He’s radically different than anyone else I’ve known. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. He loves in a way that I can’t even begin to comprehend. He is gentle, tenderhearted, and moved with compassion. He is humble. He is just. He will not stand for compromise, evil, or exploitation. He always tells the truth. He loves kids and values their thoughts and opinions. He doesn’t treat people differently because their skin is a different color or they make more or less money or live in a particular part of the world or worship a different god. He’s happy! He’s sad. He forgives perfectly, not holding any remaining grudge. He is true beauty. He is a mighty warrior. He is royalty. He knows who he is.
I cannot get over his love.
He gave his life for me.
He gave his life for you.
What kind of love is this?
I can get lost in this kind of love.
He loves me.
He loves you.
He loves perfectly; endless love, vast, spacious, roomy love. Room for me to be me and there is always more love. This love never ever runs out. It’s not based on how well I perform. This love is who he is.
He is love. He is Jesus.
