my man

to love him,
and to encourage my friends
each to love her own. . .

a joyful sacrifice, it is.
i love him and he loves me,
he is wonderful
and kind
and succeeds in almost everything he does.
but each has the ability,
because of our deep intimacy
of heart and soul and spirit and body,
to wound deeply the other.

but still, the guiding rule is love--
to be kind to him to his face
and behind his back,
to be patient with his quirks
as well as his failures,
not to be demanding my own way
(which is the hardest),
not to be peeved all the time
or bear a grudge
about those quirks and failures,
to encourage him always to be
what he was created to be
which is strong and true and honorable,
to bear and believe and hope and endure
everything that happens
because it will all work out for good.

and love never fails.
sometimes true loving is hard,
but it doesn't quit.

there are days when my failures
in living this kind of love
pierce my heart with guilt. . .
but this is my goal.

and the fact that i don't hit the bulls eye every time
with 100% accuracy
doesn't mean i should give up,
or that i am not succeeding,
doing better than i would
if i weren't even trying.

prayer

though my heart may swell and ache
with unshed tears,
and grief presses in
so that breathing is labor
and my heart struggles to beat,

He is here,
and He hears my wordless grief,
caring beyond measure
with compassion
and victorious power.

and nothing,
nothing separates me
from His love.