And what of love, master?
And he answered saying:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
When his wings enfold you yield to him,
And when he speaks to you believe in him.
Love gives naught but itself and takes
Naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart", but rather,
"I am in the heart of God".
But if you love and most needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own
Understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the nooon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved
In your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
-Author unknown
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I don't think that anyone has ever loved me the way that he does.
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I started a new journal today. It's beautiful, and has Bible verses throughout it. This is journal number five since I started keeping them, when I was 18.
I remember when Doug and I broke up, and I would pour my heart out on paper. Everything I felt or thought was written, cried, onto the paper. Then I wrote everyday; now I write on a semi-regular basis. I try to make sense of my feelings, of my mind, and attempt to discern the direction of God in my life.
Tonight I found out that my Grandpa Reid has died. He died three hours ago. I found out less than an hour ago.
Casey was with him. My Auntie Mel had just gone out for a drink of water when the room filled with angels. She saw them all around. She ran out to get my aunt, and when she came back a few moments later, the angels, and Grandpa, were gone.
And so I have filled the first pages of my journal with the aching pain of loss. I've written down my memories, and my frusteration that growing up has to involve such pain. What with Grandma dying a few years ago, and Grandpa now...I feel like my childhood is dying away. Only fragments are left.
In my cold, lonely apartment I find little comfort. God is here, and I can feel him - but he isn't here to take away the pain, he's here to help me deal with it.
I have chronicled my most painful losses, along with my happiest times, in journals. They are where I aknowledge and feel my deepest emotions. When I do that, I feel closest to God. He knows the depths of my heart. Every word that I write reminds me of how much I need him.
"The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped." Psalm 28:7
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As the date of his departure approaches, I find my thoughts turning away from being happy, and more towards being scared.
I didn't realize how hard it would be for me when he left.
I'm trying to focus on the positives (it's only four months till he's home for good, and I see him next month for ten days or so) but they are becoming harder and harder to see. I really don't want him to go.
This afternoon I went to the mall for some retail therapy and bought some jeans. I'd rather have Trevor.
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