Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

A Peaceful Evening

Dear Darling,

An odd sensation settled over me last night…this sort of mental combination of feeling relaxed, calm and at peace about the world. Almost…almost like things were actually going to be okay.

I had wrapped my classes for the day, first day back from my trip. They were not particularly stressful, and I had a couple of hours worth of time before my Bible study, so I found a corner booth of Chick-Fil-A and proceeded to complete my study questions.  And I just felt like things were well.

I don’t know what brought it about. I’d like to say it was my faith or strength, but if that’s so, I stand condemned by confessing the sensation was odd and unusual. It could be that circumstances were settling for a brief glimmering moment in time. It could simply be that I was tired. Or maybe my trip did me more good than I knew, and I was sensing a release in a hidden reservoir of peace.

Regardless, I felt (feel?) blessed and calm, and adequate for life, even competent. I often feel like I am both far ahead and far behind in life, and last night I felt I broke even.

Sometimes I think this is often how I’ll feel when I know you’re there, and/or when I graduate. A weight will be lifted, and although other weights will aspire to replace it, the original weight, the void, the vacuum won’t return unless by some unforeseen tragedy. It makes me want to come home and settle into your arms for a ten minute hug. We don’t even need to move. Just stay locked in an embrace, all that we need in each other’s arms.

I enjoy my Bible study. I enjoy knowing that I’m feeding my soul and equipping it to serve my King. Sometimes as I read, other verses come to mind and I feel like I can see so much of scripture flowing together in one cohesive passage, like I’m positioned at a portal and can see the Word extending in both directions. But there’s also a competing feeling in me. These men are all older than I, and though not all seem as learned or experienced, I have to fight the urge to speak up on each answer, and I question the presence of an underlying prideful motivation to look like I know the scripture, or try to show off.

During lecture, I feel myself breathing deeply and easily. My mind is fertile with ideas as I make side notes about this letter to you, and about work. But I’m still listening to the speaker, and not even close to falling asleep.

Driving home, I think about how sometimes I feel like I can’t be alone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dependent on others, I won’t shrivel up without attention, and I like to be by myself in the quiet. But on car rides home, or when the house gets empty, I always reach for the phone to figure out who I can call. I like checking up on friends, but as many people as I know, there aren’t that many people I know that I feel I can call up just to chat.

Like a cloud, the peace dissolves once I get back into the real world and begin facing the stresses, conflicts and arguments of a rude and petty world. But I will remember this night, one last beacon of peace before I sail back into the choppy waters of the next six weeks.

My prayer for you is that this same feeling of restful, calming peace will settle on you tonight.

Love always,

March 20, 2013 Posted by | Loneliness, Nights Like These | Leave a comment