I watched him pedaling her through the streets and then I could not stop thinking of him. I prayed for him and wept for him and then prayed again. One of those few true souls who will bring a smile to your face and a simultaneous tear to your eye ~ pain and joy intermingling with one another, coexisting as one ~ searing pain giving rise to her sister, abiding joy.
And somehow in that 3:23 minute I had fallen in love.
Love lived out in purity is a rare sight indeed ~ hands calloused with time and toil, layered with love and loyalty. Calloused hands that gently care for his broken bride.
"For love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in the sight of all . . . But action love is labour and fortitude . . ."
~ Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers of Karamazov
This call to love, this action love is certainly arduous duty.
Action love is surely dreadful and harsh indeed ~ to minute by minute lay calloused hands about a work for a broken bride who has forgotten her goodly groom. Arduous duty indeed.
Yet another tear slides down my cheek and He silently asks me a question ~ "Why had this pure soul so gripped your soul?"
I do not know.
"This goodly groom who places a lovely crown upon his broken bride ~ this broken bride who does not rightly know that she wears a crown of His royalty. She can not know, she can not understand, she can not remember as her goodly groom pedals hard and bears the weight of His unknowing bride. And Godly Groom carries the weight of the world on His broad shoulders and He smiles a smile of pure love for His broken bride and a single tear of pure joy carried on the waters of His pure pain slides down His glorious cheek. And His unsuspecting bride rides broken, shattered; shattered into pieces that will be made whole by her Godly Groom as He pedals her through the streets.
And in triumphant procession He carries His broken bride made whole by pure love, He carries her ~ His royal bride. He carries her proudly, victoriously, gently, joyfully and lovingly.
My broken bride, does this not sound familiar to you?" He silently asks.
Oh yes, of course, now I see ~ this goodly groom and his broken bride ~ this is surely You and me.
And You gently set me before You and lay crown upon my head and You proudly pedal Your broken bride who too, so often forgets her Godly Groom Who bears her weight upon His endless shoulders. And we ride ~ broken bride and Heavenly Guide ~ we ride.
Run a race today? Yes, certainly, but maybe my running is rightly named riding and all of my striving is more of a resting as my Godly Groom pedals His broken bride down streets of gold.
So, I ride on. Who bears the weight of your world?
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