Braiding rope

I know why the eyes are the windows of the soul. It's because all I love flows through these eyes. Images collected throughout the day are what make up the threads of the rope I'm hanging on to at the end.
Faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. His back arches heavy over children late into the evening, after hours of wearing his lead apron at work. Love bending close to the ears of the son. His heart pushes away the frustration of living with someone like me, and instead he makes a funnel for love to pour forth.
As Christ loves the church. The egotistical, stubborn, idolatrous, broken church. As Christ loves that church. And he does, this husband. He holds onto the Word like rescue while I tread water looking for my threads, the threads of that passage that I am to be living. Ah, submit and respect. Those are my threads. For a moment, through the camera lens, I am in obedience. Every time he makes dinner while I battle demons, I obey this command - respect. Oh, how deep is this love, the circle of family, the threads of he and I and Christ surrounded now by the layers of each of our children.

You can try to keep me down
You can try to keep me under
But you'll never get my will, 
You'll never take my will to fight
'Cause I was born at the bottom of this mountain
I'm scared and I'll probably climb it ,
Climb it till the day I die

All the things I know I needed
Just keeps me going
All the things I never had
Just keeps me wanting it more
Fighting for it all

You'll never take my will to fight

I need peace of mind and a hopeful heart
To lose this rage and move out in the dark
I am looking for rainbows and shooting stars
Just some peace of mind and a hopeful heart

And a miracle for this broken soul
A little miracle for this broken soul

I need peace of mind and a gentle head
As I try to change the way I am
And hope God forgives when I can't
~From Fighting For It All and Peace of Mind, Mindy Smith~