Great Love Is Softened and Worn
Years ago I bought a pair of jeans. They fit my body so perfectly. These jeans have come with me everywhere. They are to my lower body what my mom’s comfort food is to my soul.
Over the years, these jeans have worn out. I have fixed the hem on them, as it kept dragging on the ground. Some parts got so thin that I had to mend them. But they are so lovely and comfy that I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out in favor of a new pair of jeans.
I have newer pairs of jeans that are more stylish, nicer looking. But nothing is more comfortable, more familiar, more comforting.
I have a shoulder bag, a beautiful leather bag, light brown in color. I bought it almost 20 years ago. I was a graduate student then, on a tight budget. This was at a going-out-of-business sale in a leather shop. It was $49. That was a lot of money to me then (and now). But it was lovely, and I thought I would use it everyday. I stared at it for ten minutes, then took the plunge and bought it. Few purchases have brought me more joy, more use.
I have taken this comfy bag with me around the world: Turkey, Morocco, Switzerland, England, France, Canada. Every lecture, every conference, my brown leather bag keeps me company. It is a comfortable travel companion. In it: my laptop, passport, some gum, a book or two.
With the years, the old leather has worn out more. As it wears out, it gets softer. It is comforting to touch everywhere. It’s almost like suede now. Some parts are darker, more worn out, but the darker parts add a lovely character to the bag.
I get so many compliments on it. People keep asking me where they can get one like it. I keep telling them: not where, when. It takes years to get a bag like this. You get a bag like this 20 years ago.
I have a pair of shoes, a comfortable pair of shoes. I bought them more than ten years ago. Over time, they have conformed to my feet. I have worn them on every trail, every pilgrimage, every spiritual tour I lead. The straps wore off, and the laces fell off. I had them fixed, because there is no pair of shoes I have that are as comfortable.
My love, this is what I pray for you and I to be to each other.
For you, my sweet love, I’d love to be your comfy old jeans. I’ve love to grow old with you, for you to grow comfy with me. I’d love to wear down together, mend each other, and conform to each other’s rough edges.
For you, my beloved, I’d love to be those comfy shoes, so that we may walk on life’s path together.
May your hands be like that leather bag, growing softer and more comfortable as I hold them, through life. May the wrinkles on our faces be a tribute to the sweet memories we will have made together, hand in hand.
There will be shinier, newer, more crisp companions out there. But you, my beloved for all eternities, are the faithful companion. Our souls have conformed to each other, our hearts have softened together, our bodies comfort one another.
For the rest of this journey that we have ahead — and all the journeys beyond — let us keep traveling together, growing softer.