(Side note: I know it's been a minute since you've heard from me. I am trying to finish up a book for Craig and I've been conducting a wife prep curriculum class for women on Facebook that has been wearing me out! But, I am about to post a few things that I am praying will be of service to you in some way. Today marks the end of a seven-week "Past Fast" that I was on. I will be posting that in a minute, but I first wanted to share a letter that I wrote myself awhile back.  God has me in a "move forward" season and I don't think I'm the only one who needs to do so in this stage of life. Don't knock doing this exercise for yourself. It's amazing what you see when you put your life to pen and paper. Hazy things often become VERY CLEAR.)

Baby Girl,

I know you’re nervous.

The man you’ve loved since ever knowing what love was, you will be seeing in just a couple of days---and at a wedding, on his birthday, no less.

Oh, how life is full of so many ironies and surprises.  Back when you were 19 and giddy (or was it delusional?), you and “he” used to tease his cousin about how selfish he was, how immature he was, how “so-not-husband-potential” he was.  And now, 14 years later, in a race to the altar, he has beat you both to the winning line, marrying a woman who is tall in stature (literally) and character.

But, that’s not what tops the list of ironies or surprises when it comes to this situation.  What you really didn’t expect was that you two would be attending these nuptials apart.  Sure, “he” will be on the altar, but as a groomsman and not the groom.  Yes, you will be walking down the aisle, but not in white---lavender, and not as the bride, but a guest.

To add insult to injury, after not speaking for over ten years, two years ago, he reached out to apologize for writing a nightmare ending to your storybook romance. Oh and Baby Girl, what did you do?  Instead of closing the chapter of this passionately tumultuous novella, novel, book series, you pulled out another page of your heart and started dreaming, wishing, and hoping again.  A two-hour luncheon turned into a 24-month reunion tour of “The Way We Were”.  What was supposed to be an “I’m sorry” translated into “I still love you and I always will.”

Baby Girl, until you heard it again, you didn’t even realize that was something you had so deeply longed for since the last time you heard his voice.  Like a woman in search of the right shoe, you tried on the words of others, but nothing else quite fit.  Oh, but you always seemed to grow a deafened ear to what usually followed those sentiments: “I can’t be what you want, need or deserve.  This won’t work.”

I know you’re disappointed.  Baby Girl, I hate to say it, but I’m a little disappointed in you.  Not because you took a chance on love; that’s what living life is all about, but because you were supposed to have known better by now.  You are no longer the freshman in college with an undeclared major who earned her PhD in life experience by giving your virginity to a young man who had given his away years before knowing that you existed.  You are now a celebrated author and speaker specializing in the very thing that with “him”, you still seem to battle with: Self-esteem, self-respect, self-control.

Yeah, Baby Girl, I know what you are about to say.  All is fair in love and war, right?  The thing is, when it comes to “him”, I’m not so sure if you’ve ever known the difference between the two.  Just think about it.  Whenever you were with “him”, did you feel protected (love) or exposed (war)?  Did he meet your needs (love) or take whatever he could get (war)?  Did he celebrate you (love) or harm you (war)?  Did you trust him to stay (love) or fear he would leave (war)?  Was he your lover (love) or sparing partner (war)?

Now tell me, Baby Girl, ten years later, when it comes to these questions, what answers have really changed?  Looks to me like you are still nursing wounds, healing scars, resetting a heart that has been broken in the same place twice.  The only difference is that this time, it’s gonna take that much longer to heal.

I hate to say it, but your gut, your conscience, I told you not to let him in.  You are simply too beautiful, too exceptional, too worthy for that now.  But as a lover of music and movies, sometimes you get carried away by getting caught up in the hype of it all.  To be honest, that’s something that I love and even envy about you---your love for love.  But not with “him”.  Not again.  Not now and in this way.  Not because he’s not a “good guy”, but because he’s simply not good enough.  You’ve come too far and he, in many ways, is right where you left him two and ten years ago.

I know that doesn’t change the fact that your stomach is full of butterflies and your heart is beating faster with every passing moment leading up to Saturday.  Even with “first love”, “first abortion”, “first heartbreak” and miles of secrets and memories between you, because he either never had the money or made the time, ironically and surprisingly, there is still a “first time” left to be shared: You seeing him in a tux.  Baby Girl, I never said he wasn’t fine. But you can admire fine from afar. 

But he is not the point.  What I’m really writing to say is that you have nothing to be nervous about.  I know you think fate must be playing a cruel joke to invite you to the one and probably only wedding where the two of you will be in attendance, but Baby Girl, this is a date with destiny.  You need to go to this wedding and mourn and then bury your fantasy of being his wife.  You need to go down the aisle walking first towards him and then turning away to your seat.  It’s symbolic of the direction your life will be taking now.  And, as much as you are worrying about how he will look in a suit, you need to take pity on how he will feel when he sees your voluptuous silhouette in your vintage gown, silver heels and butterfly jewelry.  One thing he has been consistent about is telling you how beautiful you are and he’s right. 

This time, though, after all has been said and done, he will experience yet another “first”.

This time, ironically, and surprisingly, he will get something he needs so desperately from you whether either one of you realizes it or not.  He needs see what love---true, pure, committed love looks like just one more time before you both part ways; not out of spite, but so he can have a standard set for when he makes the attempt at real love again; something that is hard to come by, just like you, Baby Girl.

So, get out your grape sorbet nail polish and lip gloss with that hint of plum sheen.  It’s of no coincidence that while his cousin will be in black and his wife will be in white, you will be in shades of purple---the color of royalty.

It’s their wedding, “his” birthday, but Baby Girl, it’s your graduation.  You all have crossed the finish line. The race is over.  And you, too, have won.

I love you.