"He loves me not."
I drop the stem and smile at the three pairs of eyes looking to me for comfort and guidance.
It wasn't just my flower, it was OUR flower.
Oh but the sky is sapphire blue!
The clouds are giant puffy white dreams!
My dress has the perfect twirl and flow to it.
I am feminine and pretty today.
A swipe of the exact shade of lipstick to match my sweater, a bright cherry red to complement the sky.
A breeze sweeps by and grabs me, twirling my skirt and tossing my hair. I am wrapped in His arms. He loves me. He loves us. My heart is full of gladness. My smile turns to a giggle.
Moment by moment I’m kept in His love;
Moment by moment I’ve life from above;
Looking to Jesus till glory doth shine;
Moment by moment, O Lord, I am Thine.
Never a trial that He is not there,
Never a burden that He doth not bear,
Never a sorrow that He doth not share,
Moment by moment, I’m under His care.
I am misunderstood. They think they know me. They think I am glad for the loss, that I am glad to be free from him. I am glad to be free, free In Him. The loss of the man is great, the consequence far reaching. Yet the loss does not compare to the large Hand of The Man that holds me.
I am my beloved's and He is mine.
It may be at morn, when the day is awaking,
When sunlight through darkness and shadow is breaking
That Jesus will come in the fullness of glory
To receive from the world “His own.”
It may be at midday, it may be at twilight,
It may be, perchance, that the blackness of midnight
Will burst into light in the blaze of His glory,
When Jesus receives “His own.”
O Lord Jesus, how long, how long
Ere we shout the glad song,
Christ returneth! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Amen. Hallelujah! Amen.