By Abigail Stanton
-
Speaking
for the first time as your friend,
let
me leave you better than I found you
As
the second Abby you've dated,
I
imagine the third one would be terribly
insecure.
For her sake,
break
that trend.
Practically
speaking, shave your face more
often
than you think you need to, stop waiting to change
your
oil, and tithe. Your pursuit of Lady Wisdom has been a pride
and
joy to witness–continually accept her outreached hand.
The
vase I bought, just Thursday, will never
fulfill
its intended purpose to carry your care in floral form.
I
grieve at the newfound obligation to bury long wilted
flowers.
Never let another bury the twice dead, and
if
it's okay, I'll visit your church someday. I never
thought
anything other than "pastor" suited
you.
I pray you grow to shepherd your flock tenderly,
but
first, become tender.
Now,
newly as just "you and I," I mourn "we," but never could I
be
bitter. The heart's desire and mind's commitment to love
are
to sacrificially care, so in this I know you love me,
and
I, you.
About the Author
