Love’s Legacy

I didn’t spend the evening gazing through candlelight into the eyes of my true love or curled up in the refuge of his arms while murmurs of love songs passed between us. Our table wasn’t filled with fine china or decorated with a dozen roses. It was filled with giggling children and drumming fingers, decorated with clumps of misplaced mashed potatoes and jiggling dots of spilled jello.

Red streamers dangled from the chandelier above the table and loud happy stories danced through the air as every child fought for talk time.  Dishes piled high. Fingers cleaned themselves on sleeves and hidden knees, the promise of more laundry. And as we catered to our small guests, I smiled over the din of daily life at the man who first took my hand when I was seventeen.

 God willing, we won’t spend every Valentines Day serving up jello cups and meatballs, but by the grace of God this evening that is exactly what we were blessed to do. How life has changed since our first Valentine’s day together. Our days are noisier. Messier. Richer. Fuller. More unpredictable. More unbelievable. More than we dreamed when we first scripted the story in our minds. God is writing a story that is far better.   Hallelujah!

Years ago I wrote this poem for Rob on Valentines Day and still today I delight in the picture of our growing old together. Ripened love. Reckless grace.

                                             The Legacy