Love (III)
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
It's playing in my mind. He takes one step forward, I take one step back. He spins me out, but stops it halfway and I get cued to turn back in. If he's a good lead he doesn't pull, no jerk, just a simple tug of the hand with two fingers.
How often I resist, God offers me love and I shut him down. He takes that step, offers a hand and I out of pride, selfish ambition, or just plain ignorance ignore the offer. If only I responded to God as eagerly as I do any man brave enough to lead on the dance floor. Why wouldn't I with an offer like this 'Who made the eyes but I....you must sit down and taste my meat: so I did sit and eat." So parallel to the image of a feast prepared before me in the presence of my enemies; yet, so opposite to how Jesus came as one who serves, not as the one reclining at the table. Lord, help me comprehend 1 iota of how you lead and serve and love and ---!!! Help me accept your love; I want to sit down and eat.
