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If it were left to me to love myself
I would surely perish;
if you had no other mirror but your face
you would never believe how beautiful you are.
In this way of loving we are like little replicas of God
who loves us no matter how we present ourselves.
Slowly I am coming to believe that love is a kind of calling,
that God underlies this anguished design.
When I walk in the village these days
I have taken to putting my hands in the hands of beggars—
and secretly I bless the strangers I come across.
Could it be that all my life I have been preparing to love you
and through you to love?
– Tom Absher
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