Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Severed Selves

LoveApart

Severed Selves
Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Two separate divided silences,
Which, brought together, would find loving voice;
Two glances which together would rejoice
In love, now lost like stars beyond dark trees;
Two hands apart whose touch alone gives ease;
Two bosoms which, heart-shrined with mutual flame,
Would, meeting in one clasp, be made the same;
Two souls, the shore wave-mocked of sundering seas:-
Such are we now. Ah! may our hope forecast
Indeed one hour again, when on this stream
Of darkened love once more the light shall gleam? —
An hour how slow to come, how quickly past,–
Which blooms and fades, and only leaves at last,
Faint as shed flowers, the attenuated dream.

April 23, 2014 Posted by | Poems | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Good Days and Loud Thoughts

man-and-the-moonlightDear Darling,

I’m back on the homestead tonight, managing by myself. It’s a full moon, and probably the first one in months whose light I can walk in, quietly and undisturbed. But like a head that keeps spinning after the ride has stopped, a swirling mist of thoughts still impede the calm I’m seeking. It would take a World Detox to restore the full potency of the moon’s calming effect.

It’s not that I lack peace, or am deeply troubled by these thoughts. It’s only that the ringing of ears and whooshing of thoughts doesn’t slow just because my pace has. And anyway, the pace the last few days has still been crazy.

I fear my prayers are falling into something of a cycle any more. I’m rising before the sun five days a week now, and often eating the morning meal while preparing the afternoon meal. Thus, the Word falls by the wayside, and while I’m making up for it by listening to its preaching, I know I need to be more diligent about carving off my own slices when I can. I’m mostly praying for friends, family and my own horizons. (And, of course, you.) But the slain saints in Iraq? The oppressed in Russia? The grieving in Nigeria, the laboring in Haiti, the political struggles and ever-diminishing freedoms of my own people? The patients I see at the hospital? Not often enough.

Here we find two conundrums of the Christian’s walk. The first, forgetfulness of neglect or forgetfulness of repetition. The Lord repeatedly admonished His people on ways to remember, because we humans are prone to forget. He carved these traditions deep into the minds of His people, lest we forget. But then, how many times have we said a token prayer before a meal because it’s ingrained in our mind to pray and we sent not the slightest emotion of true gratitude heavenward?

The second, the balance of living in the world while not being of it. You want to find some degree of comfort and rhythm to this life, but not finding a place in the world so much that it finds a place in you.

That’s where I am right now. I’ve had several good days recently. The weather has changed, and kept on changing, bringing with it the sunshine’s thaw and then winter’s freeze, sometimes under the same sunrise. I just don’t want to drift afoul of God’s will.

So these thoughts continue to swirl along as I walk. The robins in the pine trees protest my presence, and I’m pretty sure that’s a rabbit I hear bounding away in fright. Maybe my thoughts are too loud for them. And unless I’m mistaken, that’s the first spider-web of the season caught on my forehead.

I like a good quiet walk…but I like a mad pace too. Yesterday I wrapped a class, ran some errands and then returned to swim a personal best distance of six and a half furlongs, on top of a mile run. This morning I ran a race with a classmate and his brother-in-law, and we unexpectedly took second ranking in the whole city.

I previewed the miracle of birth this past week, my dear. Three tiny lives newly-begun in the world. I couldn’t stop smiling. It’s such a privilege to be at the forefront of such pivotal moments in life, spending time with the laboring mothers or the nursery with the infants. Once again, it will put me ahead of the curve for when our time comes.

Looks like I’m moving this weekend. Although I do believe the Lord opened up the opportunity at the time, I came home the other night and am fairly certain my roommate had engaged the services of a hired woman to share his bed. He isn’t the sort I estimated conducting such business at all, and my judgment may be far askance. However vague the nature of the transaction, the process was abundantly obvious. I believe I even heard the muffled exclamations. Such things were thoroughly lacking throughout my upbringing. So, yes. Time to move on. It tends to keep one imbalanced when “home” changes so much, you know.

Also, I hope you’re not particularly attached to television. Mind you, the point is inconsequential. I simply find that if I sit down to watch it, the hours while away in idleness and I’m ill-at-ease when I rise and see how much time is wasted with nothing done.

Ah, but these have been some good days of late. I’m laying by some promising plans for the summer, and it’s only another handful of weeks before that begins.

I hope your mind is bathed in serenity and your hair bathed in moonlight tonight. Rest well, love. Pleasant dreams.

-Beren

March 16, 2014 Posted by | Loneliness, Nights Like These | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Consecrating the New Year

The Vigil exhibited 1884 by John Pettie 1839-1893Dearest,

What do the Bible, a pistol, a match, a pen, a stethoscope, a phone and a handful of salt have in common? Each of these seven items represents what my life has been, what it will be, and what I hope it will be. And as I knelt by the bed, a candlelit prayer to consecrate this year to the Almighty, I spread each of these out to remind me.

The Bible: that the word and will of God would be ever before me in all that I do. I have been less than diligent as a warrior in the service of the King to read and apply it to my life. This new year must be different.

A pistol: that I may always be prepared to defend that which is holy, pure and precious, a modern day knight’s sword with which to protect and defend, and that I may never need draw or use it, and if I did that God would be with each involved.

A match: that I may be light and heat to all that are brought across my path. A match burns for but a short time before being extinguished. Our lives are the same, although we realize too late how fleeting is our time on earth. In that span, we may spread that flame to others, or for a moment brighten an entire room. I would that my life would burn, be consumed if necessary, to furnish sufficient light to illumine the Cross. I pray that I may bring someone to the kingdom this year, and maybe many someones.

A pen: that my words may continue to be used to spread truth, and that God may bless them with love and mercy, qualities which I admit are often lacking in my determination to stand for truth. God has given me a gift of eloquence at times, and the opportunity to be compensated.

A stethoscope: that God would continue to bless my career in medicine, to grow in knowledge and skill to be a safe and proficient healer, and to listen to the voices and hearts of others when they turn to me for help.

A phone: that I may be a friend and brother to all who need me, to seek knowledge…and to stop using it so much when it’s unnecessary.

Salt: to be a flavor and a savor in my conversation; to season it with wisdom from above, and to preserve.

My dear, and all who come hereafter to read these words, take courage and hope for this new year. All things are in the Father’s hands, and even that which seems ill can redound to carry out His greater plan. I greatly encourage you to think of the things which characterize your life, past, present and what you hope it to be. Remember them. Lay them out before God and thank Him for His blessings in those areas, ask His blessing and guidance in those areas in times yet to come.

My darling, I wish you a brave, joyous and prosperous new year. May this year be the year all your wishes come true, and may you and I, whether apart or together, strive to better ourselves to serve the Lord, each other and others.

Love always,
Beren

January 1, 2014 Posted by | Holidays | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment