All the windows of my heart I open to the day.
- John Greenleaf Whittier
Remembering the betrothal...
We shared wine, and you said yes. I promised forever over a glass of rich red. Later I dreamed you dancing while I drank the dregs of another cup alone, and settled the price of your purchase, extravagantly.
It seems like ages since I first beheld love twirling in your eyes. You were young and sweet like Abba's grapes still ripe on the vine. You had no idea what it meant to be a bride.
When we kissed good-bye, you cried, not understanding the consecration. I tattooed the letters of your name over my heart, and with a finger drew a crown on yours. I gave you my word I would return for you soon.
Now I stand below your window listening to the rush of your gown and girlish laughter, and I must confess I have been crazy counting the minutes until I can make you mine.
I did not abandon you as some have said, but went away to build us a home with lots of rooms next to the river, at the foot of the vineyard Abba gave us. And while I worked late you grew weary and slept.
Watching through the glass...
But I am here now, waiting quiet, knowing full the pain of walking lonely, and remembering all the times I wanted to kiss away the wounds that came from the hands of your friends.
There were nights I came and stood with the stars, faces turned to your window parched, watching you drench the dark with fragrant oil, a mix of tears and love songs, and I was overcome with love for you.
Now a candle flickers from the sill, casting light shadows across your face. I linger long, hoping to catch a glimpse of fire dance in those sapphire depths. Your eyes pierce my heart with eternity.
I have been faithful like this garden oak, roots gone down deep, leafy green a canopy of shade, and branches reaching high above the panes, watching dawn awake in the heights and depths of all your mystery.
Darling, I see clear through the glass how the years have matured you, your beauty full-bodied and complex like a rare vintage, and my lungs ache for breathing the headiness of your perfume.
Your light shines lovely from behind the veil, like a city on a hill, radiant, longing to know as you are known the secrets of glory, and captivating me speechless with all your charms.
Surely you knew I was coming. Even as you slept I felt your heart hold mine. Now I see you making yourself ready and I can't stop this emotion from running wet across my cheeks.
Beloved, our wedding day dawns...
I shout your name and taste it sweet as it rolls smooth over my tongue. Again, I am undone as I watch you rise and rush the window like the sun, in a whirl of white linen and pearls.
You bend far to kiss me complete with the light of your eyes and I can't drink you fast enough. With carpenter hands, scarred and rough, I hold the silky smooth of yours, and thank God for the gift of covenant.
We soak long in ancient blessing. My heart spills holy as I watch you inhale and put your lips to our wedding cup, then drink deep and savor the fruit of our own vineyard. I kiss the wine from your lips and hear Abba say he is pleased to introduce you as my bride.
Kallah, do you know how perfectly you complete me? Your smile pure erupts and lights the room. Everyone claps when I splinter the glass, and we make love with our laughter as I carry you across the rose petal sky.
Ah, Love, you will drink deep from this cup of joy again and again as we open our windows to a never-ending day of celebration.
Listen, the sound of angels singing. The fig has formed its early fruit. Doves coo and almonds bloom and yes, winter has finally passed. And you rest here in my arms, content at last.
For those who mourn: Though it is dark, you must look to the day. For even now the sun rises and the dawn wakes gloriously.
The Dawning: Over a week ago I was watching the sunrise, and I heard the Spirit say, "It is time." I watched the beauty of light and color rise up ahead of the sun, and I knew God was speaking about His glory rising on the Bride of Christ (Isaiah 60.) We are seeing this happen now. Many people I have spoken to have been led into a type of seclusion with God in the last year. He is drawing our hearts to intimacy with His. My writing is inspired from His word and His heart.
Kallah--similar to Kayla, the name of my oldest daughter, which also means pure--is the Hebrew word for bride. I have always believed our names are God-given, and I come undone thinking that 26 years ago I chose a name for my first-born to declare God's glory in the earth today.
The Spirit and the Bride say Come!
May blessings abound as the Son rises upon you.
|I am thrilled to introduce Adrienne Berry of Ruined from the Ordinary who was inspired from this post to paint a beautiful image of The Bride entitled, The Vineyard. Please visit her site (click on the links) to see her painting and other beautiful works of bridal glory. You will be blessed by the experience! |
Photo Credit: flickr - quacktaculous