Psalm 45:10-11, 13-15

Listen to me, O royal daughter; take heart to what I say. Forget your people and your homeland far away. For your royal husband delights in your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord. [...] The bride, a princess, waits within her chambers, dressed in a gown woven with gold. In her beautiful robes, she is led to the king, accompanied by her bridesmaids. What a joyful, enthusiastic procession as they enter the king's palace!

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

The other day something made me think of Romeo & Juliet and more not so quite obsession with it in my earlier years, before I knew I was a princess. Obsessed may be too strong of a word, but I was close. Someone could say one line of the play and I could finish the scene. No joke. There were posters and quotes covering my room. I even slept under a canopy that told me my love would some day come. I thought it made me look like Juliet. At least it made me feel that way. I would even do my hair the same way Claire Danes did in Romeo & Juliet, which earned me the nickname Juliet at school. I was proud of it.

I thought the pinnacle of all romance was Romeo and Juliet and Shakespeare. I was sure I would meet love with words of "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks" and a fury of powerful emotions. That the world would spin and moonlight would always remind me of my love. That I might be swept away in a whirlwind of passionate, everlasting romance. To hear the words, "Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again" would be the sweetest words. O, the young mind of a girl.

Somewhere along the years, the yearning for a Romeo and Juliet romance weaned. It may had something to do with the fact that I realized that they met, they wooed, they made an exchange of vows, and then they died....all within three days. Hmm...that sounds like a passionate, everlasting romance. Three days dead. That may have done it for me. I desired to spend more than three days with the love of my life. Three days, did they even know each other? They were teenagers speaking passionate words of love and lust fueled by their age and the tyranny of their feuding parents.

It was the unknown. I don’t know about you, but I want to be known by my love. Yes, it would be sweet to hear, "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks" but not at the expense of missing the heart of my lover. How empty it would be to look in his eyes and see my own desire, and not him? What is love but an expression of giving...a lasting covenant...a promise of sharing in life’s joys and sorrows...a fruitful delighting in each other... have that dead in three days just for the exchange of a few sweet words?

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