Why we do the things we do, why do we forge a new alliance; fortify, what do don’t want to crumble? Why, are we willing to take the heat; even go through the fire? Why are we so eager, to hammer out problems? Iron, sharpens iron; but, it’s so much more than that. Why do we create, why are we so creative? A relationship is formed, when we tap into what we see… already created. Why do we work so hard, trying to be our best; inspire, want to be inspired? Why is a random act, kindness seen as something worthwhile pursuing? Why do we build up, believe we can construct a brighter tomorrow; through every season, still see a new horizon? A labor of love, not just something you put together. It’s something established, through the willingness to do; and the enjoyment revealed, from what has been created. Why do we feel the need, to help the less fortunate? It’s not about being lucky, but being truly intentional. Why do we tend, to cast caution to the wind? Why do we continuously cast off, to make every new day an adventure; A Labor of Love!
Why does a mother give birth, again and again; even when what’s birthed, a life with so much pain? Why does a woman sacrifice, so much for the family; when what has been created, becomes a life falling apart? Why does a heart pursue, a passion and dreams; even when the road is so winding? Why does a man in the pursuit of happiness, stumble and fall; but yet still determined, to be the best husband and father possible? Why does someone show up every day, to accomplish the task at hand; when it can all turn into another hard day, feeling unaccomplished? A bond, not because the glue is crazy; but because the labor put in, love being the result. True love, means the participation. Why do we mold our hearts, fashion our resolve to fit; into a complexity? Love, it’s all starts with the want to create. To behold what has been created, through truly loving the creation. The form every heart wants model, shaped by desperately needing to know; the love of the creator. Making something, out of nothing; will never be evident, through a state of being… anecdotal. To produce an outcome, to truly have something turn out to be, the evidence of what’s not yet seen; therein has to be the undisputed, A Labor of Love!