My heart beat faster as I began to reach for her. There she sat on my shelf, untouched for some time. Within her binding she held on to a sweet recollection of time-- a time when my heart had first found love, a love so deep and pure.
The tattered pages, the smell of a worn and used vessel, the markings of years past... she seemed to beat in sync with my heart. The Words that had spoken deeply to me are the same words that have spoken for thousands of years; the ancient cry she holds continues to beckon broken vessels such as myself.
After a chapter in my life drew to an end, she had become too frayed to be rebound. All her wisdom began to tatter and fall out, followed by a Prophet. These lovelies hang out beyond her borders and hold on with a temporary adhesive. I shelved her with sorrow and pardoned her as I received a new, crisp binding of papers with her same proclamations of love.
I looked at her and my heart felt as though I had escaped back into those first years with my Lover. He had taken me down ancient paths of suffering, jealous pursuit and redemption. His love letter to me quickened my heart. Oh how He had breathed life into me. So personal, my love letter has become-- a living Word that draws me into His heart. I must eat and drink from His Words.
I looked at my new love letter. She, too, is becoming a memory and providing deeper revelation of His great love. But those first feelings of deep adoration-- and oh how I was faint with love-- how they surface when I hold her in my hands and He reminds me of those first years.
Milk and honey from my Lover. Whispers and etchings of His love. Our love grows deeper still. Those first years were only the beginning of a lifelong love that sends its roots deeper and deeper beyond measure.
A new chapter, He writes, with more love letters; He holds my hand and we continue in this adventure-- together. Inseparable.
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