This isn't a post about romance, even though I'll admit I'm a diehard romantic.
I love slap-happy, tear-jerking, totally cheesy love stories.
And I love real ones.
Can I tell you what love has done to me?
Love gives my eyes power to look past just me, my concerns, my hopes and dreams and worries.
Love sees hearts and delights in them, as they are.
Love makes me tell my best friend that I love her 7 times just today (her count, not mine)...
Love causes me to be that crazy person that doesn't hate very many things in life, because each joy, even each trial, points me to even more love and even more joy.
Love keeps me awake at night, petitioning my Beloved for the ones on my heart.
Love causes me to look at insecurity, at sickness, at trauma, and bless the One who reaches out a hand to help...
Love allows me to forgive the ones who brought on the pain, and
even to hope the same Life for them, that now finds itself in me.
Love makes my heart bloom.
But my love is not forced.
It was a gift to me-
One that I chose first to receive.
And I do! Oh so joyfully! This love has given me breath. It has given me hope and dreams and a Reason. This love has given me definition, purpose...
But this love is also mine to give (& yet simultaneously to keep! What a joy!)
I choose to love.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Monday, February 29, 2016
Goodnight Moon!
Goodnight moon, goodnight stars!
Such meaningless and silly words from a kids book that the little ones I watch Love for me to read to them.
But is it really meaningless?
Think about it.
"Goodnight."
"Good" "night"
There's an idea stirring in my brain. Perhaps even the darkness can be good. There can be beauty there, not just fear. I mean, I know I sleep the deepest, hardest, and longest nights when I am in the darkest rooms- those completely void of light can bring the greatest rest.
Could this literal idea of rest in the darkness translate to our spiritual lives? Or our mental, emotional ones?
How would one regain that childlike innocence to look the Darkness in the face and say "goodnight," dismissing the evil with a sweet carefreeness?
Then my mind wanders again.... I find myself sitting in a dark room, eyes about to close, comforted by the storm.
But it wasn't always so. I remember when the storm used to terrify me. I remember when the dark nights used to paralyze me, when I couldn't sleep without a night light.
So what's changed? Is it just that I grew up?
No, there's something more. I learned to trust my foundation. I have learned that even if the storms cause power outages, I will never be lost in the dark, for I have a light. I have learned that even if the storms come, my good shelter won't falter from the moisture or the wind. The roaring thunder will not shake the protective walls of a well built refuge.
A storm rages outside my window.
I find myself in utter darkness.
And yet, it is a good night.
The moon, the stars, whether or not I see them, stand as silent witnesses to something beyond the storm.
The walls around me stand, unflappable.
The sun, half way around the world, seems to whisper a promise.
The light will come back at its appointed time.
But the dark has the same Ruler as the day.... So I will not fear.
*sigh*
It IS a good night.
Rest is surely a gift....
One that can come even in darkness.
....perhaps, especially in darkness.
And my mind remembers the poem- you know, the greatest ever written.
"...through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me...."
Could one be comforted in darkness? Could rest come in despair?
And another line.... "He restores my soul...."
And the final line- "...shall follow me all the days of my life...."
They don't specify- on good days or bad? During the night or the light?
Could it be, that our bodies are made to rest in the darkness of night, so that our spirits can understand a deeper truth?
If He is Lord over all, could He not give rest in the darkness....?
Amazed by the thoughts coursing through my head,
Of One who can use darkness? Does this also mean He can use chaos, despair?
Hm. Enough to think about tomorrow. Now the night beckons.
I hear the whisper of the Ruler of the Day and the Lord of the Night- "Rest, little one...."
And I'm back to where I started-
"Goodnight moon. Goodnight stars. Let us all rest together, knowing that even when the moon and stars fail to govern the night, it is yet good. For Another King reigns over all, and He is good! So good night, good night, for it is indeed just that kind of night!"
Such meaningless and silly words from a kids book that the little ones I watch Love for me to read to them.
But is it really meaningless?
Think about it.
"Goodnight."
"Good" "night"
There's an idea stirring in my brain. Perhaps even the darkness can be good. There can be beauty there, not just fear. I mean, I know I sleep the deepest, hardest, and longest nights when I am in the darkest rooms- those completely void of light can bring the greatest rest.
Could this literal idea of rest in the darkness translate to our spiritual lives? Or our mental, emotional ones?
How would one regain that childlike innocence to look the Darkness in the face and say "goodnight," dismissing the evil with a sweet carefreeness?
Then my mind wanders again.... I find myself sitting in a dark room, eyes about to close, comforted by the storm.
But it wasn't always so. I remember when the storm used to terrify me. I remember when the dark nights used to paralyze me, when I couldn't sleep without a night light.
So what's changed? Is it just that I grew up?
No, there's something more. I learned to trust my foundation. I have learned that even if the storms cause power outages, I will never be lost in the dark, for I have a light. I have learned that even if the storms come, my good shelter won't falter from the moisture or the wind. The roaring thunder will not shake the protective walls of a well built refuge.
A storm rages outside my window.
I find myself in utter darkness.
And yet, it is a good night.
The moon, the stars, whether or not I see them, stand as silent witnesses to something beyond the storm.
The walls around me stand, unflappable.
The sun, half way around the world, seems to whisper a promise.
The light will come back at its appointed time.
But the dark has the same Ruler as the day.... So I will not fear.
*sigh*
It IS a good night.
Rest is surely a gift....
One that can come even in darkness.
....perhaps, especially in darkness.
And my mind remembers the poem- you know, the greatest ever written.
"...through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me...."
Could one be comforted in darkness? Could rest come in despair?
And another line.... "He restores my soul...."
And the final line- "...shall follow me all the days of my life...."
They don't specify- on good days or bad? During the night or the light?
Could it be, that our bodies are made to rest in the darkness of night, so that our spirits can understand a deeper truth?
If He is Lord over all, could He not give rest in the darkness....?
Amazed by the thoughts coursing through my head,
Of One who can use darkness? Does this also mean He can use chaos, despair?
Hm. Enough to think about tomorrow. Now the night beckons.
I hear the whisper of the Ruler of the Day and the Lord of the Night- "Rest, little one...."
And I'm back to where I started-
"Goodnight moon. Goodnight stars. Let us all rest together, knowing that even when the moon and stars fail to govern the night, it is yet good. For Another King reigns over all, and He is good! So good night, good night, for it is indeed just that kind of night!"
Thursday, February 18, 2016
and He spoke
I lift my head up.
Air has returned to my lungs.
My heart remembers You--
It has not forgotten Your promises.
A friend sees and asks.
They look to my care, and without noticing touch my heart.
In that gentle moment, I see You,
And my heart remembers its Hope.
Make the hope firm.
Tread again the steady paths of the wise.
He says, "Listen, I will speak to you."
My heart silences its noise, its fears are quieted.
With the eager anticipation of a child, the desperation of one who knows I'd be lost without Him, I sit.
I am still.
I wait on my God.
He is my Hope, my Deliverer.
And then He speaks.
My head lifts to listen better.
From somewhere in the distance I hear a song
.... it is my heart singing.
Air has returned to my lungs.
My heart remembers You--
It has not forgotten Your promises.
A friend sees and asks.
They look to my care, and without noticing touch my heart.
In that gentle moment, I see You,
And my heart remembers its Hope.
Make the hope firm.
Tread again the steady paths of the wise.
He says, "Listen, I will speak to you."
My heart silences its noise, its fears are quieted.
With the eager anticipation of a child, the desperation of one who knows I'd be lost without Him, I sit.
I am still.
I wait on my God.
He is my Hope, my Deliverer.
And then He speaks.
My head lifts to listen better.
From somewhere in the distance I hear a song
.... it is my heart singing.
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