Monday, February 04, 2013

Love Does Not Boast, It is Not Proud...

Love never promises to be easy.

We all have to do our fair share of the work, and we all have to own up to our fair share of the mess.

Love isn't afraid to get dirt under nails, to roll up sleeves, to put hand to the plow.

Love kneels down to dirty feet and washes them clean with tears and hair, or basin and towel.

Love hurts.

Love heals.

Love owns her shit. Love shows his ass. Love forgives.

"With no regrets or grudges against the tin and timber of real life around you, let it be time to bring every memory inside like wood you place in the fireplace piece by piece, wish by wish. The old need that wasn't met, the wants misunderstood, what you absolutely knew and guessed, what you dreamed or half invented, saw and heard outright or saw and heard in words you read and adored, what was done to you and calls for revenge you let burn away. Each thing is of the same good use, and burning together, continually, the light the bundle makes belongs to you, your love and work, what you see by, how you're seen... the deeper the dreams and beliefs, the brighter and warmer you and the rooms you walk through are, and you're safe now passing through old places, not dark now, more than sufficiently kept lit by you." ~ Kaye Gibbons the life all around me by Ellen Foster

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