Musings of a Hopeful Romantic: Poems About Life, Love, and God

Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West
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In this message, Priscilla reminds us that God has given us permission to doubt, that Christ did not rebuke John when he questioned and that this battle is ultimately God's. It is HE who enables our faith, we could not on our own, hold this belief with must conviction. Please do watch the full video, it is a truly poignant message. This sounds retrogressive, but I mean it all the same. I have become weary of the people who expect you thriving round the clock- or at least pretending that you are. The people who preach using only certain seasons in our favorite Bible characters.

These people will give you the verse of Job praising God in adversity, but not that of him wishing he was dead or not born. They will preach using the woman at the well, as if she would be that woman without having had four husbands and no damns left to give.

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If she wasn't the woman she is she may not even have spoken to Jesus in that context, she'd have been too 'well-bred'. These people praise the David who could stand up to Goliath without acknowledging how he would later be unable to stand up to his own self when it came to greed and lust Nearly all biblical characters displayed flaws we would write off church members for in this day and age.

Nearly everyone we would claim the blessings of had struggled. The seasons shaped and made them.

The Heartbreak

So why is it that we reject our own human frailness, we expect that we would be forever full of faith. At what point are we to be empty for Christ to fill us? I do not suggest that we glorify the seasons of depression, of failure and backsliding. Not at all. What I propose is that we be more understanding, that we stop thinking so narrowly. That we recognize that telling someone who is backsliding to lift themselves up with the word is okay, but asking God - who being God is far more powerful- to meet them in their sunken place and lift them out is actually how this thing works.

And if you're like me; going through some stuff, questioning and on the brink of failing. And I hope we soon see the reason for this season. I still whisper to myself "this too shall pass", but now I equally think "this too may be part of His plan".

More musings from an armchair philosopher

And now we herald a time of new beginnings. I will forgive you for the rides of all-night talks and ecstatic daydreams you fueled, without telling me the petrol tank was uncertain, we were just kicking it. I went to the doctor pointing out some swollen bits. It makes the parting tranquil And keeps the soul serene, That gentlemen so sprightly Conduct the pleasing scene! To your house, of course. To let you know we love you, And just how much we care. Those who identify as Anglophone now have to place conjunctions after asserting their stance, like saying:.

As the people all over the world muse on love genuine of commercialized fluff on this Valentine's Day, permit me share with you some of my favorite original poems relating to L. This is for my sisters, whose thighs touch. Whose arms hang like armpit drapes and whose stomachs bulge…. It is okay not to be O. Okay is never enough anyway,.

More musings from an armchair philosopher

They always want more. So lift your arms and wave them ' round. Cross your feet and pout your lips. Swing your hips to your own beat. And repeat: I love me On Considering Love. I thought of you, lover-to-be, as a Kintsugi artist. A master craftsman, able to see possibilities in fragmented parts, worn and not quite whole, still useful. See, I have shards of glass placed at the top of the walls surrounding this heart like those my grandfather cemented atop the fence around our family home- To keep thieves out, to slice careless hands who come to prey But an artist takes care, a potter's hand is patient.

So I can see you pick up these shards nimbly, one after the next, appreciating the story of each fall, respecting the painful tale of each break. I can picture you pouring precious metal- emotions rare- unto sharpened edges piecing together what some would see as mistakes to create a testimony. I thought of you when I learned of Kintsugi, and I thought of I. I thought of us all, reflections of this philosophy; believers in broken things, people who would pour gold in cracks.

Card carrying members of 'Hopefuls Anonymous' Lovers; Kintsugi artists.

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On Discovering Love. Your words, uncomfortably shared, speared the familiar sinking feeling of heartbreak within me.

soilstones.com/wp-content/2020-03-01/4541.php I find it hard to describe this feeling. Heartbreak resulting from unrequited love is unique you see. It was that dinner we shared, you remember the night you took me out for my favorite meal? Two phone addicts somehow able to not think of our phones for hours. It's been the never-ending conversation we have. Free flowing, humorous, unrestricted, digressing and yet still mutually understood. Able to go dormant yet reawakening within days with the same feel.

The familiarity it bred. It was me struggling to contort this large body to somehow lay my head on your shoulder in the taxi ride home. It was in my trusting you enough to drink in your presence.

Legacy of the Stone Harp » Musings

Comfortable enough to hold your hand and cross the road I see now that it was a million little things. You may have come to me by chance but you did not come all at once. You are the dripping rooftop that slowly made the whole house damp. Weathering defenses, surprising us both. And this is how I got a heartbreak never knowing there was a love. We all forget, you see, that we lift our loves on a pedestal, we raise them up like the moon does the tide of our feelings. We make them gods because they make us feel more human, more magical, loved. We raise them up involuntary and without consent.

We raise them up until they fall. Humans after all. So today I will forgive you for not being all I dreamed you would be. I will forgive you for inspiring me to fly when you had no wings. No wings for you, no wings for me. I will forgive you for the rides of all-night talks and ecstatic daydreams you fueled, without telling me the petrol tank was uncertain, we were just kicking it. I will forgive you because you made no promise.

Romantic Love Poems ❣️ God bless our love...

I forgive you because you too are broken and should not have been put in a place to fix my own cracks. I will forgive you because I am learning the ways of love. Now please forgive me for the selfish love I bore and thrust on you, a crown you did not ask for.

The love that demanded more of you, than you were ready to give. Forgive me the luxury of rose-colored glasses that saw your promise but not your flaws. Not the vacuum you harbored still. Forgive me the good things I hoped and dreamed. Because I have learned even good things are burdensome. I have learned hope is heavy a thing around your neck weighing you down and adorning you brightly at the same time. Forgive me because I am still learning to love like God. On Recovering from Love. Perhaps soon…. I shall be rid of the residue of you.

Completely OK with the vacuum formerly your space in my world. Perhaps soon, I shall have closure.

Musings of a Hopeful Romantic: Poems About Life, Love, and God

In the meantime. I remind myself: I am enough. Perhaps not for you, but for me. Enough for who I am meant to be. I remind myself:.