Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Don’t Stop

Don'tGiveUpDear Darling,

Loving a shadow and a thought is a tedious business, isn’t it? I should rather embrace a genuine soul with a hundred flaws and thousand virtues than to endure somewhere between grace and devastation.

If you are anything like me, you are making excellent strides in the never ending task which life has handed us, the task of becoming. We all have to walk that line, between earthly fulfillment and heavenly discontent. We look to find a place in the world without letting the world or its prince find too great a place in us. And you do well enough, I am sure. So long as you don’t focus on being alone and lonely, there is a rich harvest of gratification. But sometimes, we must be judicious in knowing which among the voices of the world to heed.

I was disoriented for a short time by the suggestion that I despair or am too negative, or require some method of fixing before I should be suitable to meet you. Upon reflection, I don’t think this is fair. I may be dismayed at times, and downcast. But never despair. Aye, sometimes I wrestle with my own thoughts. I don’t take enough of them captive for Christ, but I have reached an equilibrium where I may take them for a walk, and hash them out before the throne of grace in the process.

And of course, some voices urge a lessening of the standards to which I aspire. Darling, I exhort you as I exhort myself: unattainability is a poor barrier to attempting perfection. I may never have the chiseled abs of a model or sculpted shoulders of an actor, but will should that stop me from trying? Our life may never be the fairy tales we imagined when we were young. I’ll never be the perfect man for you. I’ve got so far to go, so far! But shall we let that stop us from trying?

Darling, I know you’re out there. I know that you’re trying. And I know that this world sits on all our shoulders a little more heavily than it used to. I know some voices urge you to relent, voices even from within that bid you to stop trying to hard, that nobody’s perfect.

Don’t.

Don’t stop. Don’t you ever give up.

Don’t stop believing. Don’t stop trying, or praying, or hoping. Don’t stop preparing, waiting and becoming. Don’t stop running.

It hurts, I know it has to hurt. Day after day you carry others, and you wonder who will carry you. You wonder when it will ever end, ever be worth it, you wonder if you’ll ever be rewarded or fulfilled, if you’ll ever cross the finish line, receive the medal, the victory kiss. You wonder if you’ll ever find arms to hold you or another soul who listens and understands. You’ll get there! Somehow, some way, we’ll both get there. But don’t you quit on God, don’t quit on me. Not now, not ever.

I can only send my deepest regrets and sympathies that I can’t whisper these words in your ear. We all need the voice of encouragement now and again. And it may be that these are only the pinging thoughts of a lovelorn heart; that once we’re together, the struggles we face together would drive these thoughts and the need to say them from my head. I hope I never stop being the voice of encouragement for you. I hope I never stop writing letters to you. It’s a dangerous thing, you know, hanging your soul out to dry, putting your heart in a glass cage. People can find your secrets. Maybe I’ll just keep writing them here, after we’re married, and you’ll be able to come read them. I can’t give up, and neither can you.

Don’t stop, and don’t give up, not on you, not on us.

Because one day, behind closed doors with my ring on your finger, I’ll slowly begin kissing your neck. Then, in delicious, fiery liberation, you’ll be able to use the same words on me:

Don’t stop.

That’s my girl.

Yours,
Beren

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June 11, 2014 Posted by | Loneliness, Nights Like These | Leave a comment