He sat in front of me.

My sweet, little man – right at my knees.

He melted me.

Just because he is mine.

Just because he is.

Just because.

I marveled how I have

always loved this

sweet little head.

Sometimes when I

hug him, hold him,

it is easy to imagine that

he is an infant again.

The curls of his hair

are the same.

His mocha latte skin,

his sweet spirit

and those deep, brown eyes?

I am undone.

Then and now.

I love when love

catches me off guard.

I wanted to just scoop him up

and squeeze him but it was

not the time or the place.

He humors me when

I want to squeeze him.

He allows me to love on him.

He believes me when I say

I love him.

He runs to my hugs.

He welcomes time with me.

It is a gift to love him and

a gift that he accepts my imperfect,

incomplete love.

God loves me

with a perfect love.



Completeness resides within it,

wholeness is found inside of it,

the truth about who I am and

the truth of who he is clashes together

and somehow something new and

beautiful is made from it.

And yet.

I walk away from it.

I turn my back.

I say no to perfect love.

I say, ‘I’ve got this’.

I run to everyone, everything

except the one who

loves me best.

Sometimes I give him a hard heart and an obstinate spirit

and he still gives his perfect love.

I love when love

catches me off guard.