Side Effects

Some mental images never leave.
During the time I spent doing disaster relief in Lousiana after the hurricanes I chatted with an AMR driver about the worst calls he ever had. He talked about how drug-related vehicular accidents were by far the messiest ones, and he shared one story where a man high on Crystal Meth and perhaps under other influences had been hit by a car. The man was in the middle of the street flailing broken limbs and resisting medical help. Blood everywhere, a scene of carnage that I could see reflected in the eyes of the EMT whose memory I now imagined as well.
That memory--borrowed as it were--haunts me still and I think provides an image of how we often react as well in relationships. Emotionally, we have most likely all crashed at some point. Through intentional or accidental careless driving we have been struck and are lying, bleeding and broken, still in the thoroughfare. But instead of acknowledging our helplessness and hurt we are waving independent arms around, protesting our abilities. Should medical help arrive--care and concern from healed people or the Healer Himself--we bat at them with our disjointed members, causing more pain to ourselves in the process. We long to be rescued, appreciated and loved yet we have bought the lie that we must not show weakness.
We break our arms to fit the needs of those around us, or allow them to break us into their desires. And all the while the drug--the lie that this is who we truly are--numbs us. Often we can't even feel how busted-up we are, and the elixir is so strong to the point that we are convinced we don't need others; we are that strong and independent.
And we wonder why we are so tired.

when waiting seems long

what do you do when the days grow short
when the only sound is the crunch of leaves
and your fingers chill to the autumn breeze
how do you find some comfort

what do you do when your friends far and wide
walk their own paths leaving you all alone
and the wind whips up with a plaintive moan
when there's no one by your side

can you remember though all may seem lost
how to stay strong and fight on in the storm
holding to hope that can still keep you warm
no matter what the cost

will you bow down under long waiting days
choosing to worship though all may grow dim
singing out loudly all glory to Him
He who deserves the praise

will you endure 'til you enter the new day
discovering all that His love has in store
finding He's rich where you may be poor
blessed in His will and way

A more noble way...

Koine Greek had four words for love: phileo (friendship), storge (affection), eros (romance), and agape (divine). Lately some thoughts have been knocking about in my head with regards to the amount of effort humans put in to preserving each love, as well as how long we stick with others in each category.

Take phileo, for instance. From the time we begin to take our first faltering steps those older than us teach us to share, to not hit or bite our friends. Most of us remember those tearful days when a friend hurt our feelings and how our mother told us to be nice and not throw away our friendship. It's generally agreed that you stick with your friends, even if they occasionally annoy you and even if some days you just don't feel like being their friend.

Or think about storge as well. Generally thought of as family affections or perhaps affection for pets, this love is like a comfortable old shirt. Even if it gets some holes, you don't throw it away. Most families stick with each other even after very deep wounds are dealt. You're family, after all. 

Agape is obviously thought of a self-sacrificing and naturally exhibits a long-suffering attribute. But there are still days when it is even difficult to love God who, we feel, allows such awful things to happen to us. We are nevertheless admonished and it is assumed that we will still push through and love Him and others with charitable actions.

Over the last months I have witnessed and thought on the exception Western culture allows to the one love, eros. While it is considered noble and right to persevere in the other three loves, somehow it is considered our right to abandon relationships forged with romantic love when the going gets tough. In my small current circle of acquaintances I have witnessed more than four divorces in this year alone. The underlying assumption--directly communicated to me by one person who had "fallen out of love"--is that if you don't "feel" it, it's not worth pursuing. Now, dating is of course different than marriage but one might argue that it sets a foundation. After all, by giving up we are saying that this is quite a weak love--the weakest of all in fact. Which is ironic as anyone who has ever been smitten will tell you. 

If we are not willing to work at a relationship based on eros--while we naturally stick with the other three--then how can we find a godly romantic relationship? I have long dreamt of the knight in shining armor and now I find that I'm a bit of the older wiser girl as the song goes. She fell in love and knew the cost and still chose to love in spite of loss. What would marriages look like if we applied a belief that eros was not based on whims but could be maintained, enflamed, and--through the ebbs and flows of emotion--even grow? 

Don't get me wrong, I've seen the committed yet cold and I would not wish it on anyone. I'm talking about something deeper. A paradigm shift that believes two committed people--committed to love!--can be the most beautiful picture of reconciliation. 

Yet, in the end it's not just eros that needs the shift. We need to be committed in all our loves to love beyond ourselves. We must examine ourselves: where are we giving up? Choosing not to ultimately trust that He knows best? Love is never wasted. 1 Corinthians 13 love is never a cause for regret. Unconditional. After all, that's how we long to be loved. That's how He loves us.
May you give and find second chances with those around you and may that be a glimpse of Emmanuel in this dying world.

when it doesn't fit

she stumbles as she steps
shoes slipping off her feet
pulling at the wrong dress
how perfect feels like defeat

helpful voices chiming in
with comments on eyebrows
suggestions flooding in
on anything she allows

she tilts her head and thinks
how do they make it easy
while nothing works for her
and now she's feeling queasy

the chatter fades away
as she walks back to her car
the glass ceiling still in place
she never gets too far

always on the outside
she never quite belongs
in spite of all her doings
she cannot join the throngs

in the end she longs to be
just loved for who's inside
but a hundred wounds cry out
causing her to hide

she stumbles to the fight
Goliath standing tall
and cries for help to come
someone to catch her fall

He's coming fast and strong
His eyes are flaming fire
He loves no strings attached
He lifts her from the mire

she lifts her hands in joy
reminded of His price
His all that she might live
to love His sacrifice