After having my revelation, I kinda got stuck.  Ok, great, that's what I am supposed to do as a Christian, but now what?  I had no idea where to go with it, and therefore I didn't for a few days.  But much like anything else that God leads you toward, He wouldn't let me forget it. 

The first verse I thought of was one of my favorites about love.  From the Bible's own little romance novel, "My beloved is mine, and I am his" Song of Solomon 2:16.  I have always thought of this verse, as I am sure many others have - at face value.  It is written about two people in love, but what if we look at it in a different way.  What if it we look at this verse to describe our love relationship with our God.  Or, my God.  That's a comforting thought to me.  I have always thought of myself as a child of God and belonging to Him, but in the way that everyone else in the world belongs to Him too.  What if I look at this as a one on one personal relationship?  What if I am His and He is mine in a more singular way?  The way two people are when they're in love, hopelessly and soley devoted only to each other? 

This opens up a whole new avenue for me.  An avenue that involves putting all my focus into loving my God first, because He is loving me first. (I know that according to Christian principals, that should be my first priority, but lets be serious.  How many of us with spouses and children and jobs and hobbies are really successful at this?  Really?)  For me, it's hard to put my number one focus on something so far, far away in the clouds that is also watching all the rest of the entire world at the same time. But someone that belongs to me, someone that loves me first above all else, someone that I can call "mine," - I can focus on that.  Who couldn't?  I can be a better wife, mother, and person in general for the sake of the One that loves me more than anything else. 

Begin at the Beginning

I had an epiphany worth sharing.  Not a life-shattering, the world is ending epiphany, just one worth sharing.  Before I can tell you that though, I have to start at the beginning. 

I am married, sometimes happily, to a wonderful man.  We met in college and our low-key casual relationship has led to a mortgage and almost one year old child, two cars and two dogs, and many weekends traveling to see all the in-laws.  We've had a lot of fun over the past 8 years, had many adventures and even more arguments.  We are not what most people would probably consider compatible.  We are very different, but that has worked for us, at least sometimes.  We don't pretend to be perfect or always in love or deeply connected soul mates or anything else that the secular world makes you believe you should be.  We are two people working together to make the business of our family run as smoothly as possible.  We love each other and we share a love for our son and our family and friends.  We try to have as much fun together as we can and, whenever we run across our sense of adventure in the back of a closet, buried under piles of to-do lists, we make the most of it we can.  We support each other unconditionally.  We try to be the best friends we can be to each other everyday.  It's not a storybook romance, but as far as I can see, we might have a pretty healthy, realistic outlook on marriage, especially to be this early in the game. 

The problem comes, not with the afore mentioned information, but with the fact that I am a helpless, overly dramatic romantic.  I love being in love.  I love roses and serenades and walking in the rain or on the beach or anywhere that romantic moments should always happen.  I want the guy that knows what to say and when to say it (he really exists, right?!) and I want him to be perfectly content staring deeply into my eyes instead of watch every football game on television.  I want the husband that does things for me because he wants to, not because I asked, twelve times.  I want to come home to a surprise, and not one that I have to find a way to clean up.  I need to be in love.

So, back to my epiphany.  Last Saturday, after running errands with the baby in tow while my husband watched football, I came home a little irritated.  He left to get something, who knows what, and I continued on with the job of being a wife. I was telling myself that it wasn't my fault I wanted something my husband couldn't give me, it's just the way I'm made.  It's ok if we didn't get it right the first try, but I need to be in love.  Mid-emptying the dishwasher, mid-baby screaming right in my ear, mid-what on earth am I going to eat for lunch, wait, am I going to eat lunch today, mid-is the really my life today, a voice spoke to me.  Not a loud booming voice, which would have been needed to be louder than the baby, but that still, small quite voice that you never expect.  It said, "Fall in love with your God."  Wow. I am a Christian and have been for most of my life, but I don't know if I've even been in love with God. Maybe that's what I'm missing, not something vital to my earthly marriage, but vital to my eternal relationship with my God. 

I don't really know where to start, and it may be a slow go, but I would love it if you would join me in this new journey.