The Best Thing

Of all of the pictures of Stephanie and I, I think that this is probably my favorite one of all. There's something in it that, for me at least, captures a bit of the innocence and simplicity that marks so much of our courtship.
I left Stephanie's house in prayer, like so many times before, wandering back over the night in my mind, asking for clarity and the grace to recognize and avoid bad decisions and the wisdom to choose the good ones. The drive home from her family's place is nearly always like this; I know that one day my role as a husband is going to require way more wisdom than I currently have. And I know I'm going to make some mistakes along the way. I know it. But that doesn't mean that I can't prepare now, can't start practicing and developing an attitude that defines my love by the degree of its sacrifice. And so I pray. And one of the things I try to always pray for is that I would chose what's best. Not what I want. Not what's even necessarily enjoyable. What's best.

As I drove farther on, my mind wandered to the Lord's prayer and the wording Jesus used when he gave it to his disciples. I can remember memorizing it as a child, embedding the "art"s and "thy name"s of the King James English in my mouth so thoroughly that it still feels strange reciting it any other way. Right around Sheridan and Stirling, it occured to me that there is no section in the prayer where Jesus prays for anyone's sick grandma. There are prayers for our daily bread and requests that we be delivered from bad things, but no real "Ask" section of the prayer, at least not in the way I understood most prayer requests. For a minute, I wondered why this was.
Fortunately, I've been reading Dallas Willard's The Divine Conspiracy, so I was able to remember that Jesus is brilliant, and he chose his words on purpose (by the way, if you haven't read it, you should stop reading this blog and go buy his book. He's way smarter than I am).
I'm sure that this information has probably been around forever, but it means something to me because it didn't come to me directly from another person, so it feels special in a way. Jesus prayed that the will of the Father would be done on earth as it is in heaven, that his range of effective will would overcome our tiny kingdoms. If I've got brains in my head that still work, I have to realize that the best thing that could ever happen to me or anyone else is the breaking through of God's Kingdom. In that moment, I realized that I could be as poetic and eloquent as I wanted to be to try to put words to how much I have fallen completely in love with this woman, but it could all be trumped by a simple, "Father, may your will be done in her life as it is in heaven," because nothing is better in this life or the next than to know God.
Which makes me feel really good, because it means that Christ in his mercy has made it possible for me to really love Stephanie in the best way possible; by following and knowing and loving him first.
I don't have to be stronger than that guy, or wittier than that other guy, or funnier than him, or even better looking than any of them to be a great boyfriend. All that it takes to pursue the best relationship, and more importanly, the best life possible, is faith and trust in the Savior who makes it possible to know the Father.
Every poet, every Casanova, every mac daddy playa, trumped by the unstoppable love of Christ. Is that neat or what?