Glimpses

Hurtling Toward Oblivion by Richard A. Swenson, MD

What: The subtitle of this 130-page book is ‘A Logical Argument for the End of the Age’. And the difference between this and many other end times books, is that this one is, in fact, logical. By using abstract arguments that most anyone can follow, Dr. Swenson expounds a theory which is, in hindsight, obvious. But for those who have acquired the (often warranted) habit of disregarding all predictions of the ‘end’, it will be a rather energetic eye-opener. Dr. Swenson’s main arguments spring from the concept of progress and profusion. Since the earth is fallen, he says, everything good must therefore contain some particle of bad. And as progress leads to profusion of ‘good’ things, the particles of bad increase and increase. He claims that, although the number of good things may never be overcome by the number of bad, there comes a point when there’s enough bad to render the good useless. He calls this the threshold of lethality… and gives a number of examples to show that eventually, our techologically advanced system will simply destroy itself.

Who: Swenson isn’t necessarily talking about an ‘end of the entire physical earth’ catastrophy. Rather, he points to the inevitability of the world’s economy and integrated system of life crumbling on itself. This will effect everyone, since society is so meshed together. As we saw in the recent U.S. economy crisis, one misstep of one company can throw the entire world into disarray. And the danger is that at some point, this will happen and be beyond the aid of a government bailout, where everyone will be forced to band with their neighbors and dig their way out of the ruins of a self-desecrated sea of Walmarts, Best Buys, dentist offices, banks, food distribution factories, and even *gasp* Mcdonalds.

Where: It’s like Owl said to Bambi and Thumber and Flower after he explained the strange behavior of a certain pair of birds: “It could happen to you! And you! And yes… it could even happen to you.” The three friends walked away, determined to never let it happen to them… and guess what.

When: One of the strengths about Swenson’s theory is that he never pins it down with dates. There’ve been people for ages trying to predict the time of the end of all the ages, and they’ve watched their doomsday dates fly by with nothing resembling even a whiff of brimstone. There was 6/6/06, for example. We have yet to see whether the movie 2012 was right, but if it’s not (which is rather likely…), a bunch of people are going wake up on New Year’s Day, 2013, and watch the movie and laugh. However, even though we, like Christ, cannot tell the day and the time, it is certain that it is coming and coming soon. Therefore…

Why: “We gotta live like we’re dyin’!” Basically. Dr. Swenson doesn’t advise everyone to buy a bomb shelter and freeze dried food. But there IS something to being prepared, even if we can’t be fully ready. For example, my family recently moved out to 27 acres of country soil. And one of our reasons for doing this was the current instability of the world. We’re not canning all our food and burrying it in an underground cellar. But we’re learning to live more independently. Reading Dr. Swenson’s book will set you thinking about what YOU should do to be responsible in these uncertain times. Sometimes the most important thing you can do is solidify your relationships. Or buy gold. Or [you fill in the blank]. Regardless of the tack you take, it’s better to be aware than to be

Hurtling Toward Oblivion, by Richard A. Swenson.

I was talking to God last night. This isn’t along the lines of my regular posts, but it hit me like… a cantaloupe in the stomach or something, and I just felt led to share it. Of course it’s hard to re-create what was obviously not a tangible conversation, just back-and-forth thoughts.

Me: God, can you please, just give me some encouragment? I’m sorry to ask, but all of me is at half-mast tonight.
God: *shows me the lighthouse on my desktop background*
Me: But that’s so impersonal.
God: Every wave that was captured and frozen on camera was for you.
Me: But not only me.
God: Only you, and only each other person who saw them.
Me: But you know I wish for encouragement from people, people whose approval I crave.
God: You wish for that more than MY approval?
Me: I knew you’d say that. …I’m sorry. But it’s so difficult to be two people at once- myself, and the person I choose to show…. And it never really works. I always try to wear a mask to soften my piercing emotions, but no one ever seems satisfied with that mask… and even less with my UN-masked self. I know YOU care… I wish more people understood.
God: I do care: hear that film music in the background? I caused that to be written for you.
Me: *a sigh and the twinge of a smile*
God: So… you want someone to understand you.
Me: Yes!
God: If someone did, if someone knew all your expressions and what they meant, if they understood all your secret fears and prayers… would you keep casting all your cares upon Me?

I realized I was caught.

Me: …..no, I wouldn’t.
God: *gently* Grace, no one will ever understand.

I hung my head a moment. I knew He was right. What if there WAS someone who could penetrate my soul? Would I want that comfort if I knew it would ultimately result in God’s singular comfort fading out of my life? I came to understand why He withholds this from me. And I not only became resolved– I praised Him for it. He was very gentle. “But I will always understand,” He assured me quietly, while He showed me again His signature on the lighthouse, on the woods around our house, on the faces of those around me, and on my own body and heart. Part of me still wishes for that human comfort I had craved. But the knowledge that it will never come in perfection, and the thankful awareness that something better is already mine… somehow makes the deprivation easier to bear.

Lowering my eyelashes, the world I see is sun-setting.

The earth, that ancient trebuchet, picks up the sun to draw it back again.

And in the morning it will fling across the sky in gaiety to chase the moon.

Ah, nobility and beauty come to muse with me at wistful times.

Sometimes I assume them to be my own, since they are what I see.

But whatever I may see or feel, it’s only alive in my eyes, my soul.

Invisible in me, I think, to all who look… and even to myself, to my chagrin.

Fairy dust prickles the inside of my eyelids, and I never want to open them and see myself

disenchanted.

There’s a beauty spell out there somewhere, and I don’t know the words.

Words, not to make a plain face fair… but to put fairy dust behind our eyelids and make it stay

forever.

So that everything beheld lies in a golden glow, and even I can be what I see.

We live in an age of unparalleled ease.

Need something to eat? Just call up the nearest Pizza delivery service. Need to get somewhere? Don’t bother pulling out the map, just tell your GPS where to direct you. If you’re tired of the current TV channel, a push of a button will take care of that problem – you don’t even have to leave the couch. Whenever you’re home alone, just text back and forth with all of your acquaintances.  You don’t  need to wait until you get home! Text in the office, in class, or wherever you are! If your room is too hot, turn down the AC. If you’re bored, go online. If the kids whine, stick them in front of the X-box.

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“We sleep safely at night because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those who would harm us.”– Winston Churchill

I would have written you a poem. I would have drawn my pen as weapons have been drawn, while an overwhelming sense of thanks and honor welled up in my eyes. But as I aimed my mind to capture the thoughts which manifest themselves so poignantly right now, I discovered that it’s all been done before. My prayers have been whispered by other lips. My feeble battle-cry has been attempted by other voices… and they shout louder than I ever could. So I muster my emotions as you mustered your courage, and add my voice to the grateful multitude, honored to stand for you, as you stood for us all.

For a War Memorial, by G.K. Chesterton

The hucksters haggle in the mart
The cars and carts go by;
Senates and schools go droning on;
For dead things cannot die.

A storm stooped on the place of tombs
With bolts to blast and rive;
But these be names of many men
The lightning found alive.

If usurers rule and rights decay
And visions view once more
Great Carthage like a golden shell
Gape hollow on the shore,

Still to the last of crumbling time
Upon this stone be read
How many men of England died
To prove they were not dead.

“Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.” -Oscar Wilde

I think I could write a song called ‘Purple’. A song with no words, but a wealth of choral harmonies to wade between. And all would distill into lavender sweetness at first, and falter with a vulnerable flutter, but then it would merge into a highway of torrential grandness, and the color would deepen and deepen until– until its beauty was too great for the human ear to comprehend. It would end in a flash of clarity, and never resolve, just lilt out of sight and sound….

I think I could write a song called ‘White’. And because white is indeed a color, not just the absence of color, it would be thick and firm… but on the top there would glisten a layer of ruffly coloratura notes, which would lend a sense of innocence. But while white is pure and sweet, it is also strong and proud. So the reigning notes of White’s song would have long voices and measured vibrato, alluding to courage and honor and love. What can black do against such reckless beauty?

I think I could write a song called ‘Green’. It would modulate several times, each key higher than the last. Because green is a growing color. Not only is it the color of growing things, but it seems itself to grow. Green’s theme would be peacefully progressive, blowing from a whispering flirtation to intense and eager friendship. If you ever wanted to be friends with a color, pick green.

I think I could write a song called ‘Blue’. Oboes and clarinets would be called upon to play. And the notes they projected would wash the sea into your throat and the sky under your feet. Listen closely and see anew / the wonders and mercies of the color blue. Don’t look for bird interruptions or green undertones, for you will find none. Blue is vast and foamy and bold, and it calls. One could be subsumed forever into such fullness of life.

I think I could write a song called ‘Red’. It would be busy, it would be fast. Almost too fast, for before you scarcely had time to register the definite pattern of flickering, lively notes, it would vanish in a whirl of presumptuous authority. But you would smile, and probably play it again.

I don’t think I could write a rainbow. But I can let the elusive thoughts of such a melody caress my mind… and then I can go outside and watch the colors of the world splash by.

If you don’t have anything else to do… maybe you could come with me.

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.

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.”

[[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.

Do you see yourself in these words?

“Romanticism, perhaps the most sublime of afflictions, is a congenital psychic disorder whose symptoms are evident throughout life. In childhood the romantic writes poetry and dreams of grand and noble exploits. As a youth he embraces causes and fights for them with reckless bravery– which is easy enough for him to do, since he is unable to imagine that failure or defeat is possible. He falls in love once, passionately, and for life. He is spirited, gallant, and bold and sees high drama where others see blandness. He inspires admiration and loyalty in some, envy and hatred in others; he can be charming and witty but not genuinely humorous, for though life to him is always a joyful affirmation, it is never funny. Like the sentimentalist, the dreamer, and the do-gooder, the romantic is ruled by his heart rather than his head. Unlike them, he is also tough-minded and realistic, and that creates within him a turbulence they never know: he drives himself to excel, requires discipline of himself far beyond other men, is ever concerned with honor, sometimes excessively.” -Forrest McDonald

I really wish I’d written this definition. Because it’s dead on. Romanticism certainly can be the ‘most sublime of afflictions’. But all traits of character must be watched, because when used wrongly, they can become detrimental to one’s happiness along with such inherently bad ones as cowardice or vanity. Traits that aren’t absolute virtues like patience or kindness can easily be corrupted. Or simply ignored and left to simmer in a dark corner, breeding discontent or rebellion. In fact, I maintain that to keep your character uncorrupted, you must use every facet of it for a good purpose. What use is it to be an idealist if you do not find the best ideals to pursue? What good is it to be naturally diligent if you are not constantly working hard to further your most cherished principles and plans? As for the romantic, why dream up such beautiful fancies if you don’t even know where your heart lies? A romantic, an idealist… these will latch onto any promising opportunity or idea, if not checked. I’m not saying they should be checked, but one must be certain that the idea or opportunity which seems so fascinating is actually worth pursuing and fighting for. For example, Alexander Hamilton was, among other things, a romantic and an idealist. And he was one who chose his ideals carefully. Extensive study, varied experiences and acquaintances- these helped him weed out the unworthy causes and settle on the ones which had the most potential. Once he discovered those causes, he bent himself to work with a will, because he knew how noble his chosen calling was. Throughout his life, he gave himself to America- to her government and to her people (even though he was dissatisfied with them), and worked along with other valiant men to make his country the grandest in the world. He saddled his romanticism and made it work for him, instead of following blindly any path which presented itself in a pleasant light. And these idealistic and romantic tendencies of his didn’t hinder him- they assisted him in a great work. A fight that was worth winning.
Are you a ‘hopeless romantic’? I guess I would fit under that category as well. And you and I have no business hiding behind our dreams or sighing for impossibilities. Get out of yourself and make the world beautiful. I’m not saying ‘follow your dreams’. Because some of our dreams are not worth following, and might just lead us to a dreary dead end. But some of them are truly noble. How do you know which to pursue? Think of the Master of the mind, the Healer of the heart, the Savior of the soul. I think He might be able to tell you. =)