October 28, 2011
for D.
i
Someone said the test of love
Is making the hard decisions–
Choosing, for another’s sake,
Those necessary actions;
Taking the right path
Though it be
Strewn with rocks,
Watered with tears, and
Fraught with exhaustion or worse.
Love chooses what is best
For the beloved,
What must be chosen,
Shouldered, borne, done,
In spite of what might be
Preferred,
Regardless of what had been
Previously hoped.
ii
Sometimes Love means letting go–
Opening wide the door and
Allowing the loved one to
Walk out
Into a new adventure,
A new phase of the story being told:
Love writes the ending of the last
Chapter (knowing there are some
Parts that will be missed as they are
Packed away to make room for the new)
And turns the page to the next beginning,
Not letting nostalgia rob the future
Of its joy, but not insisting
On walking the next miles of the journey,
Knowing it is time,
Promising to still be waiting
With an open door.
iii
Sometimes Love means letting go–
Throwing open the cage and
Letting the bird go free,
Removing jesses, tethers,
Putting away the scissors that kept
The freedom-loving wings clipped,
Accepting the snappings of the
Wild spirit
And not hindering
The soul from seeking its own,
Perhaps its angry or foolish, way.
Love does not quibble about
What is fair or proper or usual,
But opens its coffers to give the
Requested inheritance,
Opens its arms to release the son,
And watches his form fade into
The distance
Perhaps never to return.
iv
Sometimes Love means holding on–
Standing firm on embattled ground
Till hand forgets how to let go the spear,
Till the fight has been won or
Every last ounce of strength has been
Exhausted in the attempt.
Love refuses to recant what is
True and just and right;
Love refuses to accept in its place
The darkness of deceit,
Fighting on for what is best,
Not easiest.
v
Sometimes Love means holding on–
Refusing to give in,
Refusing to throw away all hope.
Love chooses to remember,
To affirm
All that is noble and worthy and true
In the beloved,
Even when the beloved has forgotten
The meaning of those words.
vi
This love–it is not blind:
It asks of us that we not forget but forgive,
Canceling the unpaid debts,
Knowing they may never be recognized,
May never be paid,
Yet trusting in the One Who pays all debts.
And this love–it is not easy:
yes, this love is hard.
Because it does not feel as love
Should feel, we think–
All warm and soft and comfortable–
We look at it askance,
Wonder at times if we chose rightly.
One thing we can know for certain:
Choosing to make the hard choices
For the sake of the beloved
Proves love’s quality.
vii
Because sometimes Love means both
The letting go and the hanging on.
It asks of us that we open our hand
(That we not hinder)
But requires of us, strictly,
To harbor that unlikely songbird
Hope
In our heart of hearts
To sing in the darkness.
viii
Yes, sometimes Love means both
The letting go and the hanging on.
And that is why Love is . . .
A father scanning the horizon
Day after day
Waiting for his son’s return,
For that speck in the distance
To take on his child’s familiar gait
And then for those beloved features
To come into clearer focus as the
Wanderer returns.
That’s why Love is . . .
The only-begotten Son, the Promised King
Accepting the rejection of His people,
Dying the death
Of a vile criminal at their request
To secure a greater deliverance
Than they could dream for themselves,
Losing His hold over them in order to
Hold onto them forever.
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