I Dont have my own heart, Jesus does, I gave it to Him for safe keeping...

Well...the way I view it. (the way I fantasize it in my head)
is that I've given it away to Jesus until He sees fit to give it away for me...
because if I held my own heart to give away to whomever I please,
who knows where it would end up!
But He has always known who the person is I should give it to,
and that's why I have it to Him:
so I wouldn't give it away before I should.
..

this is an excerpt from **'s mind

In a sense yes,
but there are many layers of the heart.
The deepest parts
yes
He will always keep,
but some are meant to be shared
and yes,
given away...but in more in a sense of a trading of hearts...


No He doesn't want our porcelain hearts broken,
but maybe there's a beauty in Him allowing one to behold another's heart in a way..
.and then it's up to the holder to rely on God to help them care for and cherish it...
maybe God wants to see if the holder would be so selfless as to let Him continue holding it...
My brain thinks in strange ways sometimes.

you already are that selfless.

And as to the trading, the man is not the only holder of a heart. You should know this.

I believe you can, as long as you continue in your steadfast pursuit of God's heart.



I mean that yes, a woman gives her heart to a man,
but doesn't a man also give his heart to the woman?
So they are both charged with the responsibility
to care for and not break the other's heart.
But if they have both given their hearts to God,
then He puts them together
and it is then not even a creation of human design at all, but completely His.
And we have already voiced the desire for someone who wants the other to pursue and love God more than us.
That's probably a pretty hard thing to stick to...

We have the potential to do that. Just the fact that we have both voiced--of our own desires--that we want the other to love God more...it's so incredibly rare!

i suppose in one way, i desire to have your heart.
but it is and will always remain true that i am not the one who should hold it,
that as much as id like to be entrusted that much,
i shouldn't be, because at least in some small way, i would break it.?"

maybe he should never give it away..perhaps only allow it to be borrowed by careful hands...

it is that utmost obsession of his  -
that which he desires to show off to any who would avidly appreciate it -
as long as they did so whilst respecting it -
he doesn't want his prized heart to be chipped or broken -
and it - like all hearts - is porcelain brittle

not strange...
that...
that may just be the way in which a man can most beautifully experience the heart of another

i...wonder if i ever could be that selfless...
when i have wanted a heart for my own for so long...

I really don't believe I am..
and even if I am, the question then is can i consistently remain such?


i know God holds hearts...
and so can men..
.i do not know whether there is some counter intuitive phenomenon
in which a heart can be fully and equally held by more than one...
and as such im just rolling over how hearts work..
.or should work...
in the context of marriage and avoiding the tendency to
"seek to please ones spouse before god"
as will undoubtedly be the case for any man who marries any woman -
if not the enacting of
then the leaning towards



so-
the wrong question for the situation -
not -
who holds the hearts -
but who holds the HEART -
not the trading or the giving, but the merging and the making into a single entity
wholly dedicated to the pursuit of the higher and more beautiful realities of God

it is a nigh impossible feat and one that only God can perpetuate in any human being

one flesh indeed-
one body needs only have one heart

your heart from the screen of my computer,
secreted away into some place where i can keep it :D

Gasped and said I stole your heart -
I thought you had given it to me -

You said it wasn't yours to give - that HE was holding onto it for you -
for safe keeping -
i felt like it needed to be kept safe from me -


"i meant the one in the IM
this one  <3
not that thing in your chest
or..i think i did...maybe i didnt? idk"

"Oh haha! Tehe yes. That one I did give you.

...you must love her a lot

I do...sometimes...i actually begin to think that this love might be outside myself, and greater than most anything ive ever laid eyes or skin on.

This love truly exists?
Is it really possible to find someone who sees love this way?
Who doesn't put it in a box, belittle it, say it's a feeling or a mere hormone
...but sees it for the mystery that it is:
something so simple and delicate
and yet
so powerful and strong
at the same time.
Something to not be taken lightly
but to be cherished and watered so it might grow...
The fingerprints of one who loves to caress our very souls
and lay such thoughts on our minds to ponder...

It does exist.
And though it may find itself flowing through the riverbeds of fingertips,
they cannot grasp it.
Though it may attach itself to and entwine itself into the skin - and those things deeper -
the heart- the mind - perhaps even the blood of human beings -
it is not able to be put in a vial.
It cannot be captured.
It always runs free.
It may be muted or obscured - but in its truest - its purest forms -
it is both knowable and unknowable -
in the sense that one may become intimate with it -
caress it -
hold it -
even kiss it -
but that it may not be intellectually or understandably grasped
by any inkling of any atom that exists -

the only thing that can possibly understand or encompass it - is the entirety of everything .
It is found in creation inherently.
It is in the sunlight and the blooms of spring.
It is in the rivers - the curves of smooth red cliffs-
It is in life turned to death turned into life again
it is in the hands of a creator of such magnitude that they are infinite -
and as the environment in which it exists is infinite and ever reaching -
so is that thing itself called love

sinews held in by rivets rh-rhy-rhythymed apart
frayed like cello bowstrings - the silly string hallways of hearts
a war where the marching drums sound like violins
the weapons wielded merge heartbeats and equestrian -
hook-hairs that snare the steely strings
ones not quite so metallic as we think -
they've frayed like flesh and refrained-
from sn-snaa-snapping -but just barely-
they still trip - trying to make music merrily -
still beat themselves up -with the singsong self-hate they're carring
they prefer to hide in the woods at the moment -
their cries as slight as the winds - perhaps they're out of breath
from trumpeting explanations - or perhaps they wish to rest -
tired of touching lips-
to instruments----------------
- they don't want this symphony to crescendo into treble this time
-  they're starting from the base up -
Happy for now and trying to hold their face up-
they are aware that they could be used
to make garottes  -or grand music -
to suffocate mute musician's who refuse to hear their sound -
or strangle guitar necks as deceptive cadence mimics resonance and resolve-
. . .
.........
there's a duet full of dissonance and you won't-
believe it but by the tear-tearing disbelief
you will timber like a tree -tone in two-
voices arguing inside of you- staccato soliloquies -
punctuated with melodic defeat -
intercede with a sharp or two - cut down to the root, the truth -
result in music i can dance to - symphonies , harmonies, rounds -
we are notes - in twoes and fours - together we are sounds-
adagio acrobatics emanat from where our feet touch the ground
in time, intonation the same as our romantic inclinations -
dances we just both seem to know - impromptu instrumentations-
the interval betwen  these two half notes made whole is zero-
you're a maestro whose got my heart crying in half time
-its the sound of requiem turned serenade - I was Alive on our wedding day -
and so were you - proceeded by a promenade -
of promises -
a recital of something more than just lyrics -
you said I Do to me-
a staff of out of sync harmonics
It's ironic  - I worship with shhhh- under my fingernals
and you - you love the sound - and the smell

Dancing so long that nocturne
turned to noonday sun -
until I , nightingale, and you the gales in night-
are one

i found two stones of onyx
they did differ in their size
i found them above soft red rock cliffs
surrounded by circles like shattered stars
of fire so blue in some places
it shakes and laces white
writhing, like water struck by light-
ning - flecks of sea-
shot upward by electric energy

i can see without  a mirror
into the eyes of the storm
like a whirlpool that wrecks ships
whitewater that rarely quits
unexpected instant shifts when at about six inches away
sideways to sit beside you
forward sometimes (in my minds eye mind you)
i sit where i sit
but envision lip skip space to lips
to sip redlipped kisses, miss,
momentarily slip over simple clever quip
let out in sunshine after a snare drum stutter or two
I...I..I have a girlfriend, but who are you?