Ruth Graham

When I read yesterday afternoon that Ruth Graham had passed, I was struck with something odd. Mixed emotions- sad for the phenomenal loss her family must feel, relief and joy that she is with our Creator and friend, and maybe even a little envy... she seems like she was such a neat woman. I would love to turn out like she did. This was something I found in her collected poems, proving to you all what a neat woman she must've been, to react this way to being married to a constantly traveling great guy that she rarely got down-time with...

Love
without clinging;
cry
if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the newness of loving
in practical ways:
cleaning
and cooking
and sorting out clothes,
all say, “I love you,”
when lovingly done.

So—
love
without clinging;
cry—
if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the length of his stride,
the song he is singing,
the trail he must ride,
the tensions that make him
the man that he is,
the world he must face,
the life that is his.
So
love
without clinging;
cry—
if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to being the heart,
not the forefront of life;
a part of himself,
not the object—
his wife.
So—
love!