Sunday’s Shot of Grace: My Valentine
Selfless. That’s the word that best describes Frank. He works selflessly to provide for his family. When I whine and complain about my physical difficulties, he never tires of hearing it (at least he never lets on that he does). And when I completely changed my diet in a effort to find healing, he said, “We can do that” and selflessly adopted the diet for himself as well.
Those are only a few examples of Frank’s selfless nature. I am thankful for his love, his patience, his kindness, and his gentle spirit.
3 Comments »
Leave a Reply
About
About the Blog
icanhasgrace is a statement, a plea, a demand, and a prayer.
icanhasgrace is 65% about finding grace in every day life, and 35% about family, photography, and culture.
When I do it right, you can’t tell which is the 65% and which is the 35% because they run together.
icanhasgrace is my attempt to share my passions.
About Me
My name is Doug Hagler. I live in Nashville, Tennessee. I’m a web editor, partner (such a strange word. It makes me think of cowboys and business arrangements), and father of three wonderful children.
Now Playing- Jace Everett – Bad Thingshttp://www.last.fm/music/Jace+Everett
- Donna Summer – She Works Hard For The Moneyhttp://www.last.fm/music/Donna+Summer
- Justin Timestretch – Who's Afraid Of Love? (Justin Timberlake vs Claude Von Stroke vs Donna Summer)http://www.last.fm/music/Justin+Timestretch
- Listen to 'Donna Summer – I Feel Love (Danny Howells Remix)http://www.last.fm/music/Listen+to+'Donna+Summer
- Donna Summer – Love To Love You Baby (disco 70's)http://www.last.fm/music/Donna+Summer
- Jace Everett – Bad Things
- Current Pandora Station
- An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.
Awww… you do have a heart tin-man! Thank you for that Doug, I love you.
For Valentimes Day I give you my favorite sonnet from Elizabeth Barret Brownings “Sonnets From The Portuguese”.
Sonnet VI
Go from me.
Yet I feel that I shall stand henceforward in thy shadow.
Nevermore alone upon the threshold of my door of individual life,
I shall command the uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before, without the sense of that which I forebore—
Thy touch upon the palm.
The widest land doom takes to part us,
Leaves thy heart in mine with pulses that beat double.
What I do and what I dream include thee,
As the wine must taste of its own grapes.
And when I sue God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes the tears of two.
Deep sigh that says, “Thank you, Lord.”
Sending me sonnets in the comments section of a blog…I just realized today that that when I went to college, there was no such thing as email. We’re so hip and cool for two old guys.