The Deliberate Choice Of Love Poem by Christen Kuikoua

Every day I make the deliberate choice to love you.
Not because I cannot stop loving you,
But because some days loving you
Is harder than letting go.

Yes, harder.

There are days when patience feels like fire in my chest.
Days when silence would be easier than kindness.
Days when distance would wound less than devotion.

Walking away would be simple.
Closing the door would be quick.
Letting the heart grow cold would be effortless.

But love, true love has never bowed to comfort.

Love is not proven when it is easy.
Love is proven when it is costly.
Love is proven when the soul stays
Even while the heart is tired.

And that is how God loved us.

Oh Humanity, What Are You That God Chose to Love You?
Dust that argues with heaven.
Clay that rebels against its Creator.
Breath that curses the One who gave it.

He knew this.

He knew the hands He shaped from dust
Might one day clench in rebellion.
He knew the mouths He filled with breath
Might one day mock His holiness.
He knew the hearts He designed for love
Might wander into darkness.

And still He chose love.

He did not turn away.
He did not abandon His creation.
He did not close the heavens and say, "Enough."

No.

He chose the cross.

The cross was not gentle.
The cross was not poetic.
The cross was wood, blood, nails, humiliation, and agony.

And He chose it anyway.

Not because humanity deserved it.
Humanity did not deserve it.

But because love refused to retreat.

Perhaps, He hoped,
One day a stubborn heart would break.
One day blind eyes would open.
One day a wandering soul would finally stop running
And see how vast His love truly is.

And return.

That is why I choose to love you.

Not because you are flawless.
Not because loving you never wounds.
Not because the path is smooth.

I choose you knowing your flaws.
I choose you knowing your storms.
I choose you knowing that loving you
Will sometimes demand more strength than leaving.

But love worthy of its name
Does not run at the first sign of difficulty.

So I love you.

In your contradictions.
In your weaknesses.
In your beautifully broken humanity.

I love you in all your perfectly imperfect ways.

For if God loves me
In my imperfect perfection,

If God loved a world
That mocked Him, rejected Him, crucified Him,

Then how could I claim love
And refuse to walk the same road?

Love is not proven in comfort.

Love is proven in the decision
To stay.