“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.” William Shakespeare.
My Love treats me like a princess. I don’t know how he does it, but I know there is only love, infinite love behind it all. It blows me away every time I see a sunset or hear laughter or listen to music. He offers me everything, even himself. And I can do nothing but gaze up at him in awe and adoration.
I don’t love him enough, but there is no ‘enough’ with him. His only desire is to be desired by me. Just loving, the meager amount that I can, is ‘enough’.
And what is love, if not a response to who he is? If I love at all it can’t help but be evident to the world. If there is that great strong root of grace secured deep in my heart, I have no choice: I will act upon it.
This is not what I intended to write about. But nothing ever is. I have so much to learn, especially the lesson of enjoying the process. Do I really see him in everything? Am I “pure in heart”? Because I want to be, if only to see my Abba!
He is always the point. It’s not to live a holy life, it’s not to be the wisest or the healthiest or the one who tithes the most. He is our purpose. If we do any of it for ourselves we waste our precious time.
“How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?”