If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames,but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. I Corinthians 13
Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fires, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, rivers cannot overwhelm it. If one offered for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly scorned. Song of Solomon 8:6-7
I miss you dearly, but I know that this trip is but a reminder… For the distance is a reminder...of a higher plan that has brought two souls born thousands of miles apart to a foreign land, where they’d one day meet and touch each others’ hearts. A fragile butterfly, with subtlety and hesitation landing on a bare sun scorched shoulder, only to pick up memento and soar in the pink, orange sky. For this long month is a reminder...of time that must be surrendered, like that given for a friendship to be watered so love can flourish in early Spring. For the expectation of your return is but a reminder...of the thanksgiving that’s due to a good God who sends good gifts from above. I can’t wait to see you, hunnie.
