming. I looked up from the word on my page and found your question on my mind. Was the seat next to me taken? No, I assumed it was not and with that, entered into an exchange of information, insights, and influence — your voice magnetic, with just a touch of magic.
You made me laugh with that voice. Spontaneous, yet somehow strategic, weaving a humorous thread of the past onto the loom of the present. You selected my whimsical yarns to intertwine with your deliberated woolen words and spun a scarf of delightful giggles that tickled me from within.
In the subsequent days, I heard you pray. Maybe it was your prayer that attracted me to you. A prayer whose roots sunk deep, shining light into the hidden recesses of your mind and heart. Your words were life and spirit, like the scribe who unearths treasures, both new and old — dripping freshness from the ancient passages and opening insights behind previously closed doors. Your voice knew God, and it was obvious He also knew you. Your pathway to Him proved straight and well-worn.
When the summer’s heat melted the sound of your voice far away, you poured words into your letters like honey on dry toast. “How my heart is thrilled with every remembrance of you,” you began and I lapped up the sweetness like a child with her first dairy dessert. “I want you to be all that God has for you,” you encouraged, and I experienced my first washing of the word. “I’m praying for you,” you reassured and I felt cherished, holy, and blameless.
In the winter’s frost, we walked into forever together — you and I. Not so much with a word, but with a vow, the kind that commits, regardless of circumstances. “In Him all things hold together,” we penned on the invitations, never truly realizing the profundity of the promise. Feeling much, but pledging past emotion, we promised without realizing the pending tedium.
As the years past, we both enjoyed and endured the children, the carriers, the culture and the conveyances. We experienced disasters, discord, and discouragements. The fights and the flights. The moments, all so ordinary, built up into one extraordinary life.
From Athens to Atlanta, Bangkok to Biltmore, Campbell River to Chiang Mai, Dallas, D.C., Dunblane, to Dalvay by the Sea, Ellian Donan to Edinburgh, Fuzhou, Guilin, Hong Kong to Hsinshu, Isle of Skye, Juan de Fuca trail, Kuantan, Kuala Lumpur, Ko Sumui to Kyoto, Linz, Linden, London to Los Angeles, Macau, McAdoo, Melk, Miscouche, Montpelier to Moncton….Phuket, Portree, to Prague… Salizburg, San Francisco, Seoul, Silver Falls, Singapore, Sooke, Sounio, to St. John’s….Taipei to Taichung… Vancouver, Václav Havel, Victoria, to Vienna…and yes…even to Zibo.
We’ve thirty-five years together – walking and talking; growing and sowing; exploring our future, explaining our viewpoints, expressing our opinions, expunging our past. And excuse the cliche’, but you are still the one.
As I think on it, maybe it wasn’t exactly your voice, or your letters, or your prayers that first attracted me to you. In the beginning it was simply your word — the Word that was in you and the Word that was you. Because through and through, you are what you say and you fulfill what you promise. You are a man of authority, leadership, and wisdom, my dear husband. And come to think of it, I’m still attracted to you. Happy Anniversary.
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