Firsts.

They are almost always memorable.

Heightened senses.

Excitement of the unknown.

They can be exhilarating.

First days.

First tastes.

First stories.

First hurts.

One heart, many wounds, all in different stages of healing.

First time loving in spite of hurts

Reminding me that love is not an accident.

It is very much intentional.

First experiences.

But what about the mundane?

What about the other 23.8 hours of the day when life gives way to habit?

Patterns.

Repetition.

The familiar.

It is when the closet door is closed for the umpteenth time, today.

It is when the suppressed longing rises with the sun each morning.

The longing to be held, the longing to belong.

What about the days when faith takes just that: faith?

For days when firsts are not in sight.

For days when reality reveals hours, vacant of new experiences.

For days when there is just enough energy to maintain

and exhaustion comes with the thought of moving forward, upward, homeward.

For days like today, would You instill in me an new love for You?

I want to love You like today was our first day together.

Like today was the first time that this daughter was reunited with her Father.

Like today was the first time I was introduced to Your rest and fullness.

Like today was the first time I found you wildly in the small confines of my closet.

Like today was the first time I felt You, consuming and longing.

Like today was the first time I was moved to tears by who You are.

Like today was the first time I realized that You are all the strength I will ever need.

I am here.

I am quiet.

I am ready.

Ready to love my First love as if it were the first time.

{heart}

Kel