In June, Monty and I will celebrate our 22nd anniversary. I think of those twenty-two years and the five years we were together before we got married, and I see God’s faithfulness woven through all of it. It’s the thread that stitched Monty and me together back then and binds us together still. That thread of God’s faithfulness has been demonstrated to me over and over again through Monty’s love for me and faithfulness to me. God is good. All the time.
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. – Lamentations 3:22-23
“Everything We Wanted”: A Play in Four Acts
Act One
The scene takes place in the living room of a small apartment. A young couple is sitting on the couch, eating Chinese takeout and talking. An orange kitten plays on their laps, swatting at their chopsticks.
Her: “Do you still like being married to me after a month?”
Him: “I like it better now that I have a job.”
Her: “Me, too. I’m proud of you. You’ve always wanted to work at HP and now you will.”
Him: “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t a temporary position.”
Her: “I know, but don’t the temporary jobs lead to permanent ones sometimes?”
Him: “That’s what I’m banking on.”
She smiles. “Something to pray for.”
The kitten climbs up on her shoulder and starts playing with her hair.
Her: “Look at us. Married for only a month and we have a baby.”
He laughs and gently pulls the kitten out of her hair.
Him: “And a job. And the book you started writing.”
Her: “It’s everything we wanted.”
He lifts his can of Diet Coke in a toast.
Him: “To everything we wanted.”
She smiles and lifts her Diet Coke to his.
Her: “To everything we wanted.”
Act Two
Five years later. The scene takes place in the living room of a big, sunny condo. The same couple is sitting on the couch, talking. Her feet are in his lap. An orange cat is curled up between them.
Her: “I’m trying to think of what we should toast to.”
Him: “I know. Pretty cool problem to have, isn’t it?”
She lifts her can of Diet Coke. “We’ll take turns. To finally being hired by HP. Permanently!”
He smiles and lifts his can of Diet Coke.
Him: “To benefits and a raise. And being able to afford a car that actually runs.”
Her: “To no more calls to tow trucks while we wait on the side of the road for hours.”
Him: “To having the kind of insurance that will pay for your new neurologist.”
Her: “To hope that she’ll be able to help me.”
Him: “Something to pray for.”
They click the cans together, and he leans in to kiss her. They laugh as the cat refuses to move between them.
Act Three
It’s ten years later. The scene takes place in the living room of a large house. It’s the middle of the night. One lamp dimly lights the room. She’s lying on the couch, the orange cat in her lap. An empty bottle of whiskey and several pill bottles are on the coffee table. He enters the living room.
Him: “You should come to bed.”
She doesn’t move. He shakes her shoulder.
Him: “Come on.”
She wakes and tries to sit up. He looks at the coffee table.
Him: “How much did you take?”
Her: “Not enough.”
Him: “You need to come to bed. I don’t want you down here alone.”
She stands up slowly, sways, and stumbles. He catches her as she sinks to the floor. He tries to pull her to her feet, but she takes her hands away and starts to cry. He sits down next to her on the floor.
Him: “You have to stop this.”
Her: “Don’t you think I know that? If it were that easy, I would.”
Him: “Please.”
His voice breaks, and she looks at him.
Her: “I’m sorry.”
Him: “I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry. I want to hear that you’re going to stop.”
She puts her face in her hands and cries. He puts his arm around her and scoots closer to her.
Him: “I can’t do it for you. But I’ll do it with you. Every step. Please.”
Her: “I don’t know how.”
Him: “I don’t, either. But we’ll find out.”
She wipes her face and rests her head on his shoulder.
Her: “Promise me you won’t leave.”
Him: “I won’t leave. Promise me you’re going to stop.”
Her: “I promise.”
He pulls her tightly to him and sighs.
Him: “More to pray about.”
She nods in his arms.
Act Four
It’s six years later. The same couple is in the driveway outside their house on a warm summer night.
Him: “How was your meeting?”
Her: “Really good.”
He starts to walk inside, and she stops him, grabbing his hand.
Her: “Wait. We didn’t wish yet. How can you forget to wish when we’ve done it for so many years?”
Him: “Ok. I’ll go first.”
He looks up at the night sky.
Him: “Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.”
Her: “Did you even wish? That was so fast!”
Him: “It was a short wish! Your turn.”
She looks up and waits a long minute.
Her: “I’m still amazed by how big and open the sky seems here, away from the city.”
Him: “I know. You can see so many stars; it’s hard to pick one.”
Her: “Star light, star bright—“
Him: “Wait.”
Her: “What?”
Him: “What star are you wishing on?”
She points.
Him: “I thought so. That’s not a star. It’s the light on the top of the grain elevator.”
Her: “Oh. Fine. Star light, star bright—“
Him: “Wait. What are you wishing on now?”
She points.
Her: “That one. It’s kind of orange.”
Him: “That’s not a star, either. It’s a satellite. See? It’s moving.”
Her: “Thank you, Galileo. Maybe you could narrate for me as I wish on a star—you know, like they do at planetariums.”
Him: “I would love that!”
Her: “Just let me wish. Star light, star bright, I’m wishing on a satellite. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.”
He turns to go inside, and she stops him again.
Her: “Promise me you’ll never get tired of this.”
Him: “Of what?”
Her: “Wishing with me.”
Him: “I promise.”
Her: “What about when we’re ninety and can hardly see the stars?”
He laughs.
Him: “That’ll be perfect. I won’t know what you’re wishing on.”
Her: “I’m serious. Promise.”
He looks down at her and tucks her hair behind her ear.
Him: “I promise.”
Her: “What will you wish for when you’re ninety?”
Him: “More. More wishes. More days with you.”
They go inside the house and close the door behind them.
Act Four, Scene Two
Later that same night. The scene takes place in the living room, which is dimly lit by one lamp. She’s alone, on her knees by the coffee table.
Her: “There’s so much to pray about, God. But all I want to say tonight is thank you. Thank you for giving me a man like him. Thank you for loving me through him and—”
She’s interrupted by him coming out of the bedroom.
Him: “Are you ok?”
Her: “Just praying.”
Him: “You should come to bed.”
Her: “I am.”
She pushes herself to her feet, but a gray cat darts in front of her, and she trips. He jumps forward and catches her.
Him: “Well, now you can’t pray like that anymore.”
Her: “Why?”
Him: “Because I’ll worry about you! What if I wasn’t here to catch you?”
She smiles up at him.
Her: “You were. You always are.”
He kisses the top of her head.
Him: “Come on. Bed time.”
Her, to the three cats watching them: “Good night, boys.”
He turns off the lamp.
Curtain.
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Comments 6
Not sure what to write back on this, words fail me.
Rather then the words speaking to me I FEEL the scenes, all I have to do now is close my eyes and play the scenes over again in a form of visual imagery in my mind and perhaps also in my heart.
To “sense’ the first idealistic scene, the blissfulness, the sweet , innocent echos of a newly wed couple.
To sense the contentment of the second scene were some dreams are being realized, that of a permanent job, more income and dreaming of all that can now be improved or afforded.
To feel the reality of shattered dreams, the agony of life as it is now and the inward groans of two desperate lovers and friends.
The last scene to sense— that of two closely knitted souls through time and some pretty rough patches, yet still taking the time for those long ago started rituals, even if one is more realistic and the other one ever the dreamer of the two. Again that sense of reflection, knowledge and intuitively knowing that there was One who was and is the glue that made bonded them then and now!
Klara–Oh, I’m so glad you’re able to comment! What you wrote is exactly what was in my heart. This is our journey, written down. Thank you for seeing that and feeling the emotions behind the words. Somehow, you always manage to do that. Thank you, my dear friend.
Renee, it takes one, to know one! My scenes may look different from yours but I just “get” it.
It is, however very unusual to actual be able to feel all those senses. In many respects a lot of people let life pass them by without wanting, wishing or even knowing “how” to feel?
It drives me nuts when I do try to let others feel me more acutely only for them to just gloss over it and go on to the next subject as if they never heard what i just tried to convey to them.
There are times when I wished I felt less, but then it is good to remember that this is a “gift” and to rejoice in it and over it!
Klara–yes, you do always “get it.” I agree it’s unusual to actually feel with all of your senses. It also makes those of us who feel that way more vulnerable and often not as understood, as you said. And oh, I hear you, too, about wishing you felt less. But, as you said, that’s a gift. It’s what makes you, in particular, actually live out those words in the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. And it’s what makes you so dear to me.
Renee, Wow! You write and speak with so much passion, power , from the deepest parts of your Hear and Soul. It is beneficial for me, to be reading this today. What I really understand from this, is re-inforcing what I have learned, is, we haveneeds, seemingly Insurmountable problems. Sometimes, we feel, we can handle this, take care of this ourselves. You have had Monty by your side, helping, supporting you, praying, wishing with you. What a strength he has been for you. Your journey, Renee, first few years of marriage, positive, optimistic plans. Then, Your Personal abyss, Pit, whatever term you want. Then, slowly, achingly, Renee, You “start to rise”, Your Faith is still a strong heartbeat within you . You have kept your trust inGod, trusting him enough to call his name, Time and again, “Help me, God”.I have said this before about you. YoubHave Guts and Faith. Each day You arise with renewed faith, and you talk to God from your Heart. You are an inspiration to me, and I am sure your whole family. You experience Your Breakthrough moments, everyday from Your prayer-answering God. “Great Is Thy Faithfulness”. Wonderful hymn, GidBless You, Renee, Monty and Your Family. You inspire me.,
Harold, thank you for such beautiful words. Thank you for feeling my heart in these words. I am so very grateful for Monty and his strength and support. Through it all, as you so beautifully said, my faith was “still a strong heartbeat within me.” I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it’s true. Thank you for reading my words and sharing your response. I’m grateful for and humbled by the words you wrote. Thank you so very much, my friend.