After a full day of appointments and impulse purchases – hair re-dyed red and nails painted hazy, I slipped the Marshall’s deal of a dress over my head. The cheap red wedges that have laid dormant and dusty in my closet since the days before toddler chasing became most of me felt like summer and a touch of sass on my feet. Jewelry draped and a flower in my freshly auburned hair for good measure, I found a touch of those butterflies I used to get when he showed up at my front door as a girl and an almost woman. They felt something like comfort and anticipation all snuggled up and giggling shamelessly, eager to share a little bit of their happy.
I moved through the remainder of my maker of our home responsibilities – half sweating to death in my new impulse buy dress and willing the whiniest part of me to stay silent. The hooligan child within me joined my own hooligan offspring in a wild, excited dance around our living room – celebrating the bliss of a thing anticipated. We doled out quick and genuine goodbyes to that girl who has brought so much life into our home and very nearly hop skipped to the mini-van we swore we would never own.
We digested God’s Word Truths over Thai food with nary an awkward moment of silence. Moments of silence may have popped in, but they were so natural that I cannot be sure whether they were real or not. I marveled at the freckles on his nose and the green in his eyes. He flirted without abandon and said he meant it with a wink or two.
His pockets emptied for my Junior Mints craving and a photo booth experience, I felt valued and loved and worth it. And sixteen again. I so hope he felt all of his favorite things from me, too. The night sauntered by along the waves of the sultry, summer heat and we sauntered right along with it, savoring the richness of alone and together – the two things that started it all. And I believe we were able to shake off the sweats of roommate love and slip into the more exciting digs of slap crazy about each other for a little while because of genuine prayers from the deepest places of my heart.
He hears those sorts of things, you know? And He wants us to remember what’s so great about each other. I’m just grateful He gives me sense enough to open the door when it comes a’knockin’, the remembering, I mean.
And tomorrow or the next day or the next when we’ve slipped back into our sweats, I’ll glance at those photo booth pictures and remember that there IS something more exciting in our closet – even though in this season we don’t wear it quite as often as we used to.