To Have, To Hold, To Love Thee

Sonnet XLIII

from Sonnets from the Portuguese

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men might strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,–I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!–and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

I today awakened to sweet song of baby birds and whispering thoughts of my love. I eased through my early routine and found my morning spot on my sofa, where I read devotionally. My glass of water, placed beside me as usual by my dear husband, was full of ice and cold, just as I like it, so I sipped, and waited.

A soft, dear hand took mine in his. "Happy Anniversary," said he. "I can't believe it's been thirty-two years," said I. "Where has time gone? We're getting older." "No," my dear one replied. "No." Jeff's loving smile reminded me that God's best gifts grow richer in grace with years.

Vintage is such a lovely way to walk with marriage. A godly relationship appreciates with passing time, growing stronger, showing more honor, having greater love, gaining more patience, learning more value, sharing more joy. With Christ as its center, our Master designs, weaves a masterpiece, a work of His art, one wrought on the loom of time, with trials, with trust, with want and need, through peril, through darkness, in sickness, in storms, in health, in light, in line with His word, in plenty, in hard times, in sweet times. All joins together, becoming a beautiful tapestry of graceful truth, full of real faith, real flaws, and real love.

This most precious piece is not ours for gloating, but for using and handling. It is a work of art to be studied by our children and theirs and others around us. A still imperfect, textured fabric, testifying, not of our strengths or talents, but of the humble work of a merciful God, who takes what little thread and fabric we have to yield to Him and graces it with the beauty of Jesus Christ, His Son.

Thank you, dear Lord, for a godly husband and thirty-two years of our sharing Christ together and walking, hands bound as one, with faith in ministry and life. Thank you, dear heavenly Father, for the unity of your Spirit and the bond of peace, for without your work, our home would be empty and cold, our children and grandchildren lost, unconscious of God's sacrifice of love and His cherished handiwork. Please grant us continued grace and strength to honor you and each other. And for as long as we both shall live, may our marriage ever bring you glory.

A Portuguese proverb says that "Time brings roses." A precious anniversary day brought a dozen to my door. Dearest husband, "If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I'd be picking roses for a lifetime" (a Swedish proverb).