I find myself caught between a social worker’s earth-shattering empathy and a Father’s deeply enriching love.

Love is such a hard thing. It’s that delicate balance between predicted scraped knees and the refuge reflex arm. It’s that dance between extending friendship and discerned appropriate reservation. That fence straddle between opening yourself fully and anticipated self-defense.

Love is so vulnerable.

Lord, teach me how to love well.

Suddenly you find yourself in the melting pot of life, surrounded by endless opportunities. Which one’s next? How to extend your arms more fully without knocking someone from their feet? It’s all so big. It is all so beyond you.

“Lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.”

Lord, teach me how to love well.

Teach me how to bite my lip when she falls and let Emilia comfort her first. Because Your love is not found solely in my arms.

Teach me how to open my arms to embrace Your family, even if they were strangers just weeks ago. You are the Orchestrater of kindred spirits.

Teach me to rely on You for discernment of when to speak love and when to merely feel it, that Your voice would be heard over my own.

Teach me how to love like You love.

For all in all, at the end of the day,

Your love remains.