I've seen the shadowlands. I've touched them, tasted them, known them, been a part of them... and all I want, all I want, is to hold the hearts that are breaking from the shadows. To love them with all the ferocity of my heart where no one else loves them at all; to bind up the broken pieces, to draw them into my arms and to keep them there. To keep them safe.
But I can't. I can't keep them safe, because I can't save them. And when the One who does save them draws them away from the reach of my arms, back into the brokenness that tears at their heart, it seems so wrong. It hurts to let them go. It hurts to let them hurt. And it doesn't stop hurting, because the love doesn't stop.
But it hurts my heart more than anything to realize that the reason I cannot willingly surrender them away, trusting them into the hands of Jesus as He takes them beyond the reach of my own, is that I don't love them enough. I don't love them enough to let them suffer through the pain that leads to their greater healing. I don't love them enough to let them be sharpened by the hurtful things, and smoothed by all the rough sandpaper edges around them. It's my own selfishness, my own weakness, that wants to hold them close and not let them experience the beautiful redemption of the shadows around them - because, for the time being, it means letting them experience the darkness.
I am learning to love them enough. And when I can't, Christ does. And as they walk away, back into the darkness of the shadows that will break for their light, I know that they go with a God who is greater than all of this - the beauty and the pain. No matter what.
I love you, Amber.
I search, search, here and there -
I search around everywhere.
I search, search, here and there -
There's no one, there's no one like Him.
(Oh, no!)
There's no one, there's no one like Jesus,
There's no one, there's no one like Jesus.
There's no one, there's no one like Jesus -
There's no one, there's no one like Him!
Showing posts with label Expressions of Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Expressions of Love. Show all posts
I live in a world where people are experiencing harm and hurt at every turn. Devastating circumstances, frightening realities, self-destruction, chaos... this is the world we live in. And in the middle of it am I—nestled never-precariously in the arms of God, never having been touched by some the darkness that some people face, currently held safely away from the black-hole battle for life and hope that some people are fighting every day of their lives. I have been wrapped in a cocoon of tender mercies as I have changed and grown; ever sheltered, ever… safe.
And yet, I feel always a connection to the hopelessness. Trudging through these shadowlands, I am not alone, and every day is a journey of encountering souls. Some of them are beaming beacons of light, drawing my gaze ever forward to eternity and Jesus. These friends are truly treasures of God, and they bless me beyond imagining. And though they are touched by the shadow, as am I, as we walk through these fleeting lands together, we walk in the light of Christ that shines through one another.
Still other souls are broken, fighting the shadow for their very lives. They, too, are treasures of God… beautifully, beautifully broken, their value immeasurable though they feel worthless because of the cracks and stains. The darkness of this place is a sword, and they struggle every day for the strength to hold up the shield that is the Hope of God. And each time I come to walk beside them, my heart breaks a little bit more—for I, too, am a broken being. It is painful and terrifying and miserable, walking through such darkness; and the breaking, it hurts. I have seen it, and I ache for them.
I am ever touched by shadow. It is my own frailty and weakness, my humanity and constant failing to be like Jesus; it is the hurt of this walk in the dark, ever waiting and longing to be swept away from this world of sorrow and pain forever. And it is the shadow of others, their struggles and pain as we step closer to eternity together. Yet there is one thing immeasurably more constant than the shadows; and as the darkness fades in the face of eternity, the One Thing only grows brighter. It is Him, and everything that He is. He is Love, He is Wonderful, He is Goodness Itself, and He is more present in these shadowlands than the shadows themselves.
It is the journey of a lifetime, this walk through the shadowlands. But it is not of eternity. And when the shadows finally fade, and we have made it past the final frontier, our weary feet will be done with wandering, and we will be swept up in the everlasting embrace of Love Himself.
Until then,
We bear the light of the Son of Man,
So there’s nothing left to fear.
And I’ll walk with you in the shadowlands,
Til the shadows disappear.
And yet, I feel always a connection to the hopelessness. Trudging through these shadowlands, I am not alone, and every day is a journey of encountering souls. Some of them are beaming beacons of light, drawing my gaze ever forward to eternity and Jesus. These friends are truly treasures of God, and they bless me beyond imagining. And though they are touched by the shadow, as am I, as we walk through these fleeting lands together, we walk in the light of Christ that shines through one another. Still other souls are broken, fighting the shadow for their very lives. They, too, are treasures of God… beautifully, beautifully broken, their value immeasurable though they feel worthless because of the cracks and stains. The darkness of this place is a sword, and they struggle every day for the strength to hold up the shield that is the Hope of God. And each time I come to walk beside them, my heart breaks a little bit more—for I, too, am a broken being. It is painful and terrifying and miserable, walking through such darkness; and the breaking, it hurts. I have seen it, and I ache for them.
I am ever touched by shadow. It is my own frailty and weakness, my humanity and constant failing to be like Jesus; it is the hurt of this walk in the dark, ever waiting and longing to be swept away from this world of sorrow and pain forever. And it is the shadow of others, their struggles and pain as we step closer to eternity together. Yet there is one thing immeasurably more constant than the shadows; and as the darkness fades in the face of eternity, the One Thing only grows brighter. It is Him, and everything that He is. He is Love, He is Wonderful, He is Goodness Itself, and He is more present in these shadowlands than the shadows themselves.
It is the journey of a lifetime, this walk through the shadowlands. But it is not of eternity. And when the shadows finally fade, and we have made it past the final frontier, our weary feet will be done with wandering, and we will be swept up in the everlasting embrace of Love Himself.
Until then,
We bear the light of the Son of Man,
So there’s nothing left to fear.
And I’ll walk with you in the shadowlands,
Til the shadows disappear.
- Andrew Peterson, “Dancing in the Minefields”
So.
It's not a novel. It's not even properly a story - it is a part of me which has seen fit to tumble outside of my heart and end up here, to the place where other smatterings of my heart are so apt to make their way. And so you shall find it up there, near the tippiest-toppyness of the blog page, where it has seen fit to nest itself.
The Love Tree is written from the bottom my heart to the heart of whoever cares to read it; but mostly, it is written for those whom I love, and whom I have learned to love even more because of the One who loves us beyond all reckoning.
So... yeah. That means you.
Category:
Expressions of Love,
Seeking the Face of God,
The Journey Continues,
Trust and Testing
1 missives
Of Switchfoot:
To begin with, let me be perfectly honest with you. (It's a fair way to start, I suppose...)
It is a rare day that I listen to Switchfoot music. A very rare day. Misunderstand me not: I've nothing against such musical endeavors, nor those who may be involved as either production or audience. It is merely that the combination of electric guitars and drums tend to overstep the more sensitive side of me, which you can usually find lingering in some old washtub, delightedly testing the acoustics it provides for the more primative harmonica.
Still (being perfectly honest as we are), I have lately heard a song that has eased its way into my affections. And – as your irrepressibly bright noggin has probably already decided – it happens to be by Switchfoot.
Which song? It is likely you have guessed that is well. Yet worry not if you have not gotten ahead of me this time; you only make me feel somewhat better about my manner of rambling (a feeling which, when given in moderation, is not such a very bad thing). Yet to shed a bit of light, the chorus is as follows: “Your love is a symphony; all around me, running through me. Your love is a melody; underneath me, running to me. Your love is a song.”
It is not the most complicated of songs; yet often, I think, the simplest responses to God’s love are the best and deepest ones that can be given. And perhaps, if not certainly, the same rings true for the love that we share between ourselves. But I fear that is something Ye Goode Olde Shakespeare (we arrive at last!) may or may not have realized…
Of Shakespeare:
Shakespeare was not particularly known for his simplicity. And as I did not attempt the reading of Love Poems and Sonnets of William Shakespeare with expectations to the contrary, I was fortunately spared any disappointment that may easily have occurred. Yet amid the rhyme and rhythm of such a flourishing lyrical greenhouse, there was one budding verse that stood out to me among all the other blooming things around it.
I found it in Sonnet LXXV (do not dare even attempt to ask me what number that is). And this is the verse's beginning: “So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground.”
I do not have enough hope for Shakespeare to imagine that he is attempting to describe anything but a humanly love. Yet when first I read it, the timbre and color of his words gave me pause. It seemed not so familiar as to make me think that I had read it before -- yet only that somehow, somewhere, I had heard something very much like it.
And at last, it dawned on me. There was a shepherd boy, you see, who used to write things very much like that. And though his heart has long been stilled, his voice was not kept silent; and still it rings clearly in the hearts and souls of many, urging them onward in the love of a greater Shepherd.
The Shepherd, who gathered His sheep in with love and in turn wrote the sweetest, dearest love song that shall ever be heard in the reaches of the universe-- the love song of the Ransomed.
Be grateful, my friends, that I did not attempt to write this post in Shakesperean. Not only would I have failed, in the utterest sense of the word, but I would likely have driven you moaning from your computer screens, groping away to find something more loving toward the delicate nature of the eyes.
Yet I hope that this post was simple enough. For it is that which I have learned, and that which I have come to treasure: the very simplicity of love. There is nothing of which I know that has the capacity to be so deep and yet so simple in a single stab of its essence: nothing can be so quietly piercing as love, nor dig as deep nor heal as gently. Love is the most simple complication of life: those who can complicate it, will. Yet those who see life simply will see love simply as well - the deepest expression of our human simplicity, all the sincerity of our faith reflected in that ever-living ember of our souls.
And in the end, it's not so very hard to see... that it's not such a complicated thing, as it is a wildly beautiful thing, this love song we echo.
No. It's not so very complicated at all.
-
To begin with, let me be perfectly honest with you. (It's a fair way to start, I suppose...)
It is a rare day that I listen to Switchfoot music. A very rare day. Misunderstand me not: I've nothing against such musical endeavors, nor those who may be involved as either production or audience. It is merely that the combination of electric guitars and drums tend to overstep the more sensitive side of me, which you can usually find lingering in some old washtub, delightedly testing the acoustics it provides for the more primative harmonica.
Still (being perfectly honest as we are), I have lately heard a song that has eased its way into my affections. And – as your irrepressibly bright noggin has probably already decided – it happens to be by Switchfoot.
Which song? It is likely you have guessed that is well. Yet worry not if you have not gotten ahead of me this time; you only make me feel somewhat better about my manner of rambling (a feeling which, when given in moderation, is not such a very bad thing). Yet to shed a bit of light, the chorus is as follows: “Your love is a symphony; all around me, running through me. Your love is a melody; underneath me, running to me. Your love is a song.”
It is not the most complicated of songs; yet often, I think, the simplest responses to God’s love are the best and deepest ones that can be given. And perhaps, if not certainly, the same rings true for the love that we share between ourselves. But I fear that is something Ye Goode Olde Shakespeare (we arrive at last!) may or may not have realized…
***
Of Shakespeare:
Shakespeare was not particularly known for his simplicity. And as I did not attempt the reading of Love Poems and Sonnets of William Shakespeare with expectations to the contrary, I was fortunately spared any disappointment that may easily have occurred. Yet amid the rhyme and rhythm of such a flourishing lyrical greenhouse, there was one budding verse that stood out to me among all the other blooming things around it.
I found it in Sonnet LXXV (do not dare even attempt to ask me what number that is). And this is the verse's beginning: “So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground.”
I do not have enough hope for Shakespeare to imagine that he is attempting to describe anything but a humanly love. Yet when first I read it, the timbre and color of his words gave me pause. It seemed not so familiar as to make me think that I had read it before -- yet only that somehow, somewhere, I had heard something very much like it.
And at last, it dawned on me. There was a shepherd boy, you see, who used to write things very much like that. And though his heart has long been stilled, his voice was not kept silent; and still it rings clearly in the hearts and souls of many, urging them onward in the love of a greater Shepherd.
The Shepherd, who gathered His sheep in with love and in turn wrote the sweetest, dearest love song that shall ever be heard in the reaches of the universe-- the love song of the Ransomed.
***
Be grateful, my friends, that I did not attempt to write this post in Shakesperean. Not only would I have failed, in the utterest sense of the word, but I would likely have driven you moaning from your computer screens, groping away to find something more loving toward the delicate nature of the eyes.
Yet I hope that this post was simple enough. For it is that which I have learned, and that which I have come to treasure: the very simplicity of love. There is nothing of which I know that has the capacity to be so deep and yet so simple in a single stab of its essence: nothing can be so quietly piercing as love, nor dig as deep nor heal as gently. Love is the most simple complication of life: those who can complicate it, will. Yet those who see life simply will see love simply as well - the deepest expression of our human simplicity, all the sincerity of our faith reflected in that ever-living ember of our souls.
And in the end, it's not so very hard to see... that it's not such a complicated thing, as it is a wildly beautiful thing, this love song we echo.
No. It's not so very complicated at all.
-
Category:
Expressions of Love,
God's Lovesong,
Shakespeare,
Spiritual Scribblings,
Switchfoot
2
missives
