Gritty Love

Real love

is not in the grand gestures, the dazzling diamond or the flourish of flowers.

It’s not a stunning white dress

a first dance

or a heart carved into wood.

Real love

is not wet-eyed sentiment; a puppy or a perfect child.

It’s messy and painful; not scented or neat.

Real love is wiping up Weetabix and changing dirty sheets.

It’s a series of tiny moments

a hand on the shoulder

serving, even when you’re tired

It’s a smile – but also a rebuke

Monday morning as well as Saturday night.

Real love is unromantic.  It blossoms in the furnace

It conquers selfishness, not dragons.

Real love comes from God – and nothing can destroy it.


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