Rekindling the Fire

I went to two weddings this summer, weddings as different as the north and south, literally.  One was a genteel Florida country club wedding, overlooking a perfectly manicured golf course that smelled of freshly cut grass. The other was at a vineyard on Long Island, sophisticated and high-energy, and faintly smelling of fermenting wine and musty cellars.  The couples were on opposite polls, too. One could carry AARP cards if they chose; the other still held all-nighters with their college buddies. And yet as different as they were, the excitement, passion, and joy were constants.

And that got me to thinking about another kind of wedding, where the groom is invisible and the bride is a collective body, the body of Christ. And if we can compare the Church and Jesus to a bride and groom, so too can we compare their marriages. And this comparison can help us understand that peaks and valleys will occur in both.

I remember when I first came to the Lord.  Oh, the passion!  I wanted to tell everyone about Jesus.  And as a “newly wed” I eagerly extolled the virtues of my Beloved. I never tired of speaking about Him.  And because my love was a consuming flame, I tried to learn everything I could, what pleased Him, what didn’t.  I poured over the scriptures, prayed often, meditated on the Word, even rising early to do it. But that’s how it is when you’re in love.

Then one day I woke up and realized the honeymoon was over. It was gradual in coming.  In fact, I barely noticed it was happening at all. But I was spending less time in the Word. The things of this world had captured my time and heart. Busyness had set in.  Responsibilities and time constraints had stolen the fire.

Any marriage more than a few years old faces the struggle to balance job, responsibilities, and outside interests with that of maintaining a quality love relationship. And when too much world seeps in, when too much work or other pressures dampen the fire like a spewing garden hose, it’s time to rekindle it.  And the best lighter fluid is time. Oh, I know, this is nothing new or clever; just basic marriage 101. And though it may be basic, it’s not easy. Time is our one unrenewable commodity. We never seem to have enough of it.  But “seem” is the operative word here. Because the truth is we always make time for the things most important to us. And in this crazy, busy world, I need that reminder.  I need to remember that those things that are good can sometimes keep me from those that are best. After all, what’s more important than keeping the fires of love burning?

Until next week,

Sylvia Bambola