It began from the beginning,

for most of us.

Came in the form of family.

A bloodline that brought us into being, 

and at its best, allowed us to bloom. 

Then sent us on our way with courage, 

and a reminder tucked into the pocket 

of our heart 

which read, “You can always return, 

no matter what.”

 

Its shape then shifted, showing up as friends

who helped us feel seen

and sung our song back to us 

when we could not hear it 

with our ears alone.

 

Then somewhere along the way 

we stumbled on it again

in the soft touch and sweet stare 

of sweethearts.

Through them, love taught us to trust

and helped us discover that who we are

does not end at the barrier of our own skin.

 

To our surprise, love then expanded

into the fragile gift we call community. 

This web of beings bathed us in belonging,

expanded our sense of home, 

and called us to see the needs of others

 as our own.

 

And when our family and friends,

lovers and comrades 

let us down and broke us to bits, 

it was love that put us back together. 

Knowing that none of us fully mend, 

love also said, It’s ok limp. 

I will remain beside you just the same. 

That’s when we first heard the strange whisper.

In the heartbreak.

Arising from somewhere deeper 

than the things we can touch.

It announced itself 

as a love that will not let us go, 

even in our fear, even in our failure, 

even when we are lonely or lost.

 

And when that comforting love 

seemed the perfect end to the path,

the gift we could rest within 

and keep as our very own,

this band of religious heretics 

showed up in our lives and told us to share it.

Born from a strange God 

who loved and saved all,

they now rally around a sacred assignment

of making that larger love real, here on earth. 

They talk of that love that will not let us go,

but they also ask, 

“Is our loving large enough?”

They ask that of us over and over again.

 

And in that asking, we learned that love

can also be demanding,

often leading to the opposite of comfort.

And tough. We learned that It is that too. 

Or needs to be.

Not something mean, 

but something that persists.

Something within that can be beat down, 

but gets back up again.

A love that calls us to never let go,

of it.