Thursday, January 28, 2010

this marriage

Right now, I am sitting cross-legged in our breakfast nook. The sun is showing her first sliver, and I am halfway through my first cup of coffee--black, without sugar. That is exactly how I like it, especially when I eat peanut butter toast, like I am right now.

Across from me, there is an empty coffee cup and residual peanut butter and sticky crumbs on a square white plate--N. eats his toast with honey, and he just left for work. These times are the sweetest times: when N.'s alarm goes off every morning, he rolls over, throwing his long arm across me and says something like "idonwannaaaaaa!" or "wanna makeout?" and I laugh. He knows that this is the only way I can make the transition into waking life, especially when it's before the sun.

We lay in our bed for a few minutes and usually make up morning songs about what ever we have to do that day. When we are both good and awake, N. takes a shower, and I shuffle downstairs, smile at (and sometimes hug) our Cuisinart Grind and Brew, and make a half pot of some of the blackest goodness you'll ever see. Then I make two pieces of peanut butter toast (honey for N.), grab a bible & our celtic daily prayer book and wait for that handsome man to make his first put-together appearance of the day. I love getting to see him first.

Marriage, week three. I am so fulfilled. God shows Himself so beautifully in the oneness that is two of His beloved's.

We pray together often; it is almost as if we can't help it. The Lord's hand is so apparent in our lives. This house, that wedding day, those friends, our families, that honeymoon, everything. Every perfect gift truly is from above, we see.

We had a Jewish wine ceremony on our wedding day, in lieu of a traditional Christian communion, where we drank from three cups symbolizing joy, sorrow and unity. N. drank from the first two cups, given to him by our pastor, and then passed them to me. The last cup, though, N. filled himself to overflowing. I could cry all over again, seeing him pour the wine into our glass until the red ran over--cascading down the sides and onto our communion table. He drank from the cup and passed it to me. I will never forget those moments.

During this wine ceremony, we played "This Marriage" arranged by Eric Whitacre. This song was what we've been praying over our marriage--and we see, daily, that He is faithful as we bear our fruit.

"May these vows and this marriage be blessed.
May it be sweet milk,
this marriage, like wine and halvah.
May this marriage offer fruit and shade
like the date palm.

May this marriage be full of laughter,
our every day a day in paradise.
May this marriage be a sign of compassion,
a seal of happiness here and hereafter.

May this marriage have a fair face and a good name,
an omen as welcomes the moon in a clear blue sky.

I am out of words to describe
how spirit mingles in this marriage."


  1. I'm so blessed sister. May the Lord do all that and more.

    Sad reality? When I read the word milk all I could think about was my lactating self. Call me when reality hits. It's glorious too. Just different. :)

  2. Beautiful! I am so happy for you and your new husband lady:) I hope that God blesses each day with something new to be joyful about!

  3. Uh, I love this. And had I read this earlier, I would have had your BLACK COFFEE waiting for you at the office.