Write Thing at the Write Time

Love is patient It is not bound by time. Never limited by seconds, minutes and hours. Time does not alter love for it is not an emotion or feelings that simply fade. But instead a decision made. Love does not decrease in passion over time instead it grows stronger and stronger, more potent each passing days, months and years. Like wine (or stinky cheese) it gets sweeter (or stronger? ;- ) in time. So love learns to wait. It thrills in the waiting season, confident in every turning that it will remain the same. Love grows in the shade of time, does not diminish its luster but all the more grows brighter. For real love unlike photographs does not fade. Real love unlike the waves easily swayed. Love remains. It is enduring. Like a rock among the crashing waves, it is immovable. The only way that love be tested in its patience is in the waiting. How it waits. What it does as it waits. For patience is not how long you wait but how you behaved in the waiting. For we might...

I hear you speak. In a crowded jeep or street. You tell me things, in my Secret Place, As if we are face to face. I sense you, In the Stillness of time. You make me feel emotions, While reading between the lines. I see you in a crowded street. You are the Lame and Weak. You are the Angry and the Hurt. They are your Glory unrefined. But I am saddened, for the ones called turn a deaf ear, the ones with seeing eyes turn blind. and those who could speak become dumb. Why do they refuse? To hear the unrelenting Call. Why do they turn away? to let your Way. I am hurt. not for me but for you. Outstretched, you gave your life. arms wide opened, You let them in. But they let themselves out. "I love you" You keep on telling me. "My feelings for you is much to strong." You keep reminding me. God, Father. Jesus, My Friend and Lover. Why can't they see it? Why can't they feel it? Why can't they hear it? Send me Lord to the Hurting. Your Comfort be their Comfort. Send ...