Poetry · Faith
Before the King of Kings
Dear Calista
Every night, my lips utter your name
before the throne of the King of Kings in prayer.
For I do not belong to you,
nor do you belong to me.
We are both held in the hands of God,
and it is there I bring you—
again and again.
I do not ask for you as possession,
but as purpose.
That I may love you rightly,
as Christ loves His Church—
with patience, with truth,
with a heart willing to be spent
for your good, not my desire.
Your joy strengthens me,
not because it feeds my need,
but because it reflects something eternal.
And if I am to be wounded in loving you,
then let it make me cleaner, not bitter,
for love, if it is true,
does not consume—
it sanctifies.
And I would rather become a man
worthy of that calling,
than gain the whole of your affection
and lose what God is forming in me.
Prayer · Sanctified Love · Vocation
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