Love by Roy Croft

I used this poem in a sermon and found it on this blog, it can also be found on many others and is used at weddings. 

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;

I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.

Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.

Imagine being me

Imagine Being Me

Have you ever stopped to think, friend, how you would feel if you were me,
Especially considering, that I, myself, can only be.
 There’s not a thing that can be done, to ever change me into you,
So, please consider carefully, what to me, you might say or do.
 
In fact, I might deep within my heart, wish that I could be like you,
But just accepting who I am, is something I must learn to do.
You’ll make it so much easier, if you will just accept me too,
Allowing me to be myself, and I, the same allowing you.
 
I’m just simply how I am — I’m me — and while changes can be made,
Any wrongful expectations, will only see us both dismayed.
Certain things that work for you, even certain things that you can do,
 Mightn’t be the kind of things — that I can do — or that’ll work for me too.
 
You see, you’re so used to being you, you just can’t imagine being me,
Yet, it’s only when you try, friend, that there’s a chance you might then see.
But if no matter how you try, an understanding still alludes you,
Dwell on this: It could be just as hard for me to understand you too.
 

By Lance Landall

Where shall I look for Enlightenment?

A conversation about paying attention:

“Where shall I look for Enlightenment?” the disciple asked. 
“Here,” the elder said.
“When will it happen?” the disciple asked.
 “It is happening right now,” the elder answered.
 “Then why don’t I experience it?” the disciple persisted.
 “Because you do not look,” the elder said.
 “But what should I look for?” the disciple continued.
 “Nothing. Just look,” the elder said.
 “But at what?” the disciple asked again.
 “At anything your eyes alight upon,” the elder answered.
 “But must I look in a special kind of way?” the disciple went on.
 “No. The ordinary way will do,” the elder said.
 “But don’t I always look the ordinary way?” the disciple said.
 “No, you don’t,” the elder said.
 “But why ever not?” the disciple asked.
 “Because to look you must be here. You are mostly somewhere else.”

 in There Is A Season by Joan Chittister