Forever thankful

(Last night at Bible study: my praise prayer point)

Raynard. Especially. For too many reasons to count. 

He is not afraid to rebuke me, to tell me that I am being immature and selfish. He hold me accountable. He humbles me. He makes me take my eyes off of myself and focus them back onto Jesus. Perspective. He helps me when I get so caught up in my work, showing me that I'm wrong, that it's not all about me, me, me. He will force me to go to Bible study when I don't feel like it because he understands, he truly knows what I need, what is best for me, and I will forever be thankful for that.

He has been so loving, so selfless, so sacrificial, so supportive, so tender, so kind, so strong, so patient, so gracious, but firm when I need to hear what I don't want to hear it, these past (almost unbearably difficult) weeks. With him by my side I am growing (and growing up), encouraged, reminded constantly, to glorify God every moment, to proclaim the Gospel, to be praying for us and our friends and to live in the light of eternity - what all of life is really about!

Thank-you Ray, really, really, REALLY (words are not enough, and never will be, so I will  just never stop saying "THANK-YOU!") I love you. 

X

Hold me close.

Just as he is leaving she reaches out to him and whispers, "I think I'm falling apart... I feel broken..." and he says, "I am holding you tight, I will put you back together..." And he does.

no words are necessary

When you are struggling to breathe, left gasping, overwhelmed by the storm whirling around you, raging winds cutting deep, no end in sight, tears just streaming, time running through your fingers, thin as air, too much to do, too little time... but then he holds you close, whispering things you cannot hear, wiping your tears and feeling your heart beat slowing down, you do not need words, one loving look, a tender touch.... just one breath at a time.

You make me feel

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

{Maya Angelou} 

[And on a side note: there is nothing more wonderful then being so securely inlove and beautifully loved*]

That I might live

"My Lord, what love is this?
that pays so dearly,
that I, the guilty one,
may go free! 

Amazing love!
Oh what sacrifice,
the Son of God
given for me,
my debt He paid
and my death He died
that I might live -  

That I might live"

Good Friday!

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." 

{Romans 5:8}

A dream within a dream*

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? 

{Edgar Allan Poe}

Sometimes all you can do is keep from crying. Until tomorrow*  

the gate

She stood tall and silent, staring out of the window at the gate at the edge of the garden. She had been waiting. For him. Of course. The sun cast shadows across the trees and the flowers, fluttering in the breeze, standing tall and silent. And waiting. She watched the darkness creep across the lawn, stretching closer and closer to where she stood. She did not see, her imagination was freed. Those wild and fantastical dreams. Those secret, hidden hopes she had dared to believe. 

The moon rose swiftly and in its light she saw clearly for the first time. The trees were bare, they had lost their leaves long ago. And the flowers were dull and dead. The stood tall and silent mocking her. Bitterly disappointed at her futile thoughts, building realities where there were none. But she could not turn away. So still she waited. Small and silent. Yearning for the gate to open. 

home is where the heart is

"Though the fire of the heart may have withered its core 

Unto ashes and dust--though the head have turned hoar 

Ere its time, as the surfs o'er the breakers that foam 

Still, a tear will arise when we think upon Home."

{Albert Pike}

It has been a week since you have gone. Standing in the darkened doorway, starts far above, coldly shining down on us, hushed and mocking, tears falling without ceasing, body shaking, soul tearing. Breaking as you said goodbye with one last kiss, one last embrace, one last promise. 

Closing the door, watching your shadow disappear through the glass, blurred with unspoken fears and overflowing sorrow. 

Every where I look I am reminded of you. Always in my thoughts, always in my heart. The days have been long and empty. Peace out of reach, happiness beyond my grasp. No purpose. No joy. I am restless without you. Lost and alone, left longing after every one else has forgotten. They do not know and they do not care. Trapped in their own worlds and ignorant of mine. 

But here I am standing, arms wide open, waiting for you to come home. Soon.