Dance, Shulamite, dance!

It is so apparent.

I can’t express in words how empty, barren, cold, and dark my life was. Even attending church didn’t satisfy me. I was dancing with religion but now I dance with the King.

It was so hard to dance with religion. So cold, distant, and foreign. It was difficult to get the steps right and so I would constantly trod on toes, mainly His toes, but I wouldn’t notice because I was so intent on making sure I was following the step pattern drawn on the dance floor. It was a frustrating, empty thing.

But, in the arms of the King, it’s different. He leads so effortlessly, so smoothly. He twirls me around the dance floor, telling me the steps, and soon enough, I wasn’t looking at the floor anymore for guidance. I was looking into His eyes and listening to His tender voice as He instructed me.

The foot troddings lessen every day that I dance in His arms. When I step on His foot, my apologies are immediately accepted and no irritation fills His eyes. I know this because I keep my gaze locked on His. The light of His countenance lightens my darkness. We dance to music He created solely for us, for our dance with each other, and no one else has the same song as Him and I share.

There is a feast, as well, and He leads me to the table often, seats me beside Him, His banner of love above me, so protective, so beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off of Him and He keeps His eyes on me. After feasting so elaborately, He takes me in His arms again and we dance, spinning madly, twirling happily.

At night, He holds me in His arms as I sleep, keeping me safe, even in my dreams. It is to His face and voice and fragrance I drift to sleep each night and stir to wakefulness each morning. I wouldn’t want it any other way!

I don’t know where you are with Him. I don’t know if you’re dancing with religion, feeling frustrated and unsatisfied, empty and alone, or if you’re dancing with the King. All I know is that my life has never been the same since the day I truly took His hand in mine and let Him lead me through the forest. That was over two years ago and I have lived a lifetime since then.

Feeling sad, empty, lost, alone? He’s waiting. His arms are wide open. He asks you to come to Him, to leave the barren arms of religion and the cold vacancy of this world and dance the dance of wondrous beauty in His arms. Don’t refuse.

the Castle in which I live

I find myself seeking more. Not more in the worldly sense or in the realm of material gain, but more in me. I want more than this world has to offer.

Every day that I spend with Jesus Christ is a day of growth and blessing. That is not to say that there aren’t hard days. On Sunday, under the pressure of math, I broke. In the arms of my Beloved Savior, I was healed. It is a wonder that I ever survived without Him.

But that was just it, I guess. I survived. I didn’t live, but rather, I made it through. I can’t understand why people don’t want to surrender to Him and know Him. Is a life out there in the clubs, with the bottle, with the tainted love, with the drugs, better than a life without it? I don’t think so. It isn’t a matter of not wanting to let go of these things. It’s just a matter of where you’re eating, what you’re use to.

I was use to perversion, lying, stealing, and misery. Now, walking with Him, I wouldn’t trade my days with Him for any of those things. Sin satisfied me for a season but soon it was a heavy chain that was wrapped around me, dragging me down under the crashing waves, and making me struggle to survive.

Under my own will and strength, I could not stop what I was doing. There was no way that I could untangle the mess my life had become. But, then, He found me. I was like a lost child that had been beaten and abused by everyone that I went to for help and there He was, so tender, so kind, so in love with me that my mind couldn’t understand what my heart was shouting.

“This is the One you’ve been longing for all along!”

I have fallen many times since the day that I took hold of His extended hand. I am not perfect. However, it is not about perfection but rather it is about direction. And, the direction I am running in is His.

This path through the forest of life is dangerous. Things spring out of the trees without warning, sometimes, leaving me breathless and distraught. But, now, Jesus Christ walks beside me, my strength in times of weakness, my best friend, my everything, comforting, encouraging, loving. He goes before me and makes a way through the woods that did not exist without Him. He goes behind me and makes sure that my past does not overtake me but rather that mercy, goodness, and blessing overtakes me.

I am in the Potter’s hands, a vessel being shaped by the Masterful Creator. In His hands, the forming can sometimes be painful as He works the difficult lumps of clay and smooths all the rough places. Sometimes, it feels as though I’m being pounded back down into workable clay and formed yet again under His smooth and gentle hands.

“What a marvelous substance! At rest, it’s hard and unyielding – but as I work it over with knowledgable hands, it becomes a thing of beauty…” Miss Grundy talking about clay. This is how God sees us as we allow Him the access to move in our lives and work us like clay in His hands.

Being a vessel, I tend to leak. It is due to this that my Beloved’s presence and eagerness to be with me is even more of a blessing than it would be otherwise. He fills me up. I can never run dry so long as I am with Him because He never runs dry. He is the wellspring of living water, pure and refreshing. I love to come into His presence and drink deeply of Him.

Every day He prepares a feast for His people. It is satisfying and fragrant. He sends the invitation to the wedding feast, far more satisfying, but only few arrive. It is His wedding feast that I desire to attend, garbed in bridal rainment, sitting by His side with His banner of love waving high over me.

The wedding feast is wonderful because of the dancing. There is always dancing, always celebration, at the wedding feast of the King of kings. It is there that I twirl about the room in His arms and laugh with pure delight. It is there that I am happiest.

Remembering all that life has thrown at me, I am so glad that I have such a wonderful Man in my life. He is all that I need. I know that He has only the best for me and that He loves me more than I can ever comprehend. It is due to this knowledge that I so desire that all would know Him, all would see Him, all would desire Him. To know Him, really know Him, is to love Him. And, I love Him so much!

Shalom veh Ahava!

“I love You, God – You make me strong. God is bedrock under my feet, the castle in which I live, my rescuing Knight. My God – the high crag where I run for dear life, hiding behind the boulders, safe in the granite hideout. I sing to God, the Praise-Lofty, and find myself safe and saved.”

Psalm 18:1-3 The Message Translation

Uh oh…

I’m hungry. I’m feeling the rising up of it. I know I’ve felt it before but now it’s so much harder to supress it…deal with it…no more suppression allowed. But, man, am I hungry.

It starts so simply. I use to allow self-pity and doubt cloud my heart but now that isn’t an option anymore, just like suppression is not an option. So, a couple days ago, when ‘who is he?’ and ‘where is he?’ and ‘when is he going to look into my eyes?’ danced through my mind, I shrugged it off. And therein lies the hunger.

Now, I sit here desiring. It is such a simple desire, isn’t it? One that people have fulfilled daily and miss the wonder of it. A desire to be loved by him. Someday, someday soon (hopefully) I will meet him. There is the fear of that as well but today, as hunger creeps through my veins and makes it extremely hard to concentrate, I figure I should take a moment to muse, ponder, deal with, and move on.

I’m hungry.

As I’ve said before in other blogs, I use to press this longing down deep within me, termed it as ‘lust’ and therefore unclean and sinful and went on to declare that I had no wish to meet this man or marry him, ultimately. This, of course, was completely untrue. It was not lust, it was a simple, pure longing for something beautiful. It was not unclean nor was it sinful, though, if allowed to run rampant through my mind and heart, it could certainly be deemed so. I truly do desire to be loved and held by my husband one day. So, my defenses against this hunger have vanished like smoke.

And now I’m hungry.

What will his kiss feel like when he kisses me for the first time after we say ‘I do’? What will he sound like when he wakes in the morning? What will our pet names for each other be? Will we call each other multiple times during the day? What cologne will he wear? What books will he read? Will he be artistic? Will he be tender? How will we meet? What will it feel like to fall in love and know that he has fallen in love as well? How much longer will I be waiting before God brings him to me?

As I sit here and wonder these things, I know that Jesus will be my strength through all of it. And, someday, I will look up and there will be the answer to all my questions and my battle will be a completely different one.

Until that day, dearest…I will wait for you. Wait, love, for me.

UPDATE: Jesus is amazing! A few moments, laying in His arms, seeking His face, desiring His kiss, and hungers are satisfied! He is so wonderful to me! I adore Him!!

Kiss me – full on the mouth! Yes! For Your love is better than wine, headier than your aromatic oils. The syllables of Your name murmur like a meadow brook. No wonder everyone loves to say Your name!

Song of Solomon (Songs) 1:2-3 The Message Translation

Behind the Facade

I wanted to be friends with celebrities. I believe that there is enough content to me that I could be a real friend to them. Does it matter? Not really. I mean, it’s not going to happen. However, I wanted it to. Not because of the fame that would drip onto me from them (kinda) but rather because of what I see in them from afar. The facade.

It’s a heavy thing to be a celebrity. You always have to be guarded. And, not everyone loves celebrities. What can you do when people hate you for no reason? About the same thing you can do in normal life. Ignore them and try not to let their hateful words harm your heart.

If friends were loyal and were yours before fame found you attractive enough to enfold, you cling to them and are wary about the new friends, the ones that sprung up like daisies in the rain of your fame shower. At arm’s length, that is the distance all newfound people remain…except for the select few that manage to get past the guards and are proven loyal despite the fame.

Name droppers are everywhere.

So, no celebrities are my friends…my real friends…though I stalk a few on Twitter and have a few added here on MySpace. It is because of who they present themselves to be that I add them, not just to have numbers or just to have their names upon my page. No. It is because I genuinely would like to meet them. Though I realize the facade and I realize the truth…it is nice to see them.

And what did my True Love tell me yesterday? “I love you even though you’re not famous.”

And so does Pastor and Margaret, my mom and brother, Mary and Cathy B and Cathy D and Eliza and Juliana and Antonia and Eileen and Ellen…and many, many others. So, I no longer want fame to drip on me nor do I want to seek out the famous in the hopes that they will like me. One day, maybe, a normal person turned celebrity will find me worth talking to but if that never happens, I am loved by the Creator of the universe. Who could ask for anything more?

I don’t want religion

I never before thought of things the way that I’m thinking about them now. It wasn’t that it was not obviously wrong for me to have bad attitudes and to print things at work that were for my own personal use, but I see now that I have been a horrid person. Thankfully, I can look at my life and see that God has always loved me and delighted in me. It makes it a great deal easier for me to look back at myself and see the value that I believed didn’t exist.

What puzzles me is the way that we choose to live our lives. I mean, we know and we see how miserable we are and how miserable others are. We see it, clear as day, and we see the consequences of our choices and actions. Yet, we think that we can’t possibly live a pure life in the presence of the King. Why not? When did a life without anger, bitterness, violence, debauchery, lust, perversion, foulness, and murder become a bad thing? When did a life of blessing become a curse? When did it become too hard to live for the only One that sees the heart so clearly and loves with a passion that cannot be dampered even seeing the darkest parts of the soul?

I find myself looking at those that are content to wade through the filth everyday, myself included since I am far from perfect, and I wonder why we would be willing to soil our white garments again. And how lovingly He cleanses us after it’s all said and done. His grace is without end and His mercy covers us like the waters clothe the sea and yet we consider it too difficult, too hard, to leave behind the filthy sins of the world and walk an upright walk with Him.

More and more, I think about how this isn’t a game, how this isn’t a trial run, how there are no do-overs when it’s all said and done. One day, I will stand before Him and He will either enfold me in His arms or He will tell me to depart because He never knew me. That frightens me. That frightens me more than Hell frightens me. I don’t want to be sent away from His presence. I don’t want to live a life where I feel like I’m seeking Him, like I’m loving Him, and being intimate with Him, only to find that it was a fantasy in my head. Only to find that I’ve entered the wedding feast unprepared, wearing the improper, informal garment rather than the garb of a wedding guest. I don’t want religion, I don’t want fantasy, I want Jesus Christ.

There is a great deal of trash in our hearts. I’m reading a book by Leslie Ludy entitled “Authentic Beauty: the shaping of a set-apart young woman” and I have seen that my trash-littered heart is desperately in need of cleaning. I need to become all that He has called me to become. This need comes from my desire to please Him and to honor Him with my lifestyle as well as my lips, to live a life that is faithful in all areas, not only the visual areas but all the areas, seen and unseen. This is what I want to do for Him, the One that has saved me from the worst in me. Foul sinner that I am, He has drawn me out of the filth I once found so comforting and now see to be smelly garbage, dung.

I don’t drink, go clubbing, fornicate, flirt, use foul language, smoke, do drugs, or exhort violence because I don’t want to, not because of ‘rules’ or ‘laws’ but because the desire is no longer there. However, there are areas in my life that are more of a struggle to lay down. Anger and gossip, jealousy and envy, these are things that I am working to remove from my life. But, as I looked at the questions to remove the trash from my heart, the process to create an inner-sanctuary for my Beloved, I have seen why they are such a struggle for me. These may not be struggles for others, much like drinking and such are not struggles for me, but we all have our areas where we have allowed so much trash to pile up that it seems normal to be the way that we are. It seems normal for us to always have to struggle with the things that we have struggled with our entire lives.

I am going to do some trash removal. What I want is Jesus Christ. What I desire is Him. To be with Him and experience deep and lasting love that is unchanging, unwavering, and pure, love that no mortal person can give, but love that allows the one loved to love in return and to offer more love to those around them. Someday, the promises my Beloved has given me will come to pass. I don’t want to be where I am now when it happens. I want to be His in every way.

Today is the day of salvation. There may not be a tomorrow. All things on this earth are fleeting, passing away, and the investments here pass away with them. The human soul is forever, investments there do last, but the only way to truly do things of content that will last, is through the love and guidance of Jesus Christ. He is the one that gives to me all that I need to be all that He has called me to be. It is not by my own strength that former desires have died away, that the thick bondages and chains have been shattered, that the prison gates have been thrown wide open and I’ve been set free. It is by the strength of my Beloved Savior, the very One that calls to us all. The Bible says that many are invited but few are chosen. This is not because He picks and chooses, but rather it is because we pick and choose. We choose this world and all its filth as our prize, rather than the true treasure, the pearl of great price, the One that paid the ransom we could never pay ourselves. Our Redeemer, our Deliverer, our Savior, our King, our Friend, our Father, our Protector, our Healer. I want Him to be my Everything.

As the deer longs for the water, so my soul longs, cries out, craves, desires, burns for Him. Oh, my Beloved Jesus Christ, thank You for Your love, kindness, mercy, and compassion. You are so wildly tender, so gentle, so near to me. I cannot live without You, I cannot face this world without Your presence, love, and strength. Draw me ever closer…ever closer to You. It is in Your presence, in Your arms, that I find my worth. It is in Your will that I find my purpose. It is in You alone that I find my hope. Thank You, my Beloved, for loving me. Thank You, my Beloved, for choosing me. Thank You, my Beloved, for saving me. Thank You, my Beloved, for all that You are in my life, heart, mind, and soul. I love and adore You!

Shalom veh Ahava!

Kicking down the door

I once was afraid of what would be seen if someone grew to love me enough to kick down the door I hid behind and revealed all that lay inside. Long ago, it was easier to keep the door barred and speak through it rather than open it and my fear was that someone would take the time to kick down the door and rescue me.

I wouldn’t have seen it as rescuing then.

It was a gentle, persistent knock that brought me to peek through the peephole and see who was standing on the threshold. His eyes met mine, as though He could see me looking through the little circle, as though He knew my fears. His knock continued as I sat crouched in the trash strewn about the room. I wanted so badly to let Him enter but what would He say when He saw all that was around me? What would this wonderful Man think of me when He saw truly what I lived with? Yet, He refused to leave.

It was not a wary opening of the door but rather a wide throwing open of it. When I finally realized that He could see what was there even with the door closed, I so desired to have Him there, in the midst of it all, to help me do things that I never before even dreamed of trying.

I expected Him to get right to work when I let Him in, to deal with the large pieces of debris in the room of my heart and life, but instead He looked at me and smiled. It was as if all the filth that surrounded us had no bearing at all on how much He loved me. He opened His arms and I fell into them, into the most wonderful and comforting embrace I would ever know, one that would be a constant in my life, through every storm and failure, through every sunny day and triumph, the hug of true love and acceptance.

Soon, we got to work. He was encouraging whenever I felt like I couldn’t do it. He lovingly asked me to allow Him to be my strength. I would look at Him in wonder. He was so strong and He wanted to be my strength! That meant that I could do all that I was setting out to do. With Him as my strength, all things were possible! I would work with renewed vigor whenever I would realize that He was all the strength I needed.

Slowly, the room began being cleaner and cleaner, the air fresher and full of a fragrance that cannot be matched on this earth. Yet, behind me, a pile of trash loomed. It was the little things that I kept from His gentle hands because they weren’t such large issues, not compared to all the heaps of garbage that occupied most of the room. It wasn’t until most all the trash was gone that the pile behind me was seen for what it truly was…a large, smelly pile of garbage.

There was no accusation in His eyes as I realized all that I had kept from Him and looked at Him ashamedly. He opened His arms again and enfolded me in His warmth. He told me things that I had never heard before and I saw all that I was in His eyes, more than I saw myself to be in my own eyes or the eyes of others. Together, we faced the pile and began the hardest work of all. Though I was loathe to admit it, the things I had kept back were the things that I truly wanted from the sins of my life, the ones that I considered vices okay to keep. Now, we would work through them and see the decay within their folds.

It has been awhile since I’ve stood in that room with Him. At some point, dealing with the garbage and being in love with Him became second on my list. It happened so slowly that I didn’t miss it until I was standing behind that closed door again and fearing what would happen if it were kicked down. It is only now, as He knocks once more, that I realize I should have kicked the door down myself. I should have taken it off its hinges and added it to the pile of debris to be burned up in His consuming fire. I don’t need the door there for with Him dwelling inside this room of my heart, I am safe.

I don’t know when I forgot that He is my rescuing Knight, that He is the one that has pulled me out of the sea and saved me, that He is the one that hugged me when I was covered in filth, that He is the one that knocked so patiently and so persistently upon my heart’s door, that He is the one that has loved me for so long and so deeply, that He is the one that I desired to breathe in like oxygen. How could I forget that He was the one that held me and laughed softly when I relayed my ‘bug’ incident? How could I forget that He is the one that counts every tear I cry? How can I forget how He took my face in His hands and reassured me of His love when I was abandoned by all I sought to have love me? How could I forget how truly wonderful He is?

I am kicking down the door because I love Him and I want to adore Him. I want to fall head over heels in love with Him and I don’t ever want to close the door to my heart again to keep my trash hidden. I want to let Him have all of me and to be able to dwell in that place, cleansed and intimate. Come, my Beloved Jesus, and let’s create a place that is truly Yours. Remove the door from its hinges and have complete access to all of me!

Being with You…

Being with You is like strolling along a tree-lined country road,
Calm and serene.

Being with You is like sailing upon a storm-tossed sea,
Chaotic and unpredictable.

Being with You is like dancing in my husbands arms,
Safe and cherished.

Being with You is like falling from great heights,
Intense and unstoppable.

Being with You is like falling asleep in the arms of the one I love,
Restful and loving.

Being with You is like running full speed into the wind,
Breathtaking and exhilarating.

Being with You is like falling in love and being caught every time,
Faithful and comforting.

Being with You is like kissing lips saturated in wine,
Intoxicating and delicious.

Being with You is like being with my best friend who knows me completely,
Engaging and joyous.

Being with You is like living a dream every minute of every day,
Wild and changing.

Being with You satisfies me,
Being with You delights me,
Being with You changes me,
Being with You captivates me.

You, my Love Jesus Christ, are the truest lover of my soul,
My soul mate, my perfect match, my one and only Beloved,
I am so glad that I am Yours and You are mine,
It is so amazing, being with You!

Men

I was thinking about men yesterday. As I drove down the road, I marvelled at all the differences between men and women and what a wonderful compliment we are to each other, assuming that we’re allowing ourselves to be what God intended for us to be.

Oddly enough, I began by thinking about their arms. Men’s arms are different from women’s arms. They are the perfect place to rest in, to be comforted in. This leads one to think about their chests and how different those are from women’s. The perfect place to rest your girly tresses as you sleep in your husband’s arms. Safe, warm, comforted, loved. How wonderfully they compliment the supple softness that is a woman!

Then, I moved on to their brains and the way that they think. They see things completely different than women do. It is due to this that a good man can help his wife work things through without frustration. It is through this that a good man can teach a good woman many things.

I mused about their smiles. How different a truly masculine smile is compared to a feminine one. The things communicated through the showing of a man’s teeth when he smiles tenderly at the woman he loves, when he laughs loudly along with her melodious laugh, when he smiles in joy upon seeing her enter a room.

I love the sound of a man’s sultry voice. So different from a woman’s, even when her voice is deeper than most. The kind of voice that can make a woman smile, that can ease her fears, that can comfort her, than can send a thrill through her soul.

All of these things, and many more, reveal the differences in men and women and the reason that God made the opposite sex. How wonderfully we compliment each other in God’s plan.

Of course, most of us aren’t living God’s plan. So it is that arms are abusive and voices are harsh, so it is that women don’t feel safe in the arms of their husbands and fornication is rampant, so it is that men allow women to make all the decisions, rather than being the man they are called to be, so it is that homosexuality exists.

I want to be a compliment to the man God has for me and I want him to be a compliment to me. I want him to be a man and myself to be a woman. I don’t want him to conform to the foolish ideas of this world but, rather, to the wonderful, beautiful ideas of our Creator. That is what I want and that is what I’ve been promised. What about you?

At Bat

“Sometimes I wonder, where I’ve been, who I am, where I fit in…”

It seems as though life enjoys throwing curve balls. It is always the first pitch that makes you comfortable. Swing! Home run! The crowd cheers. You smile and before you know it, it’s your turn at bat again. Well, what do you know? Another hit, another run, another estatic crowd cheering wildly. Your confidence soars. Again and again this happens. Then, the curve ball. Swing, miss, shock spreads through the crowd. You muster up your confidence, a little fractured, but still intact, and you step up to the plate again. Another curve ball, swing, miss, silence from the crowd. Your confidence is broken now but you can still manage to hold it together with shaking hands. You step up the the plate once more, hands sweaty, brow furrowed, you just have to overcome these failures, you just have to make that home run one more time. There’s the pitch. It heads straight for you. You lick your lips and swing, only to see the ball dance away at the last minute. Another curve ball. You’re out. How can you be out? You are, though, and that turns your confidence to goo running through your fingers as the crowd that loved you moments before glares at you with condemnation and anger. It is all your fault, after all.

I feel as though I took a vacation from what I should have been doing and sat at the dock of the bay and drank cherry Dr. Pepper every day while musing over the uses and misuses of my talents. Then, I returned and felt the solid ground beneath my feet and I was ever so ready to tackle life again. Of course, things went wonderfully. And then the curve balls of life came my way.

Even if you value yourself greatly, see the worth within yourself clearly, it doesn’t help when someone leaves you. Especially without an explanation. I did this to my friends a few months back. Boy, did we all feel that! Now, sitting here beside Mary and wondering, simply wondering, if life is going to repeat the devastion it wrought over a year ago to our friendships, I feel at a loss of what to do. I want to call, but what if there’s an answer? What do I say? What if they respond with anger and irritation? What if they don’t answer? What if they don’t respond? They haven’t yet.

So, friends hiding away, curve ball number one.

Then, the coldness of people washed over my mom and I recently, mixed with the kindness of people, giving us the ability to survive the cold cruelty. But, why so cruel? Why so hard? I have reached a place of white-hot fury and have allowed God to remove it and keep me sane. But, one day, we won’t be there anymore. One day, we won’t allow you in anymore. Then, where would you be? So willing to forsake us for others, so willing to toss us aside…until tragedy hits you. Then you want us there. Until you have plans and need us to make the way for you to do what you want, then you want us there. I want us to be closer…but I will not pay the price you’re demanding. I will not watch her cry over your hateful ways. I will do all that I can to eliminate the pain that you cause.

So, hurtful, hateful people, curve ball number two.

I have likened falling in love with Jesus Christ to a person standing on a cliff. All they have to do is jump. The thrill of the fall, the cool spash of the refreshing waters below, all a packaged deal. But, if one does not jump, one never knows. I want to leap. However, I am, oddly, remaining on the cliff edge. This frustrates me. How could I want something so badly and fail to leap for it? It seems like so long ago that I was madly in love with Jesus Christ, to the point where life was wonderful simply because He was mine and I was His. How did I lose that? It was the compromises that set it all afire and sent it away. My desires is to know Him, to have Him know me, and to be completely consumed.

So, drifting away from my Beloved, curve ball number three.

These have all added up to me being out of the play right now. Though I am still seeking Him, though I am still believing in absent friends, though I am not being cruel in response to cruelty, I am sitting on the bench, waiting for my next turn at bat. And this time, no outs!

Wondering May

She stares out the window,
And studies the leaves.
She watches the rain fall,
And feels the weeping inside.

May wonders when he’ll come,
When her true love will arrive.
May wonders how long she’ll wait,
Before he’ll kiss her lips.

She hasn’t been alone long,
Though she’s always been alone.
She doesn’t dare believe in love,
Or cling to the hope of romance.

May wonders where he is,
And if he’s wondering about her.
May wonders about his smile,
And the timber of his voice.

Her friends are unaware,
That the pain is deep and sharp.
They go about their lives,
Sharing their tales of love and romance.

May wonders what he enjoys,
And what likes they will share.
May wonders what it will feel like,
To look into his eyes while in his arms.

Time seems to pass so slowly,
As she tries not to doubt love will find her.
Every day is a struggle not to cry,
To keep her smile in place no matter what.

May wonders if he’s ever coming,
If he longs for her as she does him.
May wonders if he dreams of her,
Like she’s been dreaming of him.

If love cannot find May,
May will survive despite this.
Assured of her value even alone,
She will not be broken.

May wonders…and discovers…love has been waiting for her…in the arms of her Savior.