I will be the shoulder for your weary head to rest, telling you stories until you fall asleep. I will be the body that helps to lift the weight from you to me. I will be the silence when you have no words to speak, but just to sit next to you in comfort, reminding you that I’m here.
No matter our journey, what connects us is this—the idea that no matter who we are, where we are, or what’s going on in our lives—we are not alone.
Love is my Christianity. Reaching out and hugging people, despite our differences, is my Christianity. Opening myself to new perspectives and beliefs and accepting them, even if they don’t coincide with my personal values, is my Christianity. Caring about other people and their hearts is my Christianity. Celebration is my Christianity.
When you’re homesick for a person, you cannot find where you belong unless it’s with one another, making a dwelling in one another’s hearts, one another’s souls.
Aquarius: Your heart is so beautiful. You are always willing to give, to share, to connect, to be open. There is nothing wrong with wanting to love and be loved.
I don’t have much to offer you—no spells or special powers, no promise of healing or the ability to solve the struggles spinning in your brain. But what I do have is my heart. What I do have is my love. And I know my love can’t save you, but maybe I can help you hurt just a little less.
I hope you stop letting yourself be stepped on, be bruised, be left by people who don’t see your true worth and start seeing yourself through Jesus’ eyes. You are His creation. You are His child. You are strong and loved.
I don’t want to know how he longs to feel my body, but how he wants to touch my heart. How he wants to learn my mind, who I am, what I believe, what I think about, what I love.
His love is ever-present, ever-filling, ever-overflowing. His love is in everything that we do, guiding our every step, encouraging us when we fall. His love is loud. His love is quiet. His love is the in-betweens, when we aren’t sure what to do or where to go. His love is not absent.
I will love my body, even when the world shakes her head, even when there are a million and one reasons I shouldn’t, even when I’ve grown tired. Because my body is my home—my dwelling place, my residence, my constant in a world that is far too impermanent. And so, I will live here. I will love here. I will grow here. I will break and rebuild here.