There is a love that cannot be scripted in cards sold for dollars or penned by poets told by voices that recite more than experience.
This love tastes like peace, whatever these flavors may be.
Sipping its nectar, sweetness pauses upon the lips, slow and ample.
In truth, I would be intoxicated by this love if it were not for my greater desire to savor each moment.
As such, I have learned the art of remaining present, if only to remain with you.
Some know of this love, either by experiencing it, dreaming of it, or witnessing it.
This love is not packaged in bulk and doesn’t arrive the same for everyone. Whether from nature, a friend, a lover, a pet, or even a stranger whose soul resonates with yours before your mind can fully grasp the moment’s significance… it’s unique in a world where little is unique.
This love isn’t a detour; rather, it’s home on earth. A respite to regroup and armor up.
Poor and the wealthy alike have searched for this home. Some have created crooked wars over it; others have trespassed upon moral codes just to catch a glimpse, only to find their efforts futile; their rewards fleeting.
I’m not schooled in fortune-telling, nor do I have the constitution to expend energy in fear of what might happen when this love is gone.
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about how empty my days would be without you. How empty I would be. The thought alone echoes in a void I wish not to linger upon.
For this, I pray I go first, so I can help Jesus prepare a place for you.
In Heaven, I will love you still — more, I imagine — as I will not have the doubts, distractions, and discomforts of society, sin, and skin to plague and phase me.
For now, I am here, and you with me. What more can I ask?
Well, so much more in my selfish bent, I confess. I give my petitions to God.
I ask God to bless you and be a blessing to those whom He puts in your path.
I ask God to give you strength in mind, body, and spirit, for the days, and gentle rest for the nights.
And I ask God to allow me to love and cherish you in ways that first please Him, so that I may honor you in ways that reveal this love is beyond us and in us… a cord of three.
For some, this love was experienced early and is still going strong. For others, it was gone too soon. Then there are those, like me, for whom it came later in life but has filled the whole of my life.
I do not feel cheated. Instead, I feel thankful. What a gift to have you in my final chapter of this beautiful, albeit sometimes tender, and, in places, tattered book.
Would I have been able to love you fully in my younger days? Or were you given to me now so that I could truly know you and be known by you?
I do not need the answer, as these questions only take time I’d rather spend doing life with you.
So, I choose this moment, and all moments that follow as gifts.
I choose the quiet miracle of you and the sacredness born of ordinary days.
If this be the final chapter, then let it be the richest one — written not in grand gestures, but in small devotions: laughter over coffee, whispered prayers over lunches, quick forgiveness, steady loyalty, bold integrity, shared hope, simple joy, kindness without condition, and gratitude spoken often.
And when the last page nears, I will look back on this chapter and smile, knowing we didn’t just find love… we experienced it. Fully.
That’s the kind of love that fills a lifetime, my dear, no matter the duration.
This column was initially published by CherryRoad Media. For more inspirational articles, follow ©Tiffany Kaye Chartier.
Provided by Dallas Express
