Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible
comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts
nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and
grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them,
keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest
away.
I will always sing, even if I must gather my roses in the very
midst of thorns – and the longer and sharper the thorns the sweeter
shall be my song. – St. Thérèse of Lisieux
Love flies, runs, and leaps for joy; it is free and unrestrained. Love
gives all for all, resting in One who is highest above all things, from
whom every good flows and proceeds.