there is a verse that i recall, every time i think of love. almost automatically, it pops up in my head at the very moment my heart gets stirred with the pitter-patterings of what-could-possibly-be. it is my most honest definition of love, in its simplest sense, devoid of all the romance and emotion, stripped to its true and rawest nature.
i turn to this verse as a mold of sort, hoping that what i feel would fit, or if not, at least conform. more often than not tho, what i have turns out to be something totally different. the search or the waiting then continues on. i am my Lord's work in progress, deconstructing and rebuilding, hoping at the end of it all, with much experience of Grace, will be able to say... that i am able to suffer long. that i am kind, that i do not get jealous, nor brag, nor is puffed up. That i do not behave unbecomingly and does not seek my own things, that i do not provoke and does not take account of evil. that i do not rejoice because of unrighteousness but rejoices with truth, for my love covers all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
that my love will never fall away.