Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

If You Want To Win Me Over…

03. Borsos, Jozsef - The Dissatisfied Painter (Crisis in the Life of a Painter),1852

“And who would have thought that you’d be the one
That I would have found here waiting?
Lost in this night until you arrived
And always too blind to see;
And who would have thought that after this time
That I’d be the one you’re saving?”

Dear Darling,

People — including wives — once had very strict ideas about what a wife’s duty was; little more than to support her husband. I’m hardly so chauvinist as to think that is the sole purpose of womankind, and yet, would it be so chauvinist if I also held that belief’s opposite, that my primary purpose on this earth is to love, support, serve and provide for you and our family? In society’s haste to loose women from the chains which bound them, look at what we’ve done to our world. It was only fair to set men free from their obligation as well, and the bond of family itself is unraveling. We overturned kindness and compassion, restraint and charity along with it.

Society notwithstanding, my obligations are and must always be to serve God, and to serve my family…to serve you. Up to and including laying down my life.

Have you ever given thought to your obligations, or how you might win me over?

If you ever wondered how to win me over, start by being kind. You needn’t be a model or an astrophysicist. You needn’t even be altogether impervious and strong. Man, after all, feels a little diminished in his purpose if there is no one for whom he can be brave. Just be kind. Be loving, compassionate, supportive, nurturing. If you set out to win a man’s heart, start by becoming indispensable. Be a fountain of refreshment and retreat, someone who is safe and encouraging. Such a fountain will seldom fail to draw a man in, if for no other reason than to be intrigued by such a nurturing soul.

If someone showed me that kind of gentle, consistent support and grace, it would go far to win me over. But it seems no one of comparable worth ever made such an effort. And it’s sad, because I feel my walls rebuilding, and redoubling at such a speed as to leave gaps. Loneliness contemplates strange ambitions within those gaps.

One of the things I do when I’m bored is scroll back through my texts to see who I haven’t texted in a while, who should be checked in on, who needs encouraging. I could use friends who reach out to check in, just to show they’re thinking of me. I can’t help but look back over the people I’ve fought for, the people I’ve lifted up, and how they move on and leave you behind. Even those living under the provision of the Lord still need to be fought for. Think about Elijah. He was on an errand for the kingdom of heaven, but when he felt alone, he fled, collapsed and asked the Lord to take his life. The Lord fed him, stood him on his feet, showed him His power, and told him he wasn’t alone. I guess maybe I need someone to see that, to tell me that.

Especially tonight. I’m sick again. I’ve been sick a lot this year; it comes of burning the candle at both ends. I can’t tell you how it would warm the heart to have someone, a voice or a name from the past, reach back in and show tenderness and care. Is it selfish? Am I so selfish, who have stood at the ready to fight for you on so many occasions? Who have been supportive to so many, reached out in compassion to so many? When illness meets weariness and I am lain by the roadside, is it so wrong to wish a soul would come by, even unexpectedly, to help me up and stand beside me? Perhaps not; but apparently it is too much to ask, in the end.

Someone hooked a finger at me last night, pulling me aside in the crowd to tell me they wanted me to meet someone. I barely knew the woman that was asking, let alone the woman she recommended, but in the spirit of openness, I provided my number to hear her pitch. I began by asking what made her think we would be a good match, not knowing me. “Because you’d make such a cute couple,” was her reply. If it were only that simple.

Sometimes I’d like to show someone these letters, to give them a true understanding of this heart, of what they’re up against; to make them want to try harder; to show them what they missed. Sometimes I wish the Lady Kirche had seen them, and wonder what her response would have been. I know if I’d found a cache of love letters written by someone I was courting, it would be a game-changer. It would fill me with a desire to become that person, to be worthy of the one to whom the letters were written. But that would be like staging a death to witness one’s own funeral. Such an advanced preview wouldn’t be fair…would it?

Sometimes I feel like King David. He was a soldier and king, “a man after God’s own heart”, a warrior’s heart and a poet’s soul sharing the same body and destiny. He too poured out his soul, in psalm after psalm, alternating joy and anguish. He was unique to his day; men are seldom so honest. But then, he was also the leader of a band of rowdy men. It seems strange he made no efforts to convert them to God, yet God smiled upon him in his efforts. Maybe that’s a lesson. Sometimes I feel I should have been less conservative, lived a little more ragged. Life has taught me, most women don’t want someone who is good. They want someone good enough…someone even whom they can reform, but who is “bad” enough to excite them and feel a little wild.

Alagfast is gone all next week. I will enjoy the silence. And as of tonight, most of my Christmas shopping is done.

I should sleep. Daylight brooks no delay for saddened hearts.

Always,
Beren

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November 10, 2013 Posted by | Loneliness, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment