A Tuesday kind of love, breathing relevance into otherwise monotonous moments. Something to believe God for again :)
A beautiful excerpt from here:
A Tuesday kind of love is this: commuting to work knowing that someone cares about what you’re going to have for lunch; understanding that you do not have to be your dynamic, charming, weekend self this time; this time you can butcher sentences and make bad jokes and trip over thin air and it won’t change anything. A Tuesday kind of love is when weekends and weekdays are one and the same, expanses of time where unpredictable, irreplaceable closeness exists, swells, bursts. Tuesday is directionless conversation about things that happened five hours or five years ago; it’s knowing where he keeps his receipts and when he has a doctor appointment; it’s ordering Chinese food or taking his parents out for dinner because they’re in town or forgetting to eat because you’re full of each other’s words and there’s just no room for anything else.
I don’t want to dream through our lives together, don’t want to sleep in, don’t want to put on my sunglasses and pretend that life’s a vacation. The fantasy is that I want to exist in reality; the fantasy is to be there for someone on a Sunday morning but also on a Tuesday night, when the haze and laze of the weekend has worn thin and seems far away as ever. I want a Tuesday kind of love.
Note to self: Here’s to letting go of my (Is)land, Ishmael & Isaac. I let go of where i am and its familiarity, that God, You may take me where You want me to be. I let go of my way of doing things, my plans, my ideals, my desires…so that God, You can give me something better. God, i let go of what i believed to be was from You, just because You require it of me. I break, again. You know where i am. And You’ll never give me more than what i can handle. So yes, God, if You brought me here, You’ll also help me overcome.
Again and again. Ellie, learn this well. Cause if you don’t, you’re just gonna be in the same rut. With a different person.