Love language

Daybreak in the Meadow by Joy StClaire

Perhaps that was the problem, I didn't take the time to slow down and reflect. I've been running around frantically to make things better, to put things in order and feel a sense of clarity by seeking answers instead of letting it unfold as God intended. Perhaps what was playing out was too painful and confusing to endure, and in my desperation I tried to diffuse emotions by pushing forward blindly.

I realize there is too much seeking, too much questioning, too much asking, too much talking, too much negotiating, too much justifying, too much fixing, too much mending--mending something that is already broken and long gone.

I waste time on mending because I'm a coward.  If God is love and I lack faith in love, does that mean I lack faith in God? Logic says so but no, it's my heart.  All I can do is wait for God to speak to me since only He can help me to pick up the pieces.

God isn't the voice who said "Let there be light."  He is the light. He is the moment. I'm with the voice, not the moment.

The irony is that everything around me remains the same...if I choose not to awaken, I can live in this delirium and emptiness for many years, even a lifetime. But can I? I wish I can, but I know I cannot.  

If I knew what I know today I would've done things differently, but this doesn't matter since valuable lessons in life don't come for free. The more valuable the lesson is, heftier the price tag.

In a previous post I wrote I didn't yet know how to love selflessly. Now I realize I do know how to love selflessly. I knew all along.

It's him. It's me. It's me and him. He tries, I try. He doesn't try. I try.  He tries, I don't try. Why are we even dancing when we don't speak the same language to begin with. Why can't we dance even though we speak the same love language.

He tells me he doesn't deserve me. I laugh. How do I tell him that because of him, I now don't deserve any better. Now that I know, how can I take my wounded heart to someone I love selflessly. How does he not understand. How selfish he is, until this day.

Or perhaps it's me.  He is not changing, I am.  

Why am I relying on words, actions and objects to fill this void in my heart when all I need is one look, one touch and one moment to fill it instantly.  It's overflowing, abundant, too right and perplexing all at the same time.