I’m hurt. I can’t. I won’t. I’m tired!
Those thoughts…those feelings carry my soul adrift.
They beckon my love to retire
In the steams of self-pity and selfish “bliss”.
There my will finds no rest
With this will to love,
Beating deep in my chest
I, me, my, mine
Holds my love for you at bay.
I can’t love you well when my focus is plainly
“How much in my favor will this love thing play?”
So today, I choose you.
I empathetically step into your shoes
Considering you better than myself
Then our love is detoxified,
Purified, optimized past the infatuation of self
This is NOT to say that I disqualify my wants and needs
This IS to say that I choose to repent of my love-sick greed
I, me, my, mine…
Those weren’t the words of the Divine
Who bore shame, pain, and so much more
Who had all at His fingertips,
Yet for you and me, chose to become poor
So, even as I write and pray
The answer to my petition has been received
My gaze diverts from me,
As I behold the one who cleanses me of greed
In my mind’s eye, I look to His selfless, nail-pierced hands.
Which then beckons me to turn my eyes to you
I will to love, because I’ve been so loved
By a Man whose life bled:
Love is what I DO!
Then setting my gaze on Him again
I ask, “Teach me how!”
He shows me a towel around His waste
Before His disciples, I then saw Him bow
He knelt to wash their feet
As they looked on curiously from above
I imagine you, my _________, doing the same,
Curious as I wash you with my purer love
I m e m y m i n e
Has been washed by a Dove
As I now step through the barrier of self
“I will to love” transforms… “I WILL LOVE.”
Featured Image by Eddie Kopp on Unsplash
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