Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: AS EASY AS PIE (12/01/16)
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TITLE: Boring Romantics | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mike Hill
12/08/16 -
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Not being into long beards, tapered fades, and high and tights, he was uncomfortable on Pinterest. Spending time among all those wedding ideas, David mutated into a slobbering oaf.
Getting married was as easy as pie they said! “Easy as pie,” replied the local rifleman (as the story goes). “…shoot first and draw the circles afterward.” David speculated that is akin to dying first and then circling all the precious moments to remember. The seductive appeal of a classic non-sequitur fallacy if he ever saw one.
"Whoever coined “easy as pie” should be hung up by their toenails, covered in honey and left for the ants." David recanted somewhat, thinking that perhaps that sentiment was harsh and before social media. Regardless, he needed to escape to think this through.
The two muses, romance, and adventure are always sneaking into one’s existence. Boldly popping up unexpectedly, they challenged David. Without planning, he disappeared with the suddenness and completeness of a gunshot.
Finding the lost is the livelihood of the bloodhound, or the other agency of skillful sleuthing, the girlfriend. Tracking through rocky labyrinths and following the trail of restless waters is not expected of someone so soft and demure as Ashlyn. However, she was resolute! Finding the stray, Ashlyn didn't drag him back to reality. She allowed him to embrace his fleeting freedom while she embarked on her own personal rustic sortie.
Wild, ceaseless waters flow through their souls. Heaven’s essence blends reality with whimsy. Emotions overflow. At different times and places, but always in God’s time, each marvels before snow-capped mountains kneeling before boundless heavens. Gasp at moonbeams caressing tireless waterfalls. Observe humble bumblebees attending beckoning wildflowers. Experience the sun kissing everything with its warm abundance.
Saint Augustine said, “Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.” Love is not just something thought up by jewelers so they could sell rings. It is not entirely emotion, and it is not just the promises of your beloved. It is the remnant after all the ardor and romance has burned away.
At the appointed time, they rendezvous. The evening light sparkles like honey in Ashlyn's hair; the sunset glows upon her cheeks. The bended-knee proposal wasn’t the scripted and taped extravaganza he planned - the kind that goes viral and you one-up your friends. They now both knew that the real romantics are the boring ones, the ones who share their hearts with one another. The darkening horizon suddenly seemed paved with golden stones.
She knows it’s not how a man proposes that makes him a deserving catch. It’s how he pledges to lay down his life that marks him a worthy husband. The real act of marriage takes place in the heart, not in the ballroom or church or even on the courthouse steps. The goal is to not only set their focus on one another but Christ also.
Real love will always make one suffer. David, now knows it is a commitment. No “almost” or “partial” commitment will suffice. It is about whether he is willing to get down on his knees, lowering himself, to sacrifice for and serve Ashlyn. He pledges to let Christ not only lead and Lord over his life but also his marriage.
Realizing that the magic isn't in the hitching, it's in staying married, he ponders. “Anybody can get married. All that is needed is a few dollars, a license and someone to perform the ceremony.”
Love is gritty. Love, lit by Christ’s light, is about forgiveness for a toilet seat left up, or proudly standing in line to buy feminine unmentionables because she feels rotten. Love is about happily sharing age marks and wrinkles, yet still tenderly and breathlessly holding hands. It’s taking out the garbage without being asked. Ultimately, it stands over a grave and wipes away tender years of liquid memories from one’s cheek. Love is a beautiful thing – two lives touching and growing together, growing deeper with each tick of that slow, methodical and boring clock!
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I like what was stated in that part of the writing.
I can see how Pinterest would not interest too many men;
it would be like taking them clothes shopping.