Love

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, [love] is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
—1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Give me love's patience, Lord my God,
when mine is wearing thin,
and let it whisper in my heart 
that I have been forgiv'n,
and then love's kindness I will learn
and love's humility
when I have known you will not turn
your love away from me.

Give me the love that hopes all things
when fear says hope is gone,
that knows the Spirit spreads bright wings
o'er every coming dawn,
that bears all things and still believes
that we can be made new,
that can endure the world of griefs
and still rejoice in you.

Beyond all I desire or need,
far, far above all else,
this greatest mercy grant to me:
Give me your very self.
You are the source of all my hope;
you are the end thereof.
All other things are but to know
that you, O God, are love.

Christ Child in the Sacred Heart, Between 1475 and 1480, By Anonymous – https://www.nga.gov/content/ngaweb/Collection/art-object-page.3738.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62473824

Oil

The seed is in the soil now,
but still the rains don't come.
The lamp has no more oil now,
but still the night goes on.

The earth cries out for blessing,
and its voice could be mine.
The water jars are empty:
How shall I pour out wine?

I trust you as the sparrow 
and love you in my lack.
My hand is on the harrow,
and I have not turned back.

The wisdom of the maidens:
I filled my flask with oil,
made ready for the waitingm
made ready for your joy.

But where now is the bridegroom?
Why is he so delayed?
I've burned all my supply through,
and oh, the hour is late.

How can the lamp keep burning
as night turns into days?
Come, Lord, into the yearning
and set my heart ablaze!

An oil lamp made of clay used for the diwali festival in India (Haryana). By Arne Hückelheim – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12395926

It Will Be Good

Mashing up Psalm 126, James 5, and therapy. Set to music by the inimitable Paul Zach:

We sowed the fields in sorrow
and watered them with tears,
but we will reap tomorrow
the harvest of our years.

The hopes all came to nothing,
the seedlings choked with thorns,
but something else is growing
among the seeds we've sown.

At dawn, we went out weeping,
seeds falling from our hands,
but we will come home singing
when dusk has touched the land.

Then let the rains come early,
and let the rains come late.
The seasons still are turning,
if only we will wait.

So watch the fields with patience
and love the fallen seeds;
the God who hears us praying
will give us all we need.

It won't be what we planted
or what we understood.
It won't be what we wanted,
but, oh!, it will be good.