Beholding the Beauty

This is not a confession (because, as we'll see, I don't consider drinking to be an absolute sin); rather, it is a statement of position — i.e. where I'm "coming from" currently. It is not a statement of how I got here, or why I'm staying here. That follows below. Overview I drink. Not very much (I don't like the weight gain and brain damage it does if consumed in quantity for a long time), and usually not in large amounts at a time, either (I also don't like the feeling of being drunk; buzzed is great — drunk, not so much). But socially, sure, and also every once in a while at home when experimenting with different mixes, cooking, etc. However, I was raised in a community and household that taught that consumption of alcohol was evil in and of itself. There was some him-hawing over whether Nyquil counted or not, but the general idea was that consumption of alcohol for recreational purposes is absolutely verboten for all pe...

Got some thoughts swirling about how everyone (even those we think we know) is really, when we get right down to it, an utter stranger; but how the miracle of love, which starts with God's love toward us, and rushes out (if we allow it) into all of our other connections, no matter how insignificant, destroys our illusions, and brings us to know and be known in truth, so that we are at once strangers and yet miraculously other-self-beloved (I don't have a word to express what I'm trying to get at here -- so frustrating). And how this is dynamic, not static, so that it is a constant movement, a dance, a constant refreshing. As C. S. Lewis put it: "Farther up and farther in!" Then I'm reminded of how I constantly fail to allow this love to flow. Instead, I act like I "know" someone, and treat them according to that illusion, or according to how -I- want them to be, for my own selfish desires, and not according to truth. In that sense, I am what...

I wrote this for a friend: "I love you." More powerful expression never made. The Song of Creation, these words cause the entire universe to harken, to rejoice, to peer with trembling at the union of lover and beloved. Come, all you nations! Come you earth! Come you heavens, and that abyss that is above the heavens! Mountains, hills, valleys, Fruited plains and deserts, well-springs and forests Sea, air, and all the things therein Cattle, birds, fish, and creeping things! Come, all of creation, both visible and invisible! Hear my voice, my cry. Witness the mystery, and be amazed! "I love you." Spoken, sometimes, in words, more often in deeds — a look, a touch, a gift unexpected — but always healing, always bringing life. What then is this pain I feel? This loneliness? Where is my beloved? To whom shall I flee when my soul sorrows, longing to be granted entrance to this garden of delights? Or, having once tasted its sweet fruit, to return? ...

My friend Jake Haskins  posted this poem, and it touched me enough I asked him if I could repost it, and he agreed. :) Why, oh heart, do you love so easily? Do you not know the rocky precipice Upon which you tread? Your hopes have been dashed, And tears shed, But still you love. You run heedlessly into the fire, Though you've been burned, But still you love. You break again and again, But still you love. Why, oh why, oh heaven above, Must I traverse this rocky shoal? You take wing and are smashed below, But still you love. God's grace will find you And make you whole, Nourishing your soul -- This is why we love. We see His proofs of love all 'round, His blood on the ground, And we can love. Hope eternal and the Love which confounds, Dispensation so profound! God lowers himself to the ground That we may love. The freeing gift lifted high -- Draw nigh! Draw nigh! Hope eternal, Earth raised to heaven. This is our hope; This is our Love.