Love

I just re-found a wonderful poem by George Herbert, titled simply, Love. It speaks beautifully of God’s amazing love for us…without regard to our flaws and woundedness. It is worth getting past the 17th century spelling to sit awhile with this one:

“Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack’d any thing.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he,
I the unkinde, ungrateful? Ah my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.”

Truly, our God is Love.