It Is Happy To Love Even If You Are Not Loved In Return

Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."

"That is true," agreed the Shepherd. "To love does mean to put yourself into the power of the loved one and to become very vulnerable to pain, and you are very Much-Afraid of pain, are you not?"

She nodded miserably and then said shamefacedly, "Yes, very much afraid of it."

"But it is also happy to love," said the Shepherd quietly. "It is happy to love even if you are not loved in return. There is pain too, certainly, but Love does not think that very much significant."
                                                     -Hinds' Feet on High Places, Hannah Hurnard

A most beautiful passage from a most beautiful book

I am the Vine

+ "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5 +

[alc]

My Rainbow Shoes

The reason I love my rainbow sandals so much isn’t because I got them on Block Island at the surf shop my dad loves, and it isn’t because they’re so comfortable it feels like I’m walking on air. Nor do I love them because they’re in great shape after four years of use. No, I love these shoes because the threads on the straps are starting to uncoil. The soles have worn down and my big toes nearly skim the surface of the earth when I wear them to take the dogs out to play. I love these shoes because the once light tan surface is now worn almost black from sweat and rain. I love them because each crevice is nearly filled with grains of sand, too stubborn to be moved from their new home. I love them because I wore them every day of my 15th summer, the one me and my best friend went to the amusement park nearly every day. I love them because I was wearing them the day I got stuck directing traffic at the triathlon in the pouring down rain. I love them because they’re the shoes I left sitting on the edge of the dock when I got to go tubing on the lake. I love them because they were the shoes I wore the day I moved into college. I love them because I was wearing them the day me and my first love stepped on to the ferry boat and I showed him my favorite place in this world. I love them because they are the shoes I wore every time I mowed the lawn and walked my dogs. I love them because they’re the shoes that have met sand, and dirt, the forest floor, airplane floors, school halls, shopping malls, stepped in gum, stepped in puddles, kissed rock jetties, and were on my feet when I was first kissed. I love these shoes because in every loose thread and in every place the sole is worn thin, a story is written. Each day of my life, each summer memory is recorded in the soles of these sandals. Every adventure, and every daily task is documented on those well-worn wonders.

[alc]

it's time to try a little harder, darling

[alc]

1 Peter 5:10

"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you."

Say Something

-this has got to be the most accurate portrayal of the past ten months of my life, songs always speak when I fail to find the words-

You Were My First Love

It's funny, when it comes to your first love. You may never get over it completely, you may never quiet fall out of that love. But this doesn't mean you're broken, it doesn't mean your ruined, it only means you're scarred. And just like all other scars, it carries with it a story, one of trial, one of courage, and one of strength. As days go on, the scar can fade, but it'll always be there, it'll always rear it's head, it'll always be a piece of you, but it isn't what defines you, it doesn't mean you're not a whole, and most importantly, it doesn't mean you can't love again.

Lullabies - Yuna

[alc]

Safety of Complacency

I often find myself seeking the safety of complacency. I tend to do whatever’s comfortable, whatever’s easy. I live on habitual action. Familiarity is my fuel, routine is my refuge, and consistency is my comfort. I navigate through life the way I would my childhood home, knowing the texture of the wallpaper lining the walls, the feel of the ground as it changes from tile to carpet, turning as the hallways bend, where the silverware drawer is, where to get a glass, where the flower pots go, where the floor is stained from a spill. I can predict the plan of my days long in advance. I can map it out on paper like the route to my favorite ice cream stand. The roads of my days are familiar, I know the way like the back of my hand. I don’t easily go with the flow, I am reluctant to change plans, and I’m weary of the unknown of the day to day. I avoid anything that could easily change or that can’t be predicted or planned.

But something I’ve come to realize, is that no matter how many plans I make, no matter how many maps I draw, no matter how routine I make my life, no matter how many obstacles I avoid, I’m still left feeling empty. I guess that’s the trade off for living a life of comfort and ease. Sure I know what I’ll be doing next Tuesday, but what’s the point if it’s unfulfilling? What’s the point of having it all planned out if it’s for no ones gain? I suck the spontaneity out of life. I drain the bones of life of their marrow and leave it weak and crumbling. What’s the point of living a life of comfort, always distancing yourself from the edge, never pushing yourself to explore this world we inhabit and those who inhabit it? What can anyone gain from complacency? Instead of seeking comfort in the familiar, I should seek joy and adventure in the unfamiliar. I should run to the edges of the world and then go ten steps farther out. I should start conversations with those who I don’t know, I should help those who need, I should discover, discover, discover. I should break down the walls of this house I’ve lived in my whole life, I should begin rebuilding the path God has laid out for me. I should begin to dive into the world for all it has to offer, even if it means a lack of stability and structure. It takes sacrifice, oh sure it does, but the reward is infinitely greater than any reward I could gain from sitting in the same spot all my life.

[alc]

For the one who grew up

I realize now I had a lot of growing up to do,

And I realize now, baby, maybe it was me and not you,

But what I hope is that one day you’ll see,

That maybe you were meant for me.

I know now is not the time,

And I’ve come to accept that that’s just fine,

But I pray that somewhere down this road,

Maybe once I’m fully grown,

That you’ll take me back into your arms.

I know I can’t say for sure,

But what I do know is that our love was pure,

Entangle in joy, full of light,

I know, baby, we were alright.

But how to get back to that place,

Where we saw eye to eye and face to face,

You grew up and while I stayed back,

But maybe one day we’ll be on the same track.

I know the future isn’t ours to tell,

But, baby, wouldn’t it just be so swell,

You and me, together again,

Oh Lord, please tell me when.

I promise to learn, I promise to grow,

These things I hope you know,

I want to be the one for you,

Cause, baby, our love was once so true.

You have to miss it, even just a bit,

You couldn’t have taken this without a hit,

Baby please know that I will wait,

Baby please just let it be our fate.

I didn’t have patience, but here’s how I’ll gain it,

Our paths will meet again; just time will pass before we attain it,

Oh baby, let me love you like I know I can,

Oh Lord, could this be your plan?

[alc]

Recovery

There’s something elusive about a one-sided break up. It’s like one day you’re together, you’re fine, and the next…the next you’re the farthest thing from fine. You’re sick inside because you still are madly and hopelessly in love with the person who broke you. The hardest part is knowing the last four months of our relationship we couldn’t even enjoy, you were in Spain, I was in America, and we couldn’t even be together…we broke up one week before you came home. When I hugged and kissed you goodbye in August, I was saying goodbye for Spain, not for good…if I knew it was for good…damn it I would’ve held onto that moment forever. I don’t know what I did, where it went wrong…I’m looking back, searching for the first signs of trouble, I’m looking for the first time I did something wrong, I’m looking for the time when I ruined this, where I doomed the whole thing. I can’t help but blame myself for your loss of feelings, I can’t help but think there is something I could’ve, should’ve, would’ve done differently if I knew it would come to this. I’m hurt. I’m so. damn. hurt. I’m left broken and having to recover, and the hardest part is that I know you’re going to be just fine. You’ll move on, forget about me, forget about this chapter, and I’ll be stuck on you, because unlike you, I’m still in love with you. I still love you, and you don’t love me anymore. Not only have I lost the love of my life, but I’ve lost my best friend…and you’ve come out on top, happy again, and rid of the nuisance that I became to you.

[alc]