So yeah, about last night? It was exactly 30 spins around the sun since this lanky farm boy first asked out this quaking-shy farm girl to a youth Christmas banquet.
When he came to the door, my dad thought he was all of 12.
I stood more than an inch taller than him in my patent pumps, awkward hand prints on my black velvet dress from my own sweaty palms.
Neither one of us had ever been on a date before — and neither one of us would ever end up dating anyone else.
On our way to that Christmas banquet, with the heat cranked too high in his brother’s borrowed VW and the pine scent of the car freshener making me sorta green, we kinda got turned around and completely lost.
Last night, the farm boy asked me out all over again — and drove me down that very same dark winter road we got lost on as nervous 16 yr-old kids.
I looked over at him:
Marriage is the art of finding each other, though you’ve lost each other a thousand times.
Every day you lose the person you are, and I am, because this is what is means to grow.
You are becoming and I am becoming, and somehow we have to keep turning and coming to each other.
The whole of marriage turns on The Turn.
The Turns come tender and small and can’t afford to be missed:
It’s you turning to mention what happened today and me turning to really listen to what you’re saying between the words, and it’s me turning to brave a bit of my heart and you turning to make me seen.
If we miss each other’s turns — we eventually lose us.
We almost have.
It’s never too late to make us-turns.
It’s never too late to say:
Though I hurt and feel burned, I will turn —
I will turn to you and tear down bits of the barriers I’ve built to protect my heart and I will turn even here and now into a place of meeting.
Because I’m waiting and watching for your Turns,
listening for the beat of your heart in all of the spaces in between things,
so when we feel lost and wandering alone, we can still turn,
and find ourselves safely home.
Driving down a road where we once were lost, you turned to me last night and you took my hand —
and I smiled and brimmed:
It’s always in The Turn that love is once again found.