Uh oh, My Legs Aren't Shaved.

Yes, two friends out celebrating belated birthdays Saturday. Too. Much. Fun. And well, the other friend surprises me with a massage at a “place” she knows. And as I’m getting ready in the room, I am wondering how to overcome the played at the park, rode bikes with kids, sweaty, did not shave my legs today guilt. I admit it, I wasn’t planning on my legs being touched today. So here I am. I feel my legs in hope they are not that bad. Nope. Time slots booked, massages paid for, my cactus legs are getting massaged. And my dilemma is really: do I apologize for it, have masseuse avoid the legs entirely, or pretend they are shaved and enjoy amazingly-wonderful-gift. (I mean seriously, what is better than being relaxed, pampered, and lotioned for a whole hour?! My spell check doesn’t even recognize lotioned as a word. Clearly it is under used.) And as I lay there, sticking my face into the padded horseshoe face holder thing, I decided avoiding eye contact was really my best option. And from between the deep tissue and my brain, I realized that I was a sad state: lost somewhere between practical, functional, busy, tired and bleh.

I’m not sure where I had put my romance (possibly in the tub full of lingerie collecting dust under my bed?) Well, hopefully not, but it really needed reclaiming. And I think the space of romance that had been overcrowded with other things: babies, meals, dishes, it was dying, gasping for some air and light. I needed to pull it out from the laundry basket quick, lest it smell or wrinkle or both.  

And I'm at this point of day dreaming, wondering if romance is really necessary for a ten year old bride, or groom for that matter? Isn’t God’s love enough? Isn’t a companionship, daily “I love you” salutations—consistent, steady kind of love enough? After ten years, I’ve put Cinderella back on the shelf, I’m already living happily ever after. I’m not a new date. My wedding gift appliances are starting wear out after all.

I am jolted to reality. I feel the blue sheet unwrapping one of my less-than-smooth-legs. I couldn’t, really could not at least acknowledge the obvious. I apologize profusely. I suddenly feel like the old-don’t-care-married-lady right now, and I really hate this feeling. I miss rubbing a new shade of lipstick between my lips, pinching my cheeks and spraying perfume before he comes home.

So, all of this leaves me one choice: shave my legs immediately, well, practically speaking in my next shower. And all this is really leading me to seek out romance in the Bible, with Jesus, and with one other man, (the one I share a last name with.) My goal: something like “Dating for Married Dummies”, or 21 Days of Romance. Can I re-woo? It occurs to me, that after 10 years, we’ve thought of the obvious gestures. Do I know this man well enough to surprise him still? Can I find 21 gestures of romance that he will recognize as such if there’s no label attached? 

So this is me, from “Love Sonnets from God,”going on a love hunt of sorts though I’m no theologian.

Today I find this as unrusting the knowledge that God created more than one kind of love. He created Agapao and Phileo love and all their complexities.

Culture defines romantic love as an eros kind of love: eros meaning sexual desire. But this kind of love isn’t mentioned once in the Bible. Not even in Song of Solomon, (and I checked.) Song of Solomon is dripping with “H157” 'âhêb: to have affection for (sexually or otherwise): be loved, be lovely, be a lover. I can’t even type these words without a kind of sigh rising in my heart. That’s the word I was looking for. Side note: it’s used 195 times.

Deuteronomy 11:13-15  And if you will indeed obey my commandments that I command you today, to love ['âhêb: to have affection for] the LORD your God, and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul, he will give the rain for your land in its season, the early rain and the later rain, that you may gather in your grain and your wine and your oil. And he will give grass in your fields for your livestock, and you shall eat and be full.

God wants my affection. I want His. I want affection. I want to eat and be full
with it. I want to give God first, husband second, 'âhêb: my affection-- all my heart, all my
soul. I yearn to be loved, be lovely, be a lover. I said it out loud.

And the God I know, the God I love, He is lovely.

Psalm 50:2 Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God shines forth.

It’s easy to see Him as beautiful. But Jesus saw beauty here on earth too. He said of the

woman who broke perfume at His feet: "Leave her alone. Why do you trouble

her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.” (Matthew 26:10)

Gestures of affection were beautiful to Him. Perfume speaks romance. And romance isn’t practical or functional. Isn’t that what the disciples were upset at? You wasted perfectly good money? Romance is affection for affection’s sake, nothing less. Romance means 'âhêb: to be loved, be lovely, be a lover. And I think it’s allowed, even defended by Jesus. 

So I’m going to keep searching—for 20 more days of romance…

 

  My love sonnet from God today: Hearing His words, "She has done a beautiful thing to me." And praying that someday He could say this of me too.

 

Care to join me and romance your spouse too?

3 ideas for today: (And please share your good ones too)

Unexpected, weekday breakfast in bed.

Love notes written on the bottom of your child’s foot, to be discovered.

A snippet of a love song (Michael Buble anyone?) played into a phone message.