Glimpses

Fireflies. The immediate hit by Owl City that had teens raving over it for weeks. Until… everyone got tired of it. But I never will tire of it. I do, however, tire of people asking me,”What do you mean you still like that song??” =) And so here is my answer, once and for all.

“You would not believe your eyes…” Driving in the morning along the ocean. I was cold, or at any rate, I was shivering. The van smelled so special (I’ll always love that smell). We got out Avery’s ipod and soon ‘Fireflies’ imprinted itself indelibly on my heart, because we were together, on our way, so nervous, so glad! “They fill the open air and leave teardrops everywhere…” The sea foam was shining gold for me, like it had earlier in the breakfast room- that ballroom on the top floor. They could have served us anything up there and it would have been delicious. And I still wouldn’t have been able to eat it, because I was so excited. None of that excitement dissipated as we drove past sun-enchanted buildings. It was only a ten minute drive, or less, but it seemed like a precious lifetime of wonder. “I’d like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly…” I smoothed my skirt, fiddled with my lip gloss, and was so thrilled that first morning. Unbelievably nervous and excited. I write it how it felt, and my fingers are trembling now like they did then. The jolt when we rolled into the parking lot was the sudden leap of my heart. Getting out of the van, I donned my lace gloves and Avery borrowed a pair. Holding hands like ridiculous children, we scampered across the blessed Corpus Christi asphalt. We found the Clarkson’s and did some impromptu hopping about. It wasn’t cold, so what was with my trembling? I was bubbling over like a fountain with a shot of dish soap. We fluttered/skipped/walked to the nearest entrance, but hardly anyone was in the church yet, so we waited by the stairs. Renee Sprinkle said hello (I love her), Mrs. Aschmutat as well, and Phil gave Avery and I quick hugs before he went to help set up registration. “Cuz I get a thousand hugs from ten-thousand lightning bugs as they try to teach me how to dance!” I noticed a skate park out the window, and Avery and I laughed at nothing in particular as we stood together examining its concrete simplicity. We walked back down the hallway towards the stairs, still chuckling (and still trembling, on my part, at least!), and oh! there was Tim coming down! Somehow we managed to hug on the second step or so, before my brown pumps betrayed me into tripping backwards slightly, and we had to descend a few inches to earth. “The disco ball is just hanging by a thread.” Did I mention how much I was smiling? How could I keep myself from it? My brother, and Avery, and a whole four days in front of us! I hugged Ed again. Soon it was a blur in that building, as kids came filing through, and tables were being carried, and interns were flying around like maniacal fairies. “I saved a few and I keep them in a jar.” Registration magically appeared, and I waited in line, not knowing most people, but ready for anything. Eric Fleming looks crazily like his older brother. I heard Tim tell his fellow intern Kelsea, ‘see my sister Susan?’, and I smiled even wider. I got my name tag with the whimsical purple-faced parrot on it (that name tag we were supposed to relinquish at the end of the conference, but I have it still, by accident. And I’m happy about that!), and somehow I remembered to find Mrs. Aschmutat at the food table and register for meals, and I kept hugging people I knew. I ended up in this small room, sitting and waiting for general assembly to commence. “everything is never as it seems…” And as I sat there with a whole row to myself, I could feel the inside of my heart begin to tremble on the brink of change, accompanied by the inspiring instrumental music of Michael W. Smith. (But it isn’t his music that conjures up these memories!) So began one of the best weeks of my life.

I cannot be thankful enough for that wonderful, marvelous, absolutely sensational week! The repercussions still fly through my bloodstream, waking the senses, forcing up laughter. I cannot hold it in! I was so happy, and happiness returns at the mere memory of CFC.

This is why I still like that song.

Reviewing ‘Orthodoxy’ (the romance of faith) by G.K. Chesterton

What: A classic book on the daring adventure that life becomes when Truth is embraced. Chesterton promotes Christianity in a compelling, breathtaking manner- disposing of everyday misconceptions, throwing faith into a whole new dimension, and revealing its most beautiful facets.

When: Written in 1908, this book is not very well known within normal modern Christian circles, but very well loved by those who have discovered it.

Where: It was written to a British audience, but the ideas expounded are capable of piercing through all the world’s foggy defenses.

Who: If you’ve never heard of Chesterton, I pity you. But now you have heard of him, so know that he is one of the most brilliant writers in history. As an idealist, both a pessimist and an optimist (read the book to find out why), and a man of many talents and reams of interests, his writing is diverse and sincere, pulling profundity out of the mundane and introducing it to the wondering realm of mankind.

Why: Because we need it. We need to see that, as he puts it, “People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum, and safe. There was never anything so perilous or exciting… It was sanity: and to be sane is more dramatic than to be mad.” Only when we learn to treat life as a gift, as a miracle, do we truly begin to live. And even current believers in miracles need to be reminded often, lest we fall back into the desolate world of grayness without noticing it. ‘Orthodoxy’ will wake you up.

How: By blasting overwhelming truth into your consciousness. The thing about truth is that it cannot be forever denied, or else we would have muffed it for good long ago. To be sure, exposure to a book such as this is not a guarantee to revolutionize your life. But exposure is the first step for everything, and I hope that in reading this jewel of a book, you will be drawn in beyond hope of escape. And when you become enslaved to Truth, only then are you truly free.

[Disclaimer: I do not agree with every single thing he asserts. But this book is a roller-coaster-pursuit of the Truth. I do not have Truth under my belt- I can only chase it as the most important thing in existence. And this is Chesterton's passion.]

All I can say in praise of ‘Orthodoxy’ will not come close to the beautiful way Chesterton can put things. So I leave you with a few poignant quotes from the book.

–”Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die.”

–”The fairy tale discusses what a sane man will do in a mad world. The sober realistic novel of today discusses what an essential lunatic will do in a dull world.”

–”The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.”

–”Pragmatism is a matter of human needs; and one of the first human needs is to be something more than a pragmatist.”

–”Men who begin to fight the Church for the sake of freedom and humanity end by flinging away freedom and humanity if only they might fight the Church.”

–”We are perhaps permitted tragedy as a sort of merciful comedy: because the frantic energy of divine things would knock us down like a drunken farce. We can take our own tears more lightly that we could take the tremendous levities of the angels. So we sit perhaps in a starry chamber of silence, while the laughter of the heavens is too loud for us to hear.”

–”He never concealed His tears… He never restrained His anger… [But] there was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when he walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was his mirth.”

I absolutely loved every minute of this book. It will make you laugh out loud in unbelievable gratitude, and then cry for the same reason. Please, don’t take my word for it! At only 160 pages, you really can’t go wrong. Such profundity and joy stuffed into this little volume make it worth far more than its weight in gold.

I have a little two-year-old brother who is pretty much the cutest kid in the world. I love doing things with him, because seeing him experience something for the first time is almost like doing it the first time myself. Yesterday he and I were wandering around outside, and he was just like any other kid, pointing out everything he saw. Kitty! Truck! Flowers! Water! Sand! Trees! And while I followed him, I caught his same contagious joy of discovering objects. Have you ever looked at something you see every day, and suddenly seen it for the first time? Or do you go about your daily life, ignoring ‘normal’ things? Humans are so inclined to take things for granted. I’m sure we all realize that, and yet, how often do we really try to change and view everything as special, brilliant, wonderful? Not very often. G.K. Chesterton rightly pointed out that, “The world will never starve for want of wonders, but for want of wonder.” Maybe that’s because we don’t think it’s necessary. But it is! Westminster catechism tells us that the primary purpose of man is: “To glorify God and enjoy Him forever”. Enjoy Him forever! It’s a Biblical command!

But how can we break away from monotony and embrace surprise, wonder, and joy? By looking at everything like a child- and seeing it for the first time. The following are seven things that have earned my wonder and complete enjoyment. I hope you make your own list, and add to it every moment.

Purple! This is a miraculous color- the gorgeous result of the marriage of red and blue. Yet it resembles neither. It’s a color that makes me want to dance when I see it splashed across the universe. The color of royalty, the color of violets, the embodiment of spherical music. Surely if music was visible, it would be purple.

Skyscrapers. Remember walking in the heart of some huge city, your route drenched in the shade of massive buildings? Looking up, they are all windows, reflecting the sky and their monolith neighbors. At night they are blanketed in diamond lights. They are crisp while weighing tons; they kiss the sky while people scurry at their feet.
Noses. These are weird. Don’t go around staring at people too much, but noses are definitely a reason to laugh and enjoy life.

Tides. Sure, we know the moon controls the tides and keeps them from flooding the earth and annihilating the human race, but this isn’t just a fact of science, to study in Elementary school and toss aside. Just think of the intricacy of this arrangement! Every time the tide comes in or recedes, a miracle has occurred. The brilliance of God astounds me- He has made nature His canvas for the most wonderful artistry.
Plastic. Who thought up plastic? That God enabled man to create synthetic materials is amazing. We use His laws of physics to construct perfect angles, curves, and lines in our products. This is cool.
Gravity! Ever considered that it’s an absolutely remarkable phenomenon that you walk upright? Or can sit still for hours (even if this gets uncomfortable)? Think of how everything could have been different. We are all amazing, because we all might not have been.
Wonder. Wonder itself- the emotion, the realization- is wonderful. God didn’t just create amazing things- He gave us the ability to be amazed. This is a brilliant facet of His grace. Besides the command to glorify Him, He cared enough to command us to enjoy Him! And we can enjoy Him all our lives, with every miraculous breath, in every rather odd word of our language! He gave us more than life- He gave us life with Him. And because He died- we can truly live. So live!

As Oscar Wilde said, “To live is the rarest thing in the world- most people exist, that is all.”

This is a short story I wrote based on the much-told, rather overdone story of St. George and the Dragon. I changed the guy’s name, though. I apologize for not having this properly formatted- WordPress refuses to budge in their preferences.

Sky Gray
By Grace Einkauf
November 2009- February 2010

Most children are curious. I was no exception. I rolled in the grass and looked up, laughing, to ask my father why it grew so fast. I wrinkled my nose at caterpillars and demanded to know why it was so hard to tell one end from another. I sighed up at the sky, and eagerly asked why it was gray. Yes, gray. Because, you see, although I was much like other children, in some ways I was very different. One difference was that I happened to be born a princess. And another was that as long as I can remember, I had lived under a thick gray sky. It hadn’t always been gray, though. My father the king told me glorious tales of valor and travels and merrymaking under a blue sky. A sky that always let the sun’s gleaming smile through, before gray clouds came and blotted it out. A sky that didn’t crouch as a roof over our dreams, but which offered a whole other world to peer into. He remembered the sky when it was blue, and he loved the memory so well that when I was born, he named me Azure. I was his blue sky. And he was mine; we were almost constantly together, especially since my mother died. I would lay out my dusty books on a little table in the throne room and study as he handled matters of state. When we could steal away from our work, we’d delight ourselves with the garden, and the horses, and just be content and alive together. As I grew older, he explained to me all the things I wished to know. I learned why those clouds were settled so thick above our kingdom, for he told me the frightening truth of the menace that hung over us. Long ago a dragon had torn apart this land, and set up his reign of smoke in the mountains. And he was still there, though unseen. The gray clouds that continued rolling over the peaks were all the assurance we needed to see that his reign was still uncontested. But we also knew that it wouldn’t last forever. Father had always told me that someday the sky would be blue again. I didn’t know what blue sky really was… even my imaginative head couldn’t conjure it up behind closed eyelids. But I knew that I wanted that blue sky more than anything else in the world.

I remember when the dragon brought renewed terror to our hearts, after so many years. I was tending the horses in the royal stable, though all the court thought it was ludicrous for a blooming princess to shut herself up like a common milkmaid. They didn’t realize that it was because of the exercise I received from substantial work that I was blooming at all. But this day it was dreadfully damp and foggy, and I shivered. Looking up from inspecting the feed bins, I saw a few of the most sprightly chargers suddenly begin pawing the floor and prancing with anxiety. My efforts to calm them were in vain, and I knitted my brows, unable to fathom this sudden confusion. That’s when I heard the whoosh of his wings, like a growling waterfall. He must have brought an ill wind from the mountains with him, because none of our friendly whimsical breezes ever sounded so foreboding. Afraid to discover the truth, I squinted through a knothole as the alarm bells began to toll furiously. I couldn’t see past the buildings, but I saw people running, and- oh, no!- I saw my father with his guards, marching towards the entrance to the city. They were going to parley with the dragon. I longed to run after them and throw myself into Father’s arms, pleading him not to endanger himself so rashly. But I knew it would be in vain; for he was always the bravest of men, ready to take any pain on himself if it would buy safety and comfort for his realm. But how cruel it would be if I should never see him again, and never be able to say goodbye! I sank down onto the dank sawdust floor and cried silently, the cold tears numbing my face, afraid of losing all I had ever held dear. I heard distant rumbles which I think were the tones of the dragon’s malicious voice, and then, after a while, silence. I think returning to the castle was the bravest thing I’ve ever done. I knew I might be confronted with news of Father’s death, or climb the highest turret to gaze down on endless ravished countryside. But I condemned the tears to flee, and left the stable with as steady a step as I could muster. It wasn’t very steady. The street was empty- everyone had retreated to safety inside. Even the castle was empty, except for a few guards. They told me not to worry, that the king would return soon. I wished so much to believe them! Alone, I dragged myself up to my chambers to wait… and pray.

I know I must have fallen asleep, because I was jarred back to reality by a hand on my shoulder. Jerking my head around, I beheld the face of my father, never so dear to me as at that moment. I buried myself in his arms, exulting inside. When I looked up at his face again, ready to hear the entirety of that morbid interview, I suddenly noticed the tears on his face.
“What is it?” I asked, anxiety throwing my voice up a tone. His forehead smoothed and he breathed deep, but then it contracted again. All the same, his voice was strong and clear when he cleared his throat and answered,
“The dragon has agreed to relinquish his power over us, to leave here forever, if-“ He stopped, and I broke in quietly,
“If what?” He didn’t want to answer. I could see the pain in his heart reflected in his eyes. “What is so terrible, Father?” I didn’t think anything could be so bad, but I had never dealt with dragons. Father, I could tell, had agonized over his dealings with this one. He raised his head at last, and spoke in a toneless, controlled voice that I had never heard from him before.
“The dragon will leave this kingdom forever if he may have one thing.”
“What?” I was desperate to know.
“If he may have… you, Azure.”
Me? My head swirled in confusion and disbelief. Thoughts congealed and were swept away like leaves in a restless current. I thought about the most unrelated things… the caterpillars I had hated and loved at the same time… the warm nights when I had played for Father on the harp… pruning the roses in the castle gardens…. And all the while, I asked myself- why? Why did the dragon want me? Why I must be wrenched away from everything I’d ever known in order to save the kingdom? The noise in my mind gradually settled down, though my heart continued to throb, and I asked my father,
“When?” His eyes kindled with tears.
“Tomorrow.”
He held me close and we cried together. He assured me that he would never let me go, he would never let us be separated. But both of us knew that unless I yielded to the dragon’s wishes, the entire kingdom would be destroyed. And instead of being separated in life, we would die together, along with every innocent man, woman, and child who trusted my father to do what was best for them.

With my head on Father’s shoulder, I contemplated our fate. But we weren’t alone for long. A guard tapped on the door and asked for the king. I tried to summon all my scattered nerves while Father moved to open the door. I averted my tear-stained face, but something prompted me to glance up, and then my puzzled gaze was held transfixed. The guard was not alone. There was a man with him, mud-splattered and weary, with hair pressed completely out of shape by his helm. I must confess that my first thought when he was conducted into the throne room was selfish- here was a young warrior from far away who might have contested with dragons before. Could he save me, a frightened little princess caught in the burning clutches of my dream? Could he save our kingdom? But one look at his tired eyes and his rain-rusted armor, and I knew in my heart that this weak lad could never deliver us from such a foe. In my Father’s vacant eyes, I realized he knew it too. I had not been listening to their exchange, and was startled when the knight raised his voice in passionate resolve.
“I will fight this dragon,” he cried. His voice vaulted above the smoke-tarnished columns. “It does not matter if I live or die in the attempt. Though I hope, for your sakes, I will be victorious.” He stood tall, not taller than Father, but his chin was tilted to the invisible stars, and his crumpled and sweaty hair was flung back, so that he looked stronger and bolder than any trained warrior in our kingdom. All the same, Father was speechless at such rash words, and I could scarcely believe what I heard.
“Why?” I heard myself crying out loud. “Why, when we’ve never seen you before in our lives, will you risk all for us?” He was silent. I wondered if he even knew the answer. But when he replied, it was with clarity and resolve.
“Because I serve a king who wishes to eliminate all evil in this world, and fill it with brilliance. He sent me here in your time of crisis, to lend my aid. Lady, if I can bring the blue sky back to your country, I will.” His eyes didn’t look tired anymore- they shone steadily in the light of flickering lanterns. And for the first time since my world had come crashing down around me, I felt hope.

I trembled beside Father’s throne as he blessed the brave young warrior. Vacantly, I contemplated my restlessly twining fingers and suddenly realized that I was no longer concerned only for my safety and my father’s, but I prayed earnestly for the life of this rash man who was determined to rendezvous with death, for our sakes. He still looked sadly bedraggled, but I wasn’t to be misled again. One glance at his eyes revealed the same strength of character he had displayed the previous night. I read fear in them as well, and loss…. But amber courage glowed brightest, and all the anxieties were pushed aside. I looked at my father and was not surprised to find the same glow in his eyes. At last, he rose with all the grandeur befitting a king and approached the young champion, who knelt before him. And then my father banished his stiff, kingly manner with a pained sigh, and bent to embrace our resolute defender. I tried to squint back the tears, but somehow they slipped down my cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the hoary branch of a shivering apple tree tracing designs on the frosty windowpane, and I thought of russet apples regaling the trees in autumn and how they are plucked from the branch at their prime. “Please don’t let it be so with him,” I asked in my heart’s softest whisper. “Let him be victorious.” Father stood again. I saw his hand shake as he slowly pulled his sword from its scabbard. His voice quavered slightly when he spoke.

“Knighthood is bestowed in my kingdom when one has done something unusually worthy of renown.” He drew himself up taller, and his voice resounded with renewed vigor. “Never have I given this honor to a man before it has been physically earned. This will be the first time. You have shown us selfless courage and valor in your resolution to risk your life for ours, though we have so little claim on your life and don’t even know your name. Whatever may be the outcome, you have our eternal gratitude and regard, shown by this small token of knighthood.” Father pressed the shimmering flat of his sword down on the shoulders of the kneeling man, with more gracious pride than I had ever seen him bestow. I drew near to his side softly and leaned my tear-stained cheek into his broad shoulder. When the young knight looked up, his amber eyes shone with shimmering courage… and a hint of tears.
“I will do my best to deserve…” emotion broke off his speech. Kindness sometimes has more power than fear, I realized. Here was a man who laughed in the face of death… and he was trying to stem the tears that welled because of my father’s small kindness. My own tears threatened to return. He began again, haltingly, “I- will do my best,” he asserted once more. Then he smiled. His smile was a sunset… “And my name is Erik.” And without another word, but with a look that told novels, he turned and strode out of the hall to do battle with the dragon no man had ever dared to face. And part of both of us, my father and me, went with him.

Why did we have so many flights of stairs in the castle? My heart pounded as I climbed and climbed and climbed…. I was torn between wanting to watch, wanting to witness the awful fight, and the fear in the pit of my stomach that told me to turn back, lest I witness the death of all our wavering hopes. The destruction of blue sky forever. But with one last wilted breath, I reached the top of the highest turret, and beheld a carpet of smoke all around the city. It hung like ancient dust in a basement, settled deep, only the topmost layer being wafted by the breeze. I don’t know what I had expected to see… flashes of fire, at least. It occurred to me that I’d never actually seen our enemy the dragon. But I was sure to see him, or was he an it? soon. It stabbed into my heart on the wings of dreadful reality that our hero must have been vanquished with nary a fight. The steps were sprinkled with my last tears as I hung my head and my hopes and plodded back down the eternal staircase.
Father was as nervous as I was, waiting in that silent castle for some sort of sign from the outside. The afternoon passed, and the night, and still there was no swoop of black wings or the rumor of fire in the city. But no exhausted knight appeared dragging the dragon’s head behind him. When I crawled into my bed after sitting up for so long, I wondered if I’d awaken only to die.

I realized I was awake when I heard a bird trilling its little heart out. I turned my foggy head to look for the source, and I saw a little house wren perched on my windowsill. I hadn’t heard birds sing since…. Suddenly I remembered. Since the dragon came, the birds had been silent. My chest was filled with fear at the thought of the dragon, and hopeless hope at the rapturous song of the bird. I forced my unwilling legs to carry me over to the window, and I forced my eyes to look. My legs gave way. All of me simply drooped and I sat down hard on the window seat, as if I’d just received a hard kick from an exceptionally lively foal in the stable. But my eyes were livid, transfixed, gazing. When I could finally breathe, my breaths came in gasps and I found myself crying, raining tears on the windowsill, and my dress that I hadn’t bothered to change last night, and my quivering hands. It was blue. The sky! It was blue like the eyes of a little child, like the breast of an exotic bird. A basin of indigo paint had found its way into the clouds, and it had flooded the entire expanse, cascaded and blended. It was tangible music. It was perfect. Each of my tears lingering on the windowsill reflected blue glory. The sky was blue. I heard a step behind me, and I turned and flung myself into my father’s arms. I felt his heart leap and soar with mine. At last I found my voice, and I think there were blue tinges in it when I danced back to the window and said,
“Sky-blue is my favorite color.”

[[cross-posted from Facebook, written as the answering article to a very long and awesome comment discussion]]

Early last November found me in Corpus Christi, Texas, participating in a communications conference. I treasure that experience as one of the most wonderful weeks of my life, because as well as having an utterly amazing time with everyone, I was exposed to truths which have cemented themselves permanently in my heart, further directing my mindset towards missions, genuine leadership, and ultimately towards Christ. I remember one particular class I attended where the students were told to write on a piece of paper two values- two admirable things to pursue. I, being a rather abstract person, chose ‘altruism’ (brotherly love) and ‘beauty’. After we had chosen our two values, they told us to underline one. So… I underlined beauty. And then our two teachers excitedly informed us that we were each going to write down all the reasons we could come up with for why the underlined value was greater than the other. I raised my eyebrows, blinked, and thought myself in a quandary. I mean, what reasons could you come up with for why beauty was better than brotherly love? But I got to thinking. And those thoughts that began to stir within me in November have remained to the present moment. Which is why I bring you the question, ‘which is more fundamental- love or beauty?’ I will be endeavoring to answer this question for all of us in these next few paragraphs.

If the answer to the question seems obvious to you on the surface, let me lead you into the depths of the problem. I’m sure it seems clear that love should be valued above beauty. But is it possible that, before we can have love, we must have beauty? Can you ever bestow love without recognizing beauty in the loved thing or person? I’m not talking about physical beauty here, but overall wholesomeness and worth. Without seeing this deep beauty manifested in something (or someone), can you love it? Of course we are commanded to love our enemies and rejoice through suffering. But when we do these things, is it because we realize that there is some inherent beauty in a person or situation, even if we don’t see it? This is the question that I’ve pondered in length.

First of all, I should define love and beauty to prevent any confusion. I will be speaking of love not only in the context of human relationships, but also as affection, admiration, or appreciation for an object or circumstance. Beauty I define as ‘the quality that gives pleasure to the mind or senses’. And now, on to the issue at hand….

Since this is a question that faces mankind, and not God, I’ll not be looking at God’s point of view immediately. For flawed humans, which is more fundamental? Does beauty determine love in our case? I believe, for most people, it does. We are born with human sight, and look for beauty at the surface. Only God is capable of seeing beyond the obvious. When a man loves something, it’s because he sees something lovable, something beautiful in the loved object. No normal person is going to go out and love a dirt road, a paper clip, or another person, without first seeing value or worth in it. The apparent value and worth is relative, depending on the person. I’m completely capable of loving dirt roads for their simplicity and overall dirt-ness, and paper clips for their perfectly practical (yet unlikely) swirl. But Hitler loved destroying all other ethnic groups in favor of the Arian race. He saw value and worth in his stance. Throughout the entire human population, there is not one who is capable, in and of himself, of loving something that does not appear favorable to him. So, to much of mankind, beauty is the supreme value. In order for something to be lovable in the eye of the beholder, it must be beautiful in the eye of the beholder. But notice I said that this is the case for much of mankind.

Because you see, as Christians, we don’t love in and of ourselves. We love because of God’s perfect love channeled through us. Romans 5:5 says, “…and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” For God and His followers who he enlightens, love is the more fundamental, because as the Scriptures state, God is love. Love is more than an emotion- it can be bestowed, received, accepted, withheld…. it’s more than something like ‘happiness’, which is a mere emotion and can’t be given away. Love is something infinitely precious- we really have no idea how it works, and yet it rules the world. God is love. God is not beauty, though He is beautiful, and no beauty can exist apart from Him. (In actuality, nothing can exist apart from Him.) Beauty is an attribute, but love is something much more. The fact is, however, that love is not something humans are fully capable of. Thus, without God, WE can only love when we find something apparently lovable. There are plenty of lovable things to be found, since everything God created holds some inherent beauty- otherwise He wouldn’t have created it and said that it was good. We were made in His image, and we have retained that image. Of course we understand that Adam’s fall corrupted that beauty forever, but by God’s grace, it is still there. Nothing WE’VE done has sustained it; it was bestowed once and for all at the beginning of the world. So we still have no reason to boast. Why does God love us? I cannot answer that question. No one can. It’s true that we still retain His image, but God is perfect and we most certainly are not. Why would He love something so flawed? And yet He DID love us enough to send Christ as our bridge to Him, that in Christ our sins might be washed away. God doesn’t value beauty above love. It’s His love that enables beauty to exist. Somehow His love reaches us in our stiffened, black souls, and makes us beautiful. He takes from us all of our sin, and gives us in return a softened heart- capable of loving. We don’t love because of beauty. We love because He first loved us.

So for Christians, love has become the fundamental value! And when God commands us to love our enemies, we can, because He enables us to do so. When He assures us that He will bring good out of every seemingly evil situation, we believe Him, and sometimes He graciously allows us to actually see the beauty that our eyes weren’t able to recognize. This is where a certain quote by G.K. Chesterton comes in, “A thing must be loved before it is lovable.” I translate this to mean that a thing must be loved before it is LOVELY. Certainly there are many things in the world that are obviously lovely. If we love them… big deal. We would probably have loved them before we received new life and new love in Christ. It’s in loving the unlikely things that God’s love is manifested. When He gives us the strength to love our enemies, He may also give us the pleasure of seeing our enemies become our friends. Or perhaps they may stay as vile as ever, but He will work in US when we do His will. And that growth will be beautiful. When we love, it’s as much for our benefit as for the loved. When God fills us with Himself, our eyes are opened to see beauties that were never visible before. St. Augustine put it very wisely, “Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe.”

So love should be considered the ultimate goal to strive towards. Even though our human flesh aches for the beautiful, there may be unparalleled beauties just around the corner in the dark. If we follow God’s guidance, letting His will subsume ours, we can break through our earthly tendencies and embrace true love. Remember that, as Corrie ten Boom believed, “Whenever we cannot love in the old human way, God can give us the perfect way.”

Let us love for Love’s sake alone.

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[As a post-script, I wrote an Italian sonnet. Don't that sound impressive now? Tehe.]

Such Beautiful Love

The wrinkle in my shirtsleeve is so light.
Not so the cavern breach inside my heart.
All marred existence bleeds for mankind’s plight.
A shadow of the crimson, blighted art.
Why were we deceived by falsehood’s warning
That we were incomplete and ill-prepared?
For there at the beginning of earth’s glory,
We reigned in love; beauty our only care.
And yet we drove away creation’s smile
So innocent, infused with music’s laugh.
In favor of a crooked grin, and wiles
That made us slaves unto the whip of wrath.
That day the sky was wrinkled in a frown,
And all our paths to beauty fraught and dazed
Until, through tears, we heard a promise sound.
Throughout the wasted world, it still remains.
Hear it in the silent cavern’s recess.
Watch it rend a tree with lightning’s gasp.
Know it as it pulses through your soul’s depths.
Unable to be earned, yet here to grasp!
Love has simply melted all our weapons.
Torn the earth apart out of His mercy.
Seized upon and wasted man’s directions,
Infusing in us His own peerless beauty.
And every stubborn wrinkle will dissolve
At the touch of such a beautiful love.