I have been hurt by Love.
No, I haven't been hurt by romance. I haven't experienced falling in love in a romantic relationship only to have the other person change their mind and let my heart go. I do have friends who have been hurt by love in this way and I have seen second-hand the pain they have endured.
But the hurt that I am referring to is different.
My heart has a deep capacity to love. That love causes me to attach very strongly to the things and people I love and when those things I love are lost or taken from me, my heart bleeds from the holes that the losses leave.
I don't remember being hurt much by love in my childhood or teen years. Of course, I wasn't much of a risk-taker back then either. During that time, I saved the majority of my love and the depth of my love for members of my family.
When I started college, however, things changed. I started to experience the freedom of giving away my love to others outside of my family. Not just giving my love as an act of service or ministry, but giving my love and receiving others love in a way that bound my heart with others.
I experienced a depth of friendships I had never known. I experienced the presence of Jesus in my life closer than ever before, and I experienced giving my full heart to the man I fell in love with. I discovered to an even greater degree how beautiful love is.
But it didn't take long for me to discover the intensity of pain that love can bring. It is true what Much-Afraid said that, "... if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."
Those that I love didn't mean to intentionally cause me pain. And those things that I loved such as security, unity, and ease had no control over the fact that my heart was hurt when I lost those things. Life happens.
Disappointments, changes, and new relational roles in my family brought confusion and pain.
The loss of a friendship that I never imagined my life without left sadness.
The loss of community and purpose I experienced at my old church left me in a season of brokenness.
The loss of my grandpa and my grandma tore out my heart and shook my foundation.
The loss of my unborn baby has threatened my ability to dare hope for what I long for in my future.
Yes, Love - and the giving away of my love - has caused me pain.
And now I can't help but wonder if all my pains, which were caused by my love, are keeping me from receiving the abundant Love of Jesus. The Love from Him that I used to receive so freely. The Love from Him that I used to receive without question.
I am realizing now, that because of my losses and the pain they have caused, I have begun to question if He truly loves me in the way I thought He did. This has made it difficult for me to approach Him with the freedom I used to enjoy. And thus, I have been kept from an abundant walk of joy with Him.
As I type this, I see now (if only a little glimmer) the reason God came down and died upon a cross for humankind. He loved us so much that He wanted to restore broken creation and, more importantly, restore perfect relationship with Him.
The pains I experienced were not God's fault. The pains are the result of the brokenness of creation and the sin that is so ever-present in the world.
But God can use my pains.
Just as He is now using them to show me more of the depth of WHY He came to die.
He came to make things right.
He came to make things new.
He came to cleanse those who would receive Him from sin.
He came to show us that It Is Happy To Love when we realize that He IS Love.
Even still, I look forward to the day when I reach the place where there will be no more pain as the result of my love.
As His Word says in Revelation 21:4
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things will be gone forever."
Thank you, Jesus!
Showing posts with label pain and love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain and love. Show all posts
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Growing Pains.
When I was about nine I had bad growing pains in my legs.
My legs were growing really fast and my body was having a hard time keeping up with the rate of growth.
For awhile, it seemed like my young body was literally two-thirds legs and one-thirds torso. A little awkward. And painful.
There was nothing I could do to stop the growing. It was a good and necessary development. But it in that season, it just kept growing and growing and growing and then when the pain got overwhelming and I couldn’t escape my body, I’d lay on the cool sheets on top of my white, IKEA bunk-desk bed, and just cry.
That’s sort of how I feel in life right now.
For the past few years of my life, I have been growing and growing and growing. It seems that I haven’t even finished absorbing the first lesson before the second and third and forty-seventh start pushing at my heart.
My eyes never stop observing and my heart never stops feeling. Even when I try to make them stop. I am constantly aware of the lessons life is teaching me. I am constantly processing the experiences surrounding me and involving me.
I love processing. I really enjoy learning lessons. And although it can hurt, I don’t mind that much when my eyes are opened about my flaws and I’m the one that has to change.
But the fact that I haven’t taken a breather from new lessons for lots of years keeps catching up with me. There are times when it's overwhelming.
Sometimes it’s painful, like my leg-growing pains. There are times when I can’t get away from it and it hurts and I just have to cry. How can I reconcile all these new ideas? How can I know what truth is if I was sure something was true and I find out it's not? How can I trust when trust has been broken?
But sometimes, this process is glorious! Everything I am constantly learning is showing me more of who Jesus really is and there are times when I feel it all bubbling up inside me. I can feel my joy and gratefulness growing deeper and deeper inside me.
And just when it seems I couldn’t take more joy, I’ll see something beautiful, like when I'm driving down the freeway and beholding a gorgeous evening sky with puffy pink-and purple-hued clouds and the sun behind it all illuminating the colors and streaming out beyond the edges. Those are the moments when my tears again pour out and spill down past the biggest smile my lips can form.
Maybe this is how life will always be as an adult. It’s been my only experience of adult-life so far. Perhaps I will get more and more used to these constant growing pains.
But I wouldn't rather trade the lessons and the joy and the deep satisfaction when God finally illuminates the answers for anything, despite all the pain involved.
Has God been expanding anything in your heart lately? Do you ever feel overwhelmed with observations and lesson-learning in life?
My legs were growing really fast and my body was having a hard time keeping up with the rate of growth.
For awhile, it seemed like my young body was literally two-thirds legs and one-thirds torso. A little awkward. And painful.
There was nothing I could do to stop the growing. It was a good and necessary development. But it in that season, it just kept growing and growing and growing and then when the pain got overwhelming and I couldn’t escape my body, I’d lay on the cool sheets on top of my white, IKEA bunk-desk bed, and just cry.
That’s sort of how I feel in life right now.
For the past few years of my life, I have been growing and growing and growing. It seems that I haven’t even finished absorbing the first lesson before the second and third and forty-seventh start pushing at my heart.
My eyes never stop observing and my heart never stops feeling. Even when I try to make them stop. I am constantly aware of the lessons life is teaching me. I am constantly processing the experiences surrounding me and involving me.
I love processing. I really enjoy learning lessons. And although it can hurt, I don’t mind that much when my eyes are opened about my flaws and I’m the one that has to change.
But the fact that I haven’t taken a breather from new lessons for lots of years keeps catching up with me. There are times when it's overwhelming.
Sometimes it’s painful, like my leg-growing pains. There are times when I can’t get away from it and it hurts and I just have to cry. How can I reconcile all these new ideas? How can I know what truth is if I was sure something was true and I find out it's not? How can I trust when trust has been broken?
But sometimes, this process is glorious! Everything I am constantly learning is showing me more of who Jesus really is and there are times when I feel it all bubbling up inside me. I can feel my joy and gratefulness growing deeper and deeper inside me.
And just when it seems I couldn’t take more joy, I’ll see something beautiful, like when I'm driving down the freeway and beholding a gorgeous evening sky with puffy pink-and purple-hued clouds and the sun behind it all illuminating the colors and streaming out beyond the edges. Those are the moments when my tears again pour out and spill down past the biggest smile my lips can form.
Maybe this is how life will always be as an adult. It’s been my only experience of adult-life so far. Perhaps I will get more and more used to these constant growing pains.
But I wouldn't rather trade the lessons and the joy and the deep satisfaction when God finally illuminates the answers for anything, despite all the pain involved.
Has God been expanding anything in your heart lately? Do you ever feel overwhelmed with observations and lesson-learning in life?
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Heidi-at-Twenty-Three
Sometimes, I miss Heidi-at-twenty.
Heidi-at-twenty knew much more than Heidi-at-twenty-three.
Heidi-at-twenty knew what she stood for and why. She had strong opinions and she had answers to questions. She was good at coloring her world in black-and-white. She was especially good at knowing how to read the Bible and guide her life by it. Heidi-at-twenty knew how to have a relationship with Jesus.
But Heidi-at-twenty-three is different. Heidi-at-twenty-three has been doing some dangerous things.
Heidi-at-twenty-three has been listening intently to many women’s stories. She has been reading raw and honest writings about people’s life experiences. She has been observing individuals in her life undergo heartache and struggle. She has literally watched loved ones pass away from temporal life into eternal life. She has experienced certain types of pain that she hadn’t planned on experiencing.
Heidi-at-twenty-three doesn’t have all the answers.
Heidi-at-twenty-three is unsure how all the new colors she has discovered are supposed to fit into a previously black-and-white frame.
She is asking questions of God’s character. She is wondering how an abundant relationship with Him works.
She has questions.
And when Heidi-at-twenty-three goes back to ask Heidi-at-twenty those questions, Heidi-at-twenty is able to give answers.
But somehow, Heidi-at-twenty-three doesn’t think those answers are quite right. She may not yet know the answers herself, but she has a stirring feeling that the answers cannot be contained in the simple sentences that Heidi-at-twenty gives.
And when I realize that those answers are no longer satisfactory, I don’t think I really miss Heidi-at-twenty so much. In fact, I believe I am beginning to really enjoy Heidi-at-twenty-three.
I am discovering that it is okay that Heidi-at-twenty-three doesn’t have all the answers. I sort of like the way she is willing to listen to other people’s perspectives and stay open to maybe even changing her mind. I’m getting used to the fact that her compassionate heart often hurts these days as she keeps exposing herself to reality.
But what I like the most about Heidi-at-twenty-three is that she has learned that she doesn’t have to understand everything about Jesus in order to trust Him and in order to follow Him.
And as long as she keeps believing THAT, then I think Heidi-at-twenty-three and I will get along just fine.
Heidi-at-twenty knew much more than Heidi-at-twenty-three.
Heidi-at-twenty knew what she stood for and why. She had strong opinions and she had answers to questions. She was good at coloring her world in black-and-white. She was especially good at knowing how to read the Bible and guide her life by it. Heidi-at-twenty knew how to have a relationship with Jesus.
But Heidi-at-twenty-three is different. Heidi-at-twenty-three has been doing some dangerous things.
Heidi-at-twenty-three has been listening intently to many women’s stories. She has been reading raw and honest writings about people’s life experiences. She has been observing individuals in her life undergo heartache and struggle. She has literally watched loved ones pass away from temporal life into eternal life. She has experienced certain types of pain that she hadn’t planned on experiencing.
Heidi-at-twenty-three doesn’t have all the answers.
Heidi-at-twenty-three is unsure how all the new colors she has discovered are supposed to fit into a previously black-and-white frame.
She is asking questions of God’s character. She is wondering how an abundant relationship with Him works.
She has questions.
And when Heidi-at-twenty-three goes back to ask Heidi-at-twenty those questions, Heidi-at-twenty is able to give answers.
But somehow, Heidi-at-twenty-three doesn’t think those answers are quite right. She may not yet know the answers herself, but she has a stirring feeling that the answers cannot be contained in the simple sentences that Heidi-at-twenty gives.
And when I realize that those answers are no longer satisfactory, I don’t think I really miss Heidi-at-twenty so much. In fact, I believe I am beginning to really enjoy Heidi-at-twenty-three.
I am discovering that it is okay that Heidi-at-twenty-three doesn’t have all the answers. I sort of like the way she is willing to listen to other people’s perspectives and stay open to maybe even changing her mind. I’m getting used to the fact that her compassionate heart often hurts these days as she keeps exposing herself to reality.
But what I like the most about Heidi-at-twenty-three is that she has learned that she doesn’t have to understand everything about Jesus in order to trust Him and in order to follow Him.
And as long as she keeps believing THAT, then I think Heidi-at-twenty-three and I will get along just fine.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
This Side of the Give-and-Take-Away Line
I was doing good.
I was adjusting to what God has allowed in my life. I was adjusting to what He had allowed to be taken away. I was getting ready to roll up my sleeves for what is to come. And, I was actually getting excited for the direction I am headed.
And THEN….
…I read a facebook status. (those things are awesome, aren’t they?) It was written by an old friend from my high school church youth group.
After I read that status I was, all of a sudden, NOT okay anymore.
All at once, all of my desires were thrown in my face from someone who has (seemingly) exactly what I want and what I almost had.
Jealousy instantly threw itself over me and covered me like a dark, thick blanket.
Suffocating.
Heavy.
Blinding.
“Why did you take MY baby away and allow her to keep hers?” “Why does she get this lifestyle and not ME?”
Normally, I’m not a super jealous person. I do struggle with it sometimes, though. And I definitely have a struggle with comparing myself to others. This time, the jealousy hit HARD.
This July, I have been remembering last July. Last July was a month of joy. It was a month of pregnancy. It was a month of the promise of the life of which I have dreamed. Motherhood.
August 8th, 2009, that dream was stolen from me. I don’t know when it will be returned.
I am happy for my old friend. But my heart hurts for myself.
The thing is, I don’t want it to. I really just want my heart to focus on how God is teaching me, molding me, going to use me, blessing me, walking with me, etc, etc, etc….
I’m gonna have to ask the Lord for a little more help on this one right now.
I didn’t expect life to be fair. I guess I just didn’t expect to be on this end of the give-and-take-away line.
It’s hard watching people live on the “give” side of the line when you’re on the “take-away” side of the line.
Hmmmm…perhaps I should limit the amount of facebook statuses I read? :-)
Forgive my wandering eyes, Lord. Help me not to be like Peter when he asked, “Lord, what about him?” and You answered, “…what concern is that of yours? You follow Me.” Please give me that heart with eyes only focused on following You. Help me to accept what You allow in my life and help me to not become bitter when You take away.
What about YOU? Do you ever struggle with jealously when someone else has something you desire?
I was adjusting to what God has allowed in my life. I was adjusting to what He had allowed to be taken away. I was getting ready to roll up my sleeves for what is to come. And, I was actually getting excited for the direction I am headed.
And THEN….
…I read a facebook status. (those things are awesome, aren’t they?) It was written by an old friend from my high school church youth group.
After I read that status I was, all of a sudden, NOT okay anymore.
All at once, all of my desires were thrown in my face from someone who has (seemingly) exactly what I want and what I almost had.
Jealousy instantly threw itself over me and covered me like a dark, thick blanket.
Suffocating.
Heavy.
Blinding.
“Why did you take MY baby away and allow her to keep hers?” “Why does she get this lifestyle and not ME?”
Normally, I’m not a super jealous person. I do struggle with it sometimes, though. And I definitely have a struggle with comparing myself to others. This time, the jealousy hit HARD.
This July, I have been remembering last July. Last July was a month of joy. It was a month of pregnancy. It was a month of the promise of the life of which I have dreamed. Motherhood.
August 8th, 2009, that dream was stolen from me. I don’t know when it will be returned.
I am happy for my old friend. But my heart hurts for myself.
The thing is, I don’t want it to. I really just want my heart to focus on how God is teaching me, molding me, going to use me, blessing me, walking with me, etc, etc, etc….
I’m gonna have to ask the Lord for a little more help on this one right now.
I didn’t expect life to be fair. I guess I just didn’t expect to be on this end of the give-and-take-away line.
It’s hard watching people live on the “give” side of the line when you’re on the “take-away” side of the line.
Hmmmm…perhaps I should limit the amount of facebook statuses I read? :-)
Forgive my wandering eyes, Lord. Help me not to be like Peter when he asked, “Lord, what about him?” and You answered, “…what concern is that of yours? You follow Me.” Please give me that heart with eyes only focused on following You. Help me to accept what You allow in my life and help me to not become bitter when You take away.
What about YOU? Do you ever struggle with jealously when someone else has something you desire?
Monday, July 26, 2010
Lasts and Firsts (with my sister)
Part Three of the LASTS series.
For Part One, click here.
For Part Two, click here.
I sat down for my thirteen-(almost fourteen)-year-old sister’s performance of the musical “Honk!” in which she was playing the lead role of the mother duck Ida. I casually perused through the program and started reading the bio’s of all the cast members. Then I got to my sister’s bio and I almost stopped breathing. Then I started crying.
9th grader? She’s described as a 9th grader?
You see for me, talking about an idea sometimes holds less impact than seeing the raw facts written on paper. And here it was, in print, the truth that my little sister is now a 9th grader. A high-schooler. She may not yet have experienced her first day of high school but she graduated from the 8th grade a month ago. She knows what choirs she will be singing in next year. And she has her class schedule all figured out. Yes, she is a 9th grader.
Usually, at least for me, a first is easier than a last. You know, the last of something usually holds such finality with no going back and it makes you want to hold on and remember every memory you possibly can. On the other hand, a first is full of such promise with a blank slate for the memories to decorate one-by-one. There is (usually) less to grieve with a “first” because it the start -not the ending- of something.
But this time is different. This time the last is much easier than the first.
The last, Chrissy’s eight grade graduation, wasn’t that hard for me. Yes, I was sentimental. I was beaming with pride to see how gorgeous she looked. I was proud to hear her sing the national anthem to start the ceremony. It all felt right. She seemed so ready. She had fit a lot into her 3-year junior high experience and it just seemed like she was ready for the next chapter.
But this first! This first day of high school, this first day of freshman year, this first of such a new season for her - this first is what is catching my throat even still.
In this big first of my sister’s life, I am experiencing again how pain is such big part of love.
The pain of letting go, the pain of selfishly desiring her to stay young so I can always have her as my “little” sister, the pain of being proud and having my heart hurt and my eyes fill with tears because she is developing with so much talent and inner and outer beauty.
It just hurts.
It *almost* makes me afraid of someday being a mom because if this is how I feel about my younger sister, I don’t know WHAT I am going to do when I go through these experiences with my own children!
As I let go and embrace this new season in my sister’s life, I am excited to see what these next four years will bring for her. I am so grateful that she loves Jesus and that she proudly expresses a desire to continually grow in her relationship with Him.
I can’t wait to see what beautiful things she will do and what beautiful things will be created inside her.
Thank you, Lord, for this new season. Thank you for all the joy it has brought me to be a part of my sister’s life from the day she was born. Thank you for who you have crafted her to be and please give me peace and joy knowing that it is You that is molding her, walking with her, and protecting her. Thank you for my sister.
What about YOU? Is there anything you are having a hard time letting go of?
For Part One, click here.
For Part Two, click here.
I sat down for my thirteen-(almost fourteen)-year-old sister’s performance of the musical “Honk!” in which she was playing the lead role of the mother duck Ida. I casually perused through the program and started reading the bio’s of all the cast members. Then I got to my sister’s bio and I almost stopped breathing. Then I started crying.
9th grader? She’s described as a 9th grader?
You see for me, talking about an idea sometimes holds less impact than seeing the raw facts written on paper. And here it was, in print, the truth that my little sister is now a 9th grader. A high-schooler. She may not yet have experienced her first day of high school but she graduated from the 8th grade a month ago. She knows what choirs she will be singing in next year. And she has her class schedule all figured out. Yes, she is a 9th grader.
Usually, at least for me, a first is easier than a last. You know, the last of something usually holds such finality with no going back and it makes you want to hold on and remember every memory you possibly can. On the other hand, a first is full of such promise with a blank slate for the memories to decorate one-by-one. There is (usually) less to grieve with a “first” because it the start -not the ending- of something.
But this time is different. This time the last is much easier than the first.
The last, Chrissy’s eight grade graduation, wasn’t that hard for me. Yes, I was sentimental. I was beaming with pride to see how gorgeous she looked. I was proud to hear her sing the national anthem to start the ceremony. It all felt right. She seemed so ready. She had fit a lot into her 3-year junior high experience and it just seemed like she was ready for the next chapter.
But this first! This first day of high school, this first day of freshman year, this first of such a new season for her - this first is what is catching my throat even still.
In this big first of my sister’s life, I am experiencing again how pain is such big part of love.
The pain of letting go, the pain of selfishly desiring her to stay young so I can always have her as my “little” sister, the pain of being proud and having my heart hurt and my eyes fill with tears because she is developing with so much talent and inner and outer beauty.
It just hurts.
It *almost* makes me afraid of someday being a mom because if this is how I feel about my younger sister, I don’t know WHAT I am going to do when I go through these experiences with my own children!
As I let go and embrace this new season in my sister’s life, I am excited to see what these next four years will bring for her. I am so grateful that she loves Jesus and that she proudly expresses a desire to continually grow in her relationship with Him.
I can’t wait to see what beautiful things she will do and what beautiful things will be created inside her.
Thank you, Lord, for this new season. Thank you for all the joy it has brought me to be a part of my sister’s life from the day she was born. Thank you for who you have crafted her to be and please give me peace and joy knowing that it is You that is molding her, walking with her, and protecting her. Thank you for my sister.
What about YOU? Is there anything you are having a hard time letting go of?
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
LASTS. Part one.
Ever since yesterday, I have been thinking about LASTS.
Well, I think about "lasts" more often than just since yesterday, but I have been thinking about them in a more focused manner since reading the following post by one of my favorite bloggers, Sarah Markley.
"LASTS"
Go ahead, click on the link. It is a beautifully written post. You will love it.
So anyway, her post (which I'm sure you've read by now), has been making me think of all the "lasts" I have experienced and how some of them have been painfully beautiful, some of them have been difficult but necessary, and others were just hard.
In the next few days, I'll be describing more of my thoughts on some of my own "lasts".
Ending Day of Freshman Year...
Last weeks with Grandpa...
Last month and moments with Grandma...
Last Day of a beautiful month and a half of pregnancy...
Graduation Day for my (former) eight-grade sister...
....to name a few experiences.
So come back tomorrow, and together let's explore the concept of cherishing the "lasts" in our lives.
What about YOU? Are there any "lasts" that you have been thinking of with a smile or grieving over?
Part Two of the LASTS series, click here.
Part Three of the LASTS series, click here.
Part Four of the LASTS series, click here.
Well, I think about "lasts" more often than just since yesterday, but I have been thinking about them in a more focused manner since reading the following post by one of my favorite bloggers, Sarah Markley.
"LASTS"
Go ahead, click on the link. It is a beautifully written post. You will love it.
So anyway, her post (which I'm sure you've read by now), has been making me think of all the "lasts" I have experienced and how some of them have been painfully beautiful, some of them have been difficult but necessary, and others were just hard.
In the next few days, I'll be describing more of my thoughts on some of my own "lasts".
Ending Day of Freshman Year...
Last weeks with Grandpa...
Last month and moments with Grandma...
Last Day of a beautiful month and a half of pregnancy...
Graduation Day for my (former) eight-grade sister...
....to name a few experiences.
So come back tomorrow, and together let's explore the concept of cherishing the "lasts" in our lives.
What about YOU? Are there any "lasts" that you have been thinking of with a smile or grieving over?
Part Two of the LASTS series, click here.
Part Three of the LASTS series, click here.
Part Four of the LASTS series, click here.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Reality Hurts.
My heart felt heavy today.
My body and mind were much better than yesterday thanks to more proactive nutrition and proper sleep (Like I said in yesterday's post, I promised to learn from my previous days mistakes)
But my heart was grieved. It was burdened.
I thought I knew why but I kept pushing that reason out of my mind.
Really, Heidi, a fictional movie? That was last night, it is early afternoon the next day! Those weren’t even real people or a factual story!
But there’s no getting around it. The movie was the reason for my heaviness of heart.
It wasn’t that I was wrapped up in the fictional storyline or characters of the movie. It was what the movie represented. Truth and Reality. While that specific story may not have happened, many many others just like it have.
Curiosity leading to devastation.
Stolen Innocence.
Lies.
Objectified Women.
Selfish desires and Lust.
I don’t want to believe that stuff is true. I don’t want to believe those hurts exist. I want to wish those pains away. Why? Because I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.
When my eyes are opened like that, it makes my heart ache.
I know that part of this is the process of God showing me the hurts in the world. Showing me reality. It is something I want to run from but I can’t turn off real life like I can turn off a DVD.
Like I wrote about before, love is mixed with pain. I love people. I love that every person has inherent worth because they were created in the image of God. And I hate when that worth is unrightly and unjustly taken from them.
I pray that God will show me how to use my compassion in a useful way and I pray that I won't run if it hurts.
By the way, the movie was The Preacher’s Kid. Excellent movie, compelling story, and beautiful ending. In my opinion, though, a little too heavy for those under high school age.
My body and mind were much better than yesterday thanks to more proactive nutrition and proper sleep (Like I said in yesterday's post, I promised to learn from my previous days mistakes)
But my heart was grieved. It was burdened.
I thought I knew why but I kept pushing that reason out of my mind.
Really, Heidi, a fictional movie? That was last night, it is early afternoon the next day! Those weren’t even real people or a factual story!
But there’s no getting around it. The movie was the reason for my heaviness of heart.
It wasn’t that I was wrapped up in the fictional storyline or characters of the movie. It was what the movie represented. Truth and Reality. While that specific story may not have happened, many many others just like it have.
Curiosity leading to devastation.
Stolen Innocence.
Lies.
Objectified Women.
Selfish desires and Lust.
I don’t want to believe that stuff is true. I don’t want to believe those hurts exist. I want to wish those pains away. Why? Because I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.
When my eyes are opened like that, it makes my heart ache.
I know that part of this is the process of God showing me the hurts in the world. Showing me reality. It is something I want to run from but I can’t turn off real life like I can turn off a DVD.
Like I wrote about before, love is mixed with pain. I love people. I love that every person has inherent worth because they were created in the image of God. And I hate when that worth is unrightly and unjustly taken from them.
I pray that God will show me how to use my compassion in a useful way and I pray that I won't run if it hurts.
By the way, the movie was The Preacher’s Kid. Excellent movie, compelling story, and beautiful ending. In my opinion, though, a little too heavy for those under high school age.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Why the Blog Title?
"It is Happy to Love."
This statement comes from the book Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard.
This book, as stated on the back cover, is "a beautiful allegory dramatizing the yearning of God's children to be led to new heights of love, joy, and victory."
In the beginning of the book, the main character, Much-Afraid, is having a conversation with the Shepherd. They are talking about how love and pain are very much intertwined.
It goes like this:
Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."
"That is true," agreed the Shepherd. "To love does mean to put yourself into the power of the loved one and to become very vulnerable to pain, and you are very Much-Afraid of pain, are you not?"
She nodded miserably and then said shamefacedly, "Yes, very much afraid of it."
"But it is so happy to love," said the Shepherd quietly. "It is happy to love even if you are not loved in return. There is pain too, certainly, but Love does not think that very significant."
This excerpt is where I found my blog title.
I have a heart that loves deeply. And because of it, I have known the deep pain associated with Love. But as the Shepherd says, it is so happy to Love and it is worth the pain. I am willing to try to get past my fear of pain and to continue to pursue the Joy that comes with freely-given Love.
And if I lose sight in this journey, I pray that when I stumble my eyes will be returned to look upon my Role Model.
A Man with two openly outstretched arms nailed willing to each side of a cross.
What about you? Can you think of a time that you felt more pain because of the degree that you chose to love? Do you ever find yourself avoiding depth of love in order to avoid pain?
This statement comes from the book Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard.
This book, as stated on the back cover, is "a beautiful allegory dramatizing the yearning of God's children to be led to new heights of love, joy, and victory."
In the beginning of the book, the main character, Much-Afraid, is having a conversation with the Shepherd. They are talking about how love and pain are very much intertwined.
It goes like this:
Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."
"That is true," agreed the Shepherd. "To love does mean to put yourself into the power of the loved one and to become very vulnerable to pain, and you are very Much-Afraid of pain, are you not?"
She nodded miserably and then said shamefacedly, "Yes, very much afraid of it."
"But it is so happy to love," said the Shepherd quietly. "It is happy to love even if you are not loved in return. There is pain too, certainly, but Love does not think that very significant."
This excerpt is where I found my blog title.
I have a heart that loves deeply. And because of it, I have known the deep pain associated with Love. But as the Shepherd says, it is so happy to Love and it is worth the pain. I am willing to try to get past my fear of pain and to continue to pursue the Joy that comes with freely-given Love.
And if I lose sight in this journey, I pray that when I stumble my eyes will be returned to look upon my Role Model.
A Man with two openly outstretched arms nailed willing to each side of a cross.
What about you? Can you think of a time that you felt more pain because of the degree that you chose to love? Do you ever find yourself avoiding depth of love in order to avoid pain?
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