Gethsemane: A Poem
Loving a broken person has caused me pain. I lament for what could have been; for them and for me. But love forgives again and again, since ‘love covers over a multitude of sins’. And the source of my love is not myself. Love is not that I have loved God, but that he loved me and sent his son, the true vine, to lay down his life for me.
As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. John 15:9
Only after the precious jewel was taken hold of, thrown to the ground, shattered and skittered, was it gifted to me, and where I would have polished and velvet-encased, until death’s release I gathered shards, cutting skin.
Blood dripped and cried out, witness to another’s loveless hands, and my task seemed impossible but for you, my willing Lord.