Say Not that I love Thee not.

What is this lie that thine heart hath conceived?

Whence cometh this vile unbelief?

This bitter herb that has mingled itself with thy bread and thy wine.

Even the water of which thou drinketh biteth thy tongue as the viper of the pit.

That pit that ever consumes and is never filled.

Tell me, I pray thee,

Whose hand did support thy head and direct thine eyes toward heaven when thou wast too weak to lift thy face from the dirt?

Whose kiss did wash thy face as the morning dew doth wash the dusty stones of a garden's path?

Who, when thou wouldest have cast thine own self into hell, did whisper by the sparrow's song, "There is hope."

Who, though thou didst spit upon me, failed not to embrace thee?

And when thine arms did flail as the wings of a snared bird

or when thy legs did kick as the angry bull,

who breathed upon thee goodness and mercy?

And why will ye run to the dark corners and cry loud and long,

"I am forsaken of God! I am alone!"

When my love poureth out upon thee like rivers of honey?

Say not that I love thee not.

Say not that neither do I speak to thee.

I speak to my love, if only my love would hear.

Remember not my words to thee as a child?

Remember when I moved upon thee with fear, causing thee to seek my face?

Who said unto thee, "Seek and ye shall find?"

Who said, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee?"

Who recovered thee from sickness?

Who preserved thy mind though thy fever was great and thy mother feared death had gat hold of thee?

Say not that I love thee not.

When thou would sin in thy youth, I loved thee.

When thou would hate and curse thine own children, I loved thee.

When thou slew thine own mother's heart with thy tongue and thy rebellion, I loved thee.
 

When thou wouldest take the hearts of thy loved ones

and rend them with steely daggers of selfish rage,

leaving them to bleed alone with no hope of comfort -

Even then I loved thee.

Listen, my love, listen for my voice,

As the autumn leaves rustle at thy feet and the cool breeze whispers in thine ear,

"How canst thou say I love thee not?"

Embrace thy children and see my love for thee.

Embrace thy wife and know most assuredly of my mercy and great longsuffering.

Embrace thy brother and thy sister and thy pastor and give thanks for my love and provision.

Give thanks, oh my child, my love.

Give thanks and praise.

Thy disobedience is as the nails,

Thine unbelief as the crown of thorns,

And thy silence as the spear which did pierce my side,

And thy turning away is as the darkness.

All these did I bear for thee.

And so I say,

Say not that I love thee not.

For if thou hast not been loved, then love is not.

But this is not so,

For love is and I love thee!
 

By Robert Hunt