Commitment
By Brenda Byassee for the Wedding of Wes and Amanda, 2001Written as a Tribute to the Marriage of Jack and Charlene Martin
Commitment begins like a spring,
Bubbling gently from the deep recesses of our souls.
It’s that first awareness of love,
A little frightening yet exhilarating.
The first look of recognition as your eyes meet across the room.
It’s that first decision in your heart.
Commitment ever so slowly rises to the surface,
And pools there,
Prodding, pushing, moving, changing
From that first bubbling of the spring into a beautiful pond.
It’s the knowledge that she’s the one;
That certainty that you want to share the rest of your life with him;
That feeling of deep caring and passion;
The seeking of God’s will and God’s ways.
The ripples in the pond of commitment
Stretch and test its boundaries
Causing the growth of a deeper, fuller lake:
Honor, respect, enduring love, forgiving heart, pride in each other.
And so it goes with commitment,
Until one day its ocean waves
Tell the story of those promises kept, trials met, joys felt,
Love unfolded.
The waves rise strong and fierce
Remembering when two became one.
They pound with passion
Roaring their presence.
Then, settling into a steady, rhythmic roll,
They move swiftly, overlapping,
So busy in their journey:
Children, jobs, conflicts.
Until, finally, they wash gently ashore
As the stronger cares for the weaker,
No longer remembering
There once was two.
Absolutely incredible!!! Tears……Thank you for touching my heart!!!
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Thank you, my sweet new friend. 🙂
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SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!!
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Wow!! Very good!!!!
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Beautiful!!!! Did you write this?
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Thank you! Yes, I did write this and read it at the wedding of Wes and Amanda in tribute to Wes’ Grandpa Jack Martin and Grandma Charlene Martin. I’m going to blog about them next.
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Love Appronsandappetites. I worked for Jack and Charlene the summer after graduating in 60. That is where I met my husband Jerry. I was a waitress and he was a truck driver. HA. They were wonderful to work for. I worked the night shift. I rem my first customer. He ordered chili and I prayed please Lord don’t let me spill this chili on this man. He being, Jim Fox that had came to the Crossroads to pick up the bundles of The Evansville Courier.
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just getting back to you, Helen. Great stories. Thanks for sharing.
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