For the eighth time, I've deleted the first paragraph of this post and thrown my hands up at all my pathetic attempts. Here's the simple, earth shattering truth: Justin warms away the frost. How else could I tell you the profound, kinetic effect he wields. His influence, his love, his incredible humor, his laid-back disposition, his intense intellect, and his fiery devotion to The Lord magnetize my neutral heart. With him, I am confident (imagine!), care-free, joyful, excited, hopeful, and increasingly content.
God gave me great mercy, even while I was rebellious and uninterested in him: he gave me Justin. He has changed everything. Everything. No really, everything. Like Christ's love toward the church, Justin loves me regardless of me (even despite of me). He loves his family and friends deeply, is incredibly devoted, never gives up, never despairs, never abandons. He pursues! THANK GOD for that, since I've always been a runner.
Justin poured deep, vibrant saturation in my grey landscape. He gave me a level of joy I never dreamed to be possible!
Justin, I could never deserve, earn, or repay the precious gift of your love. I love you, mon Cher, so deeply, desperately, jealously, endlessly! You've given me my best friend, my best playmate, my best confidant, my favorite critic, my wise advisor, my two beautiful sons. You've taught me how to forgive--others and myself--how to open my home and heart to all. Best of all, you helped me see Christ's beauty clearly for the first time in my life.
It seems to me, to myself, that no man was ever before to any woman what you are to me--the fullness must be in proportion, you know, to the vacancy...and only I know what was behind--the long wilderness without the blossoming rose...and the capacity for happiness, like a black gaping hole, before this silver flooding. Is it wonderful that I should stand as in a dream, and disbelieve--not you--but my own fate?
Was ever any one taken suddenly from a lampless dungeon and placed upon the pinnacle of a mountain, without the head turning round and the heart turning faint, as mine do? And you love me more, you say? Shall I thank you or God? Both, indeed, and there is no possible return from me to either of you! I thank you as the unworthy may…and as we all thank God. How shall I ever prove what my heart is to you? How will you ever see it as I feel it? - Elizabeth Barrett
Je t'aime, mon cher.