And I married him.
I wore exquisite Spanish lace in ivory. He wore an ivory suit and a pink cummerbund, and he looked truly fine in it, I must say. His cheeks were as pink as the roses in my bouquet, and my bottom lip quivered while he looked magnificently at ease.
On our honeymoon, I read this to him from the Song of Songs:
My beloved is white and ruddy.
The best among ten thousand.
His eyes are like doves beside the water brooks,
washed with milk, mounted like jewels.
His cheeks are like a bed of spices with towers of perfumes.
His lips are like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
His hands are like rings of gold set with beryl.
His body is like ivory work overlaid with sapphires.
His legs are like pillars of marble set on sockets of fine gold.
His appearance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His mouth is sweetness; yes, he is altogether lovely.
This is my beloved, and this is my friend,
daughters of Jerusalem.
And it's still true. Aaaahhh. I am blessed among women.
No, truly. Some kind souls will say he's blessed too, but I'm the really lucky one.
He brought me to believe in that elusive and legendary thing called True Love. And by loving me so fervently and well, so self-sacrificially and generously, he helped me more deeply understand that higher and finer form of True Love, God's.
I do believe that one of the deep purposes of marriage and all its many kinds of bliss is that particular understanding.
So, for all of you still single and still searching and yet hopeful, I pray you will be abundantly blessed with both True Loves, that of God and that of a wonderful spouse.