It’s a film with a classic New Year’s Eve finish . . . and don’t worry, I’m going to pass over the infamous diner scene. But “When Harry Met Sally” lets us eavesdrop on a poignant twelve-year romance between Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. Sadly, we have all lost – far too soon – the other couple in the film: Bruno Kirby and Carrie Fisher.
After a myriad of false starts and we’re-just-friends, all of Harry’s angst and wistful passion for Sally come pouring forth during the countdown to midnight and Guy Lombardo playing “Auld Lang Syne.” She’s sure he’s just there out of a temporary loneliness, and that he honestly doesn’t know how to love a woman. So here’s his spiel which finally wins her heart.
“I love that you get cold when it’s 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it’s not because I’m lonely and it’s not because it’s New Year’s Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, YOU WANT THE REST OF YOUR LIFE TO START AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.”
I can testify to that one. Lisa and I had only known each other for a scant five weeks when I proposed marriage. Hey, I was itching to get down on one knee and pop the question after two, but endured an additional cushion of three more weeks just to becalm my family’s consternation. Listen, all you nervous nellies, that was 38 years ago, so see, I was right!
But the greater takeaway as we head into 2018 is this. The very best time for our Lord and Redeemer to return to our world would be this coming year. How about really soon? How about right now? Heaven with Jesus is going to be amazing and all good forms of mathematical infinity; I’d like for it to start as soon as possible. Let’s not say “Even so, come, Lord Jesus” unless we really mean it.
David B. Smith Books 