This Wonderful Thing Called Love


I had imagined
falling in love to be easy. Fireworks. Total, harmonic chemistry. A gentle
waltz from friendship into marriage.

Actually, it’s a
lot like doing the chicken dance—awkward and embarrassing, exposing my lack of
rhythm and grace. Some days I am a pure bubble of joyful, optimistic emotion;
other days I am a frantic body of fear asking questions like:

Am I loving enough?

Are we walking in
the right direction?

God, why won’t you
just answer me?

Typically, the days
pass without my Father parting the skies and addressing my problems
face-to-face. So I fret and fuss and throw mini panic attacks. I get cranky.
Worried. Exhausted. (Ah me… doesn’t
Dalton deserve a most glorious award? I think so
.) J

And then something resembling
a quiet, soft breeze flows over my frightened, in-love heart. Rest quietly in Me. Trust in My unending
love. Rejoice in My leading. I’ve got

Dear, sweet friends,
sometimes we don’t have all the answers. However, we do have the promise of a
Heavenly Father Who loves us enough to send His only Son to die in our place.
We have a God Who will lead His people, even silly, round twenty-three year
olds, in His ways. I serve a God Who knows all about romance, dreams, and
love—and He is not letting me wade about on my own. Instead, He’s guiding my
blind, fragile heart toward holiness, joy, and His will.

I’m just so
thankful He sent me this blonde headed man to help the process.  

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