I think the most damaging emotion
we can ever experience is expectation.
If we expect this or that or the other happen
and it doesn’t,
we become heartbroken or enraged.
These are all natural emotions,
but we can cut them at the pass
if we acknowledge our motive aren’t entirely pure.
I found an old journal of mine.
It humbled me.
I’d recommend it for everyone,
In my reflection,
I saw again how loving and patient my wife is,
even since the very beginning.
I see the groundwork, the hurdles we faced
the obstacles that continue to rear their ugly head.
But over those obstacles I see her,
and I see you LORD
and I keep going.
Relationships never stop,
they take work.
The outcome is glorious,
if you bear through the rough times.
I find I am much happier when I am at rest.
Note, I am seldom without something to do;
but, there is a significant difference between
having a schedule that’s full to the brim,
and doing what needs to be done as the need arises.
I have a knack for overbooking.
Why? I don’t know.
It takes me away from my wife, it robs me of my joy,
and it depletes my finances,
yet I overbook all the time.
Maybe I just desire the fame, or the attention?
Or maybe I am just afraid of being alone.
God, you are enough.
Let me be proactive about pursuing peace.
Welcome me in to Your Sabbath rest.
As morning light slips in through the window, I
slip you out of bed,
set my hand upon the small of your back
lift your hand into their air
and we begin to waltz.
We dance to tune of birds chirping at the window,
birds that have beat us to the day,
and slip out of dancing,
we take a shower and eat breakfast,
and dance some more,
we meet with friends for coffee,
go back home,
play some music,
watch a movie,
read a book
watch a bit more Netflix,
spend some time alone,
meet back together again
between soft sheets,
our eyelids heavy,
our breathing still,
I kiss you-
honestly, it is an expectant kiss,
you see through all my movements,
you smile, you sigh,
we think of dancing,
we fall asleep.
The next morning, who knows?
Perhaps we will dance again.
You walk laps around the house,
reading The Tempest with
such ease I’d swear you were reciting
As my eyes grow heavy and the night draws nigh,
Oh, “what dreams may come”
Bravo, orator. Bravo.
“All the world’s a stage,” the Bard wrote elsewhere,
and you stand proud at its center.
You inspired me
to snowboard, to play guitar
to take risks, and to take a bite
out of life (literally).
You inspire me still.
Teach me to know you, love you,
Let me be for us the man
I know I can be.
Soft and strong