Love

I've been sorting old pictures and trying to put them in some order in albums and pictures boxes.  Some of the pictures have neither date nor names on the back. We stared at them for a bit, and throw them out. Most, however, were familiar to us. I found that these pictures brought up memories and it was tiring.  There are many more to sort.

But it seems that the entire collection was taken with love. Had to be, why would someone take pictures of someone else unless they wanted it to be recorded? There must have been love there.

English and Hebrew have only one word for love. The Greek have four. I doubt that even 10 different words would be enough to describe the wide spectrum of the feeling.

As time goes on, love is more equated with sex.  But this is not the real meaning of it, is it? I think that love is a decision; A decision to accept someone else as they are no matter what.

As a mother, I love my sons. I accept them as they are. Over the years, they did and said things that I had no idea how to deal with or how to accept, if at all; but, my love for them was always there. It is given.

There are times that as a wife I want to clubber that man I married, but my love for him does not waver, because I decided to love him no matter what.

I believe that God loves us that way. He loves me because I am one of His creations, because I am, because He decided to love me even before I acknowledged His existence. That's just the way it is.

Ninth day, 2014 - Thank you God for being Love; for loving me; for loving the world so much that no matter how it behaves or whether it believes in You, Your love does not waver; Thank you God for Love.

A bit mellowed

Orith