Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.
― Dr. Seuss
In the walls of a forgotten part of the city.
We put it in some soil wondering what would happen.
As it grew we held hands enjoying its beauty.
The sprout turned to a tree as its roots dug deep.
Together we pulled the weeds and watered its trunk.
We watched in awe as its flowers turned to fruits.
Laughing we tasted as we sat beneath its shade.
But like everything in life nothing lasts forever.
The leaves began to wilt they turned from green to brown.
I yelled at the damn tree punching it's bark.
She watched as the tree faded and I raged.
Quietly she turned and walked away.
After the tree fell to the ground I sat at it's stump.
Here I have built my home in this place of decay.
My rage has passed and I've grown so much.
My stone heart lifted by God's balloons.
Now I still sit under the up heaved roots.
But I say to this most unlikely place:
Love never fails and Love ALWAYS hopes!
I've seen a dead seed sprout wonderful life.
Hakuna Matata
I wonder if she still has that letter I wrote her in the fall.
I wonder if the painting I gave her still hangs on her wall.
if she wonders half as much as I do.
if she misses being in my arms.
if a dandelion still grows in the pot we painted.
if she wears my sweat pants.
if she still has the Tolstoy book,
the Meaning of Marriage,
Restoration Agriculture,
Reaching for Rainbows,
I wonder where is she, where she's been and where she's heading.
about the books she's read and her thoughts on them.
about the songs she sings and how they make her feel.
about the things she's seen and how they inspire her.
I wonder if she's living in freedom and what that means to her.
if certain places, smells, words remind her of us.
I wonder if she will ever reach out to me again.
if this silence stings as much on her end.
if she's waiting for me to make the first move.
if she's dreading that I'll do such a thing.
I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is.
if she believes what I wrote to her in that letter.
if I appear in some of her dreams.
The part I've played in her life, big or small.
Does she miss how I'd make her laugh?
Did she feel the common thread woven deep within?
I remember she never thought I was sincere.
But I've never been so vulnerable.
I wonder if she knew how much I hated heights as I screamed beside her at Cedar Point.
I wouldn't have ever been so vulnerable around anyone else.
I loved how she laughed as I gripped the coaster
In that moment she saw such a raw me that I'd never shown anyone before.
Under the stars on that night by her parents' old house
I actually got on a bike because I knew how much she wanted to train for that marathon.
how I wanted to support her in that.
I cannot believe I did that.
One of my deepest wounds exposed freely to her.
The things I spoke to her that I've never told anyone else.
She was, by far, my best friend
With her by my side I awoke from my sleep.
I threw off the blankets of fear and found life.
How badly I wanted to push her, to encourage her, to stand beside her, help her voice be heard, help her heart chase the dreams planted within her.
Maybe she'll never know how thankful I am for how she helped me.
Maybe I'll never get the chance to help her move towards Christ's heart.
Maybe that was the end of our story.
Nothing in this life lasts.
Seasons go and seasons come,
steady as the beating drum.
That was one hell of a beautiful season.
Nothing in this life lasts.
I choose to smile because it happened. She is by far the most beautiful thing I have experienced in Your creation God. I am thankful for the time we had. I hope she lives a life always free. I hope fear never touches her. Her heart shines such a beautiful reflection of Yours God.
Her beauty is nothing compared to what
She will become
In time, become
But this season is over and I need to move onward. So I am making the choice to never write another letter to You about her so long as she chooses not to reach out to me. I want her to be free it's what I've always told her and with that I want her to choose what she wants whether that means never talking to me again or down the road of life reconnecting. But for me I need to make a choice and although my heart may feel for her my mind will choose not to write about her. I love her very much so but love can take many forms. I will love her by withholding my letters about her to You. It is for freedom You set us free.
I pray that You keep that woman's heart free, always.
I give up
I let go
I surrender
the beard is a reminder of this
I give up
Ray LaMontagne - Empty
― Dr. Seuss
Taste of the #wedding #YoureWelcome pic.twitter.com/viLlDMMvXD
— Adam Schuch (@ZMorris93) August 3, 2013We found a seed in the most unlikely of places.In the walls of a forgotten part of the city.
We put it in some soil wondering what would happen.
As it grew we held hands enjoying its beauty.
The sprout turned to a tree as its roots dug deep.
Together we pulled the weeds and watered its trunk.
We watched in awe as its flowers turned to fruits.
Laughing we tasted as we sat beneath its shade.
But like everything in life nothing lasts forever.
The leaves began to wilt they turned from green to brown.
I yelled at the damn tree punching it's bark.
She watched as the tree faded and I raged.
Quietly she turned and walked away.
After the tree fell to the ground I sat at it's stump.
Here I have built my home in this place of decay.
My rage has passed and I've grown so much.
My stone heart lifted by God's balloons.
Now I still sit under the up heaved roots.
But I say to this most unlikely place:
Love never fails and Love ALWAYS hopes!
I've seen a dead seed sprout wonderful life.
Hakuna Matata
I wonder if she still has that letter I wrote her in the fall.
I wonder if the painting I gave her still hangs on her wall.
if she wonders half as much as I do.
if she misses being in my arms.
if a dandelion still grows in the pot we painted.
if she wears my sweat pants.
if she still has the Tolstoy book,
the Meaning of Marriage,
Restoration Agriculture,
Reaching for Rainbows,
I wonder where is she, where she's been and where she's heading.
about the books she's read and her thoughts on them.
about the songs she sings and how they make her feel.
about the things she's seen and how they inspire her.
I wonder if she's living in freedom and what that means to her.
if certain places, smells, words remind her of us.
I wonder if she will ever reach out to me again.
if this silence stings as much on her end.
if she's waiting for me to make the first move.
if she's dreading that I'll do such a thing.
I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is.
if she believes what I wrote to her in that letter.
if I appear in some of her dreams.
The part I've played in her life, big or small.
Does she miss how I'd make her laugh?
Did she feel the common thread woven deep within?
I remember she never thought I was sincere.
But I've never been so vulnerable.
I wonder if she knew how much I hated heights as I screamed beside her at Cedar Point.
I wouldn't have ever been so vulnerable around anyone else.
I loved how she laughed as I gripped the coaster
In that moment she saw such a raw me that I'd never shown anyone before.
Under the stars on that night by her parents' old house
I actually got on a bike because I knew how much she wanted to train for that marathon.
how I wanted to support her in that.
I cannot believe I did that.
One of my deepest wounds exposed freely to her.
The things I spoke to her that I've never told anyone else.
She was, by far, my best friend
With her by my side I awoke from my sleep.
I threw off the blankets of fear and found life.
How badly I wanted to push her, to encourage her, to stand beside her, help her voice be heard, help her heart chase the dreams planted within her.
Maybe she'll never know how thankful I am for how she helped me.
Maybe I'll never get the chance to help her move towards Christ's heart.
Maybe that was the end of our story.
Nothing in this life lasts.
Seasons go and seasons come,
steady as the beating drum.
That was one hell of a beautiful season.
Nothing in this life lasts.
I choose to smile because it happened. She is by far the most beautiful thing I have experienced in Your creation God. I am thankful for the time we had. I hope she lives a life always free. I hope fear never touches her. Her heart shines such a beautiful reflection of Yours God.
Her beauty is nothing compared to what
She will become
In time, become
But this season is over and I need to move onward. So I am making the choice to never write another letter to You about her so long as she chooses not to reach out to me. I want her to be free it's what I've always told her and with that I want her to choose what she wants whether that means never talking to me again or down the road of life reconnecting. But for me I need to make a choice and although my heart may feel for her my mind will choose not to write about her. I love her very much so but love can take many forms. I will love her by withholding my letters about her to You. It is for freedom You set us free.
I pray that You keep that woman's heart free, always.
I give up
I let go
I surrender
the beard is a reminder of this
I give up
Ray LaMontagne - Empty