Like The Love Of Jesus
My father was never bad to me. In fact, he is the only man on this earth who has shown me what it means to be loved. An unconditional love, a protective love, a free love, a gracious love. My father is the only man on this earth who has ever loved everything about me. He is the only man on this earth who has set me free while still holding me secure. My father has shown me what God's love is like. I see Jesus in my father. He is the best man I have ever known, maybe the only "man" I have ever really encountered, I am not sure about that one yet. My father has always told me I was beautiful. "You are so beautiful", he would say to me. And everytime he gave me praise I just thought to myself, "Dad, if I am so beautiful, then why don't other men see it? Why doesn't anyone else think I am beautiful?"
That is my struggle.
For some girls the sturggle lies with their father never showing them love, never telling them that they are beautiful and that they deserve a good man, a really good man that will love them unconditionally, protect them and also set them free. Some girls run to disfunctional relationships with little boys who only think with their smaller brain, the less shapley and attractive one. Some girls fill themselves with these little boys, to make themselves believe that these little boys, who are only thinking about how easy it was to undress some girls, actually think they are beautiful. These little boys do not think that some girls are beautiful. They think that some girls are really easy to get physical satisfaction out of. I could have been some girls. I had the opportunity to be some girls. But as any girl, I had the choice. I chose freedom, I chose to rebel, I chose to abstain from dysfunctional relationships. I chose a lot of pain, suffering and anguish that came with the choice to refrain from the trickery of physical, selfish satisfaction. I chose to be liberated from the squandering perversion of little boys.
There is no title to describe who I am other than the one I was born with. My name. I will not say I am so and so, such and such, because I am everything at one point in life. I change. I choose. I gain and I loose. But now, I am a girl, a lady, a woman. I am most men's intimidation, misunderstanding, confusion. I do realize that I am not simple to break into. That is the result of my stuggle. I chose to be silent and loud and firey and tranquil. So all these convictions of mine, they will scare off a lot of little boys. Mostly because little boys are still circling around the plastic horses of a children's ride to find some girls. I chose to stay off those plastic horses. I am satisfied with my choice. My choice to suffer during the times that I am at my peak. Because I do believe that there will be one man, just one, one real man that shows me love the way my father did. An unconditional love, a free love, a protective love, a gracious love, an understanding love. A love that will not complete me, but one that will encourage me. A love that not only understands my convictions, but is convicted by the same passions too. One man, like my father. I have faith that God hears the cries in the most untouchable depths of my heart. He hears me screaming for this love. Not a completing love, because only God can fulfill that, but a love between a husband and a wife. A love that will put us to peace and grace and bright fire and liberation. A love that will model the love of Jesus. A love like the love of Jesus.
That is my struggle.
For some girls the sturggle lies with their father never showing them love, never telling them that they are beautiful and that they deserve a good man, a really good man that will love them unconditionally, protect them and also set them free. Some girls run to disfunctional relationships with little boys who only think with their smaller brain, the less shapley and attractive one. Some girls fill themselves with these little boys, to make themselves believe that these little boys, who are only thinking about how easy it was to undress some girls, actually think they are beautiful. These little boys do not think that some girls are beautiful. They think that some girls are really easy to get physical satisfaction out of. I could have been some girls. I had the opportunity to be some girls. But as any girl, I had the choice. I chose freedom, I chose to rebel, I chose to abstain from dysfunctional relationships. I chose a lot of pain, suffering and anguish that came with the choice to refrain from the trickery of physical, selfish satisfaction. I chose to be liberated from the squandering perversion of little boys.
There is no title to describe who I am other than the one I was born with. My name. I will not say I am so and so, such and such, because I am everything at one point in life. I change. I choose. I gain and I loose. But now, I am a girl, a lady, a woman. I am most men's intimidation, misunderstanding, confusion. I do realize that I am not simple to break into. That is the result of my stuggle. I chose to be silent and loud and firey and tranquil. So all these convictions of mine, they will scare off a lot of little boys. Mostly because little boys are still circling around the plastic horses of a children's ride to find some girls. I chose to stay off those plastic horses. I am satisfied with my choice. My choice to suffer during the times that I am at my peak. Because I do believe that there will be one man, just one, one real man that shows me love the way my father did. An unconditional love, a free love, a protective love, a gracious love, an understanding love. A love that will not complete me, but one that will encourage me. A love that not only understands my convictions, but is convicted by the same passions too. One man, like my father. I have faith that God hears the cries in the most untouchable depths of my heart. He hears me screaming for this love. Not a completing love, because only God can fulfill that, but a love between a husband and a wife. A love that will put us to peace and grace and bright fire and liberation. A love that will model the love of Jesus. A love like the love of Jesus.