A Passion for Love

I am a woman with many passions but I so easily hide those passions. I am afraid. Afraid of what others might think, afraid of being mocked, afraid of rejection.

I have a passion first and foremost to be loved.

I know in my head that I am loved by God. I feel it in the touch of my precious children I have been given to nurture; I feel it in the warmth of the sun on my face at the top of a mountain where the scene around me screams of His creation; I feel it in the gentle nudges to be better and wiser and more trusting; I know it from the truths in His word.

I know in my head that I am loved by my family. I see it in my husband's eyes; I see it in the sweet little notes written to me in cursive and print and wobbly crayon; I see it in all the gifts & tasks & meals & calls & help that my family - both near and far - showers upon me.

I know in my head that I am loved by my friends. I hear it in the laughter we share over coffee, the tears and prayers we share through struggles, and the love I feel through hugs and calls and time spent together.

I am loved beyond what some can even imagine and still I struggle knowing it in my heart. I struggle when life doesn't seen to go the way I planned. I struggle when strife overtakes harmony. I struggle when small insignificant acts make me feel unloved.

As a passionate woman I FEEL. I feel the highs and lows; the ups and downs; the good and the bad. I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way.