When I am ill, I have no concept of how to behave. Do I call to my buddies for assistance, do I speak to the Lord God Almighty, or do I simply get under the covers and weep? Men are not supposed to cry, they say, so why am I weeping every night as I go to sleep? Why do I feel the weight of dismay draining every ounce of energy from my tissues? Why is it that nights are dreaded interruptions?
I know that I should go to her and be welcomed, that doing so will ease my pain and make me know the joy of intimacy, even through the distant ether. She'll welcome me in ways that only she can do--with class and grace and energy that melts your heart. But even that joy they have tried to steal from me, even that distant joy that none other would say was worth the time of day. For me it was the cherished highlight of my days and nights.
I know now that I love her with a love that knows no bounds, and when the day comes that I take her hand in marriage, the Lord should know that I would need a year of married bliss before he calls on me to fix the kingdom's flaws.
The Lord God Father in Heaven, El Elohim