Marvelous Love
December 17th, 2007Life lessons are everywhere, if you just keep your eyes and your ears open.
Yesterday, I attended a memorial for the father of one of my dear friends. I have attended more than my share of memorials over the years, but this was much, much different. I don’t know that I have ever learned so many things, or considered so much about life in one afternoon.
Life is so beautiful. I should hope that all living creatures know this to an extent, but it’s easy to take it for granted. It’s tempting to try and put life in a box. When we get weary, it’s so easy to fall into a routine. To skate by. To keep life predictable. Oh, what a tragic mistake.
And so, we begin to live in black and white. Our souls become stagnant. Our hearts begin to decay. And it hurts, to be perfectly honest. Not a piercing hurt, but a slow, dull ache. We long for a breath of fresh air, the kiss of sunlight on our skin. We want joy. Glory. Intimacy. Because we know we were meant to be so much more than this.
But while it’s true that we were made for something great, we often forget just how marvelous the world is, right here and right now. We forget to wonder at the little things around us.
In the early morning rain, the pavement glisten like a street of gold. Christmas lights shine from the trees as if there are a hundred stars caught up in their branches. We enjoy a friendly smile, or a warm embrace from a friend.
And there’s more to life’s magnificence than sunshine and flowers and the loveliness of cleanliness and purity. There’s also a very real, raw sort of beauty in pain and in loss. Beauty does not reside in the hurt itself, but in what lies behind it. For, you see, the pain of loss comes only after love has dwelt in the hearts of those who feel it. Ignorant as I was, I assumed that, at the memorial for such an amazing (and young) man, the predominant feeling in the room would be grief. I did not know Stan very well, but the strength of the love I felt in the church yesterday shook me to the core. Perhaps it caught me off-guard. Though (or perhaps because) this love was still mingled with grief, its beauty was so potent that it was almost unbearable. And all at once, I felt many things:
Sadness. Not so much for Stan, but for those he left behind. For the fact that we must part with the ones we love, at least for a time.
Longing. Because in that moment, I was reminded of the beauty the world holds. But I also remembered how broken we are. God wanted so much more for us, and we’ve lost so much. I know it because every so often, I catch a glimpse of true, untainted beauty: a grace so powerful and amazing that I am left staggering. But it’s so fleeting. So elusive. So quickly overshadowed by a world that seems so dim in comparison. And yet, I crave it like nothing else.
Admiration. For a family with incredible strength and optimism and faith. Their unwaivering belief that God knows what is best for them. That they will be provided for in Stan’s absence. Hearing of Stan’s faith was so incredible to me. He loved God with every ounce of his being. He loved to serve others and make them think. He memorized an entire book of the Bible from start to finish. And even when the cancer began to confuse him and wear on his mind, I am told that he could still pray with unfailing clarity. His faith in God allowed his spirit to remain strong, even helped him to grow as his body failed him.
And finally, I felt joy. Immense joy. A bubbling, shining, overwhelming joy. Knowing that the pain can never overshadow the marvelous love shared by this family. Knowing that one life can change so many. Knowing that all things happen for a reason. That good can come from evil. That the beauty of the world will be restored. Knowing that Stan is no longer hurting. He has a new body, and he’s seeing Jesus face to face. Nothing could be better!
Currently:
Mood: Contemplative
Watching: The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring
Eating: Nothing
Drinking: Caramel Apple Cider
Reading: The History of Love (second time around!)- Nicole Krauss
Hugs to: Heather, Holly
So I got eaten by the Busy Monster for the last few months…no, I know that’s not a very good excuse for disappearing, but I really don’t think you care to read about everything I’ve been up to for the last three or four months.