Now That I See You

I’m pretty sure I fall into the category of “hopeless romantic” (so much so that I just had to refrain from using the phrase “hopeFUL romantic”).  I’ve believed in the epic quality of love since I was old enough to watch Beauty and the Beast.  I’ve been a sucker for film score music since before I knew what a French horn was or how a suspended chord works.  And as I’ve grown, and watched people live and love well, my theology of marriage has come to include a belief that God can work through a couple in some pretty amazing ways.  Since my dating experience amounts to a grand total of, well, none, I don’t have any personal evidence to test my theories, but I’ve seen enough to recognize that with a lot of work and faith and prayer and selflessness, love can be a game-changer.  I’m not ready for that now, but I’m hopeful that someday I’ll be entrusted with a relationship, to care for and nurture and be shaped and changed by.  In the meantime, I’m just a little more aware of emotional, romantic things I encounter in my world than the average human being.  

Historically, Disney movies do not promote healthy views of love or marriage or even family life, so I know some will scoff when my next sentence begins, but stick with me.  Tonight, I watched the movie Tangled with my brother, who is visiting from San Diego and apparently had not made time in his busy school schedule to view this treasure.  I’m pretty much in love with Zachary Levi, who did the voice of the main male character, and I don’t mind Mandy Moore as much as I used to (she did the voice of the main female character), so I was paying attention to the duet they sing three-quarters of the way through the movie.  The line that caught my attention (between the epically awesome French horn lines) was “All at once, everything is different- now that I see you.”  I’m not sure I believe in that moment, but I’ve come to believe that a big part of love is really seeing the person you claim to love.  Not seeing the person you want them to be, or the person they’re presenting to the world, but actually seeing them, and doing so in such a way that they know you see them.  One of the things I’m profoundly aware of in this incredibly single stage of my life is that there is no one here to really see me, and nobody whom I am allowed to really see.  I’m deeply thankful to be single right now- I’m having wonderful adventures and rocking sometimes-crazy and/or completely-unstable schedules and all sorts of things that are hard to do when you’re sharing life with someone- but I’m praying that God is preparing my eyes to do some good seeing someday.  Because I long to be seen (known) so deeply, I know that I must be prepared to do the same for someone else, and I’m anticipating the joy that will come through that process (and the hard work and pain- don’t worry, I haven’t been completely Disney-fied).