10:37 P.M. Nineteen. Heavy eyes. Freshly washed face, climbing into my cold sheets I can’t help but think about what you’re doing. I do this a lot. Like a lot, a lot. I can’t help but think that one day 10:37 will be so much more than just 10:37. It might be 10:37- hailing a cab with you in the New York City rain or maybe 10:37- the movie is over, but you were snoring way before the credits rolled or maybe even 10:37- the baby is crying. Again. Whatever it is, I can’t wait to do 10:37 with you.
Welcome to my brain.
What do you look like? What makes you tick? These are the little things that keep me up at night. Where do we meet? Have I met you? I’d like to think I have, I thought I had, but what do I know? Actually, scratch that, I hope we haven’t, or that if we have, you have some weird thing for messy girls who don’t yet own checkbooks and live solely off of the main food group that is Frosted Flakes. They’re great ya know.
I wish I could snap my fingers and have you here with me already, but I’m waiting. Though, I’ll be honest, I haven’t always waited- or I should say- haven’t waited well. There have been boys before you, emphasis on boys, as in not men. As in boys who could have given a frat hop less about defending my honor or leaving me to pick up the shards of my once so naive and fully intact heart.
But they are not totally to blame. I have made my own decisions, many without you in mind. Decisions that have left wounds and stretch marks on the very essence of who I once was. I am writing this from a season of healing, as wounds become scars. I pray that you are given the grace and understanding to love me in every form of myself, realizing that my past is just that- past- and you are my future.
I am praying for you. Everyday. That even right now you are being shaped and molded into a man of character and integrity. Into a man who will leave, not only memories, but a legacy behind. A man who, in the face of trial, when babies get sick, when our son has really done it this time, when the money just isn’t there, will be on his knees fighting hell for our family. I pray that whatever season you are in, that you are taking notes, allowing the Lord to grow you and reveal Himself to you. I pray that you are a pursuer of the presence of Christ, that in your stillness He would speak wisdom, discernment and vision over your life. That He will raise you up to be a David, a spiritual leader for our home, loving as He loved the church.
I hope that by the time I find you, you are already in love. That you have found the same madly unconditional, wildly all-consuming love that I have found in my Jesus. That you have experienced grace upon grace, and that it is that same love and that same grace that leads you to me.
Love you soon.