Thanks Andy,
ever since yesterday I am getting cetain kind of giggle at the thought
of loving God in that way,
like a challenge is being presented. Get's the fire going ya know.
and of course you can use my letter.
I must admit I feel the sense of divine femanine and am humbled and
opened to new feelings and opportunities. But still, I retreat back to
thinking of God as the mean parent, and me trying to be all I can be
for that image and also more so rebelling against it.
As I was reading that I kept thinking what courage it was taking to
love God this way, actually there are parts of me saying "you can't
love God that way, it's wrong!"
relationship, actually tears are coming up and that presence of knowing
is coming up as I write this, how could a person offer this and yet I'm
so convinced that that is where I will find it, maybe I need to aproach
Jesus as a soon to be lover. Once again courage comes to mind....
A Better Bride
I am getting married tomorrow.
The suits are bought. Date is set. One year ago I started paying off the ring. Each payment, each month, I have readied myself deeper to be merged, to shed the solitary freedom into which I was born, and to let my life join with another. I have readied myself, and my soul has expanded to encompass a broader two.
Three weeks ago, my fiancée called it off.
But still, I am getting married tomorrow.
I have found a New Bride.
See, I was ready to be married. My soul had expanded, and was ready to be stretched further by the negotiations of partnership. Upon the cancellation, my heart plummeted, threatening to pull the fabric of space-time back to a collapsed grimace of torture and self-agony. The void was built of absence, within my ready-to grow soul. Rather than return, I decided to fill that void.
I found a New Bride.
In the next two weeks, I had two propositions. Both, from outsiders, urgently needing citizenship. One has a child. One is a loner. Both, the substance of fantasy: two of the most stunning, fabulously sexy women I have ever seen. One Japanese-Hawaiian. The other, a Romanian who looks and sounds Italian and is called
So which did I choose?
Neither:
I found myself a Better Bride
Tomorrow I am going to Church. I will walk in, silently. The room will quiet; I will ready myself. And after the processional, my Bride will enter. Down the aisle. Step by step. I have been preparing, for a long time. She will take Her place next to me. We will begin Our vows.
Tomorrow, I marry God.
* * *
When I text message God, I don’t have to wait for Her to get back to me.
Or worry that my message is obsequious, intrusive. Her response is instantaneous, and She’s always glad to hear from me.
I am not alone driving home anymore. My New Bride is with me. The moment I drift lost in my own little world, I look over and there She is, hand on my arm. Reassuring, knowing. That when we get home, we are going to make mad, passionate love.
The thrill of marriage is in the sharing. Someone who will excite at the discoveries I made, the wonders I find. I celebrate Scrubbing Bubbles(TM), and any new products or methods that make cleaning the bathroom that much quicker and easier, and more likely to get done. I think my partner at the time had a hard time sharing my excitement. But my Bride is right there, knowing just how cool it is.
If She tells me to slow down, take a rest, She doesn’t do this from a judging distance. She has sidled next to me, and I rest my head.
God can feel the depth of the music I found, tune into the layers of syncopation, mastering, genius of my new CD. The value is not lost on Her. She’s right there with me.
God has Her own shit going on, a life outside our marriage. And she’s dedicated, involved. She gets her shit done in a day. But she’s got it under control. She fixes it to be home when I pull in, if she wasn’t already working with me. She helps me take a load off, then we share about our day.
She’s confident, but realistic, about how things went. And some days, it wasn’t the greatest. But I believe in what She’s doing. And when She’s preoccupied with the pain and suffering that slipped into the world that day, we cry together on the kitchen floor.
She doesn’t do the laundry for me. But better, She does it with me. She helps me see the joy of sharing every step of the path.
And She knows how I like to be touched. With warmth, confidence. She could pleasure me – and Sometimes she does. But in Her touch there is love, which warms through my flesh and heals my soul. Every night from now on, we will share deep, warm, luscious kisses.
Someday, to keep me fresh and alive, She will invite another woman to share our bed. She’s not a jealous Lover, so long as I’m keeping Her first. So she will find a beautiful, amazing lover to come and soak up some of the Love We share, and together we will have an incredible threesome.
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