Waiting

I tacked it up there just a few days ago... that paper torn out of a coloring book. The edge ragged, the colors pre-painted on so that even the most unskilled child could create a masterpiece. Belle and the newly changed Beast-to-prince dancing with a rose above their heads. Their smiles, the evident "ever-after" feeling of the picture always makes me smile. It hangs there on the wall... right beside the little card that is headed "True Love Waits." I couldn't think of anywhere else to put it... but after awhile, there seemed a home for it right there.

I find it hard. My heart goes to so many over the course of time. Attaching to some hope and feelings, others a pedestal that was never there. My heart gets bruised, but it's only my own fault, I know. And yet, as I look in the mirror every morning, my eyes are drawn to that card and to that picture. True love not only waits to share itself physically, but mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and that is something I have to work on.

Waiting is not something I like to do. I want the answers now, and I want them to be what I expected. But what I find my eyes drawn to the most is the rose. Some know, others don't, the importance of a rose to me. A rose means the very deepest, most romantic, most intimate part of me. It's my middle name. Although I love the flower because I am associated with it, I love it for other things. The way that it smells, for one. The deep, lingering, sweetness that is evident to anyone even anywhere near a rose. The way the color shifts in different parts of the flower, going from deep to light, to deep again. The variety in the flower... one to suit every mood.

Someday, he'll come. Hopefully sweep me off my feet... the shy romantic that I am. He'll pursue and woo. Show himself to be a man of godly character who loves kids and missions. He'll take the time to uncover all that I am.. every shifting shade, every color, every scent.

But until that day... I wait.