it is a tough thing to love properly a person you know you love deeply and dearly.
it
is easy to gush rosewater words. but what's to stop them swiftly
getting left behind as time goes on? at best our phrases can be a
fleeting evocation of sincere sentiment. at worst, they can be the false
lull of security in an affection which is here today and gone tomorrow.
it
is much more difficult to patiently bear a beloved's blunders, to
kindly dress their wounds, to do away with all the little things that
shake us and cause us to covet and puff ourselves up in their presence,
to respect their whole person rather than a single dimension, to stow
away personal desire and satisfaction for their sake, to not just keep
frustration to yourself but to work through it prayerfully and humbly
and without pointing fingers, and to be consistent and constant in
freely granting amnesty.
a love that is all those things cannot be shaken. but sometimes, often even, a proper love that is all those things is silent.
and not saying a word is hard because you can't be certain anyone will ever hear even though you are loving at the top of your lungs.
