Love and Beauty
Saturday, December 6, 2008
I was in my bed that Thursday morning with the covers tangled around my restless legs, as always, and drool crusting on my lips when my eyes slid open. I closed them again, still steeped in my dreams—enjoying the company of my sisters back home, and here as well, mingling and laughing together. The Lord was persistent though, and my eyes opened again, this time with enough wakefulness to see the real world around me—and the gorgeous light awaiting my eyes.
I usually sleep with the blinds of the window right by my head all the way down, but for some reason I had fallen asleep with them up just a smidge the night before. This little smidge got me a perfect view outside while I was laying down—and boy, did God have a beautiful sight to show me.
The sky was gray up above, but at the level of the tree and housetops of Normal Hill there was a haze of clouds, and a bright golden-orange color streaking through them. It was as if they were painted with a brush and oil paints just for me. My eyes teared up and my heart swelled, a lump in my throat. "How beautiful, God…" I breathed, my quiet morning breath croaking from my throat. "Gorgeous…" After a while, I glanced at the clock and went back to sleep.
Yesterday morning God woke me up to see the sunrise over Normal Hill. Only He knows the way beauty affects me, when I take the time to stop and notice it. I really hadn't in a couple months…stopped to have my breath taken away, that is. To most of you, a sunrise is pretty but nothing more. Oh, but God knows the way my heart beats faster and my breath catches in my throat. He knows how my eyes burn, and my soul immediately sings his praises. One glance at beauty like that, and I fall back in love with Him all over again. I can't help it.
How to explain…the way you who are active in sports feel doing the sport you love, such my snowboarding friends, is the way beauty makes me feel. If you've snowboarded with me, you've been annoyed by how I freeze at random moments and talk about the beauty that struck me. The way you feel, those of you who have a crush on someone and feel that rush of love the touch of their hand sends through you, is how I feel when I'm struck by something beautiful. My entire being swells with love and excitement. I don't just find beauty in nature, though…sometimes, it's something a person says or does that strikes me. Sometimes it's a smell, or a glance, or a situation. Countless types of beauty have had this strong effect on me.
As I went through my day when I officially woke up, I was preoccupied with the memory of that sunrise, and the whispers of love He had been speaking to me. Oddly, the night before I'd gone to sleep reading 1 Corinthians 13—the love chapter. By the time that my last class for the day got out at 4:15, though, I'd already begun to forget it and get wrapped up again in the long to-do list in my head. I walked out of the Fine Arts Building thinking about Modernism in British Literature, and what constitutes a healthy friendship. Lofty philosophical thoughts such as these are the normal, natural state of my thought life most of the time.
The moment I stepped outside the building and glanced at the dark sky (it's night time by around 4:30pm here, sadly) I froze again. "Wow…" I breathed, my eyes wide, that familiar physical response quickening in my body. "How beautiful!" The sky above was the dark navy blue of night, the moon shining its brightness, and on the western horizon the sunset spread across the sky. It was similar to the sunrise that morning, which I had already let fade from my mind, but somehow even more beautiful. The colors were richer, more vibrant, with reddish tones and a deeper orange.
I had been in the middle of a conversation with fellow Christian English major, Will, when the beauty froze me. He heard my exclamation and turned with a confused look on his face. "What?" He asked. I motioned toward the sky and murmured, "the sky is so beautiful!" He looked at it and agreed, though seemed a little bewildered by my response. We were going in separate directions, so I said goodbye and headed to my car.
I usually sleep with the blinds of the window right by my head all the way down, but for some reason I had fallen asleep with them up just a smidge the night before. This little smidge got me a perfect view outside while I was laying down—and boy, did God have a beautiful sight to show me.
The sky was gray up above, but at the level of the tree and housetops of Normal Hill there was a haze of clouds, and a bright golden-orange color streaking through them. It was as if they were painted with a brush and oil paints just for me. My eyes teared up and my heart swelled, a lump in my throat. "How beautiful, God…" I breathed, my quiet morning breath croaking from my throat. "Gorgeous…" After a while, I glanced at the clock and went back to sleep.
Yesterday morning God woke me up to see the sunrise over Normal Hill. Only He knows the way beauty affects me, when I take the time to stop and notice it. I really hadn't in a couple months…stopped to have my breath taken away, that is. To most of you, a sunrise is pretty but nothing more. Oh, but God knows the way my heart beats faster and my breath catches in my throat. He knows how my eyes burn, and my soul immediately sings his praises. One glance at beauty like that, and I fall back in love with Him all over again. I can't help it.
How to explain…the way you who are active in sports feel doing the sport you love, such my snowboarding friends, is the way beauty makes me feel. If you've snowboarded with me, you've been annoyed by how I freeze at random moments and talk about the beauty that struck me. The way you feel, those of you who have a crush on someone and feel that rush of love the touch of their hand sends through you, is how I feel when I'm struck by something beautiful. My entire being swells with love and excitement. I don't just find beauty in nature, though…sometimes, it's something a person says or does that strikes me. Sometimes it's a smell, or a glance, or a situation. Countless types of beauty have had this strong effect on me.
As I went through my day when I officially woke up, I was preoccupied with the memory of that sunrise, and the whispers of love He had been speaking to me. Oddly, the night before I'd gone to sleep reading 1 Corinthians 13—the love chapter. By the time that my last class for the day got out at 4:15, though, I'd already begun to forget it and get wrapped up again in the long to-do list in my head. I walked out of the Fine Arts Building thinking about Modernism in British Literature, and what constitutes a healthy friendship. Lofty philosophical thoughts such as these are the normal, natural state of my thought life most of the time.
The moment I stepped outside the building and glanced at the dark sky (it's night time by around 4:30pm here, sadly) I froze again. "Wow…" I breathed, my eyes wide, that familiar physical response quickening in my body. "How beautiful!" The sky above was the dark navy blue of night, the moon shining its brightness, and on the western horizon the sunset spread across the sky. It was similar to the sunrise that morning, which I had already let fade from my mind, but somehow even more beautiful. The colors were richer, more vibrant, with reddish tones and a deeper orange.
I had been in the middle of a conversation with fellow Christian English major, Will, when the beauty froze me. He heard my exclamation and turned with a confused look on his face. "What?" He asked. I motioned toward the sky and murmured, "the sky is so beautiful!" He looked at it and agreed, though seemed a little bewildered by my response. We were going in separate directions, so I said goodbye and headed to my car.
Sunsets are so temporary, that I practically walked backwards the two blocks to my car, mesmerized and praising God. I got in my car and drove toward Prospect Drive, which has the best view of the western skyline in the whole town, with my digital camera in hand. I filmed the sunset for a good three to four minutes, and took some great vivid pictures (such as this one). The whole time a stream of praise flowed from my mouth. My being swirled with love and admiration for God. Oh how He knows me…
When it was done I got in my car and drove to Starbucks to write in my journal about the incident. It was so very beautiful. My glowing wonder at God's beauty faded by the end of the first page to musing about how gray and monotonous my life felt these days. "School, work, church, school, work, church, work, work, school, work, school, school, church".
There's this sickening apathy that feels like it's trying to steal my heart and pollute my life with mediocrity. I feel like most days it succeeds. But then I'm so serious all the time, trying to make so much of life and relationships, that phrases like "drama queen" and "immature" come to my mind and make me recoil back into the emotionless blur life's gray. When I talk from the passion in my heart, most people say "wow, that's deep" or nod and "mm hm", and I feel so out of place. So I turn gray and let my life blur together…that seems to be what's expected most days.
Am I a drama queen? Sometimes I wonder that high schoolers don't have something right in their intense focus on others, and on finding meaning in the events of life. Then again, I hear that most high schoolers don't walk around every day preoccupied with what their destiny is. Maybe I and my friends were weird. What is this adult maturity forced upon us as an alternative anyway? A life of duty where everything blends together and no one really feels anything anymore.
I was contemplating this when the Lord struck me with a thought: Love gives life meaning and excitement. It's all about love.
My visit to Boise this last week was all about love. I walked in the church Saturday night for YP and got partway through a sentence to Pastor Kelly when Debriana shouted my name from across the room and bolted toward me. As she threw herself into me and hugged tightly, both of us laughing and rejoicing, Jessie's voice rang out, and then Sarah's, and Alaina's. Debrianna let go just as Jessie threw herself into me and hugged, then Sarah, and Alaina, and Rebecca…it was a cascade of crushing, joyful bodies and voices and love. Their hugs weren't those polite half-second hugs either—they're the firm, forceful ones that clutch you close and make you feel treasured.
Sunday the next morning I was standing in worship at the 11am service, and the oddest feeling came over me. It was as if God picked up Capital Christian Center, my church home, and wrapped it around me like a giant warm blanket. The CCC blanket engulfed me in warmth and love, and God's arms held it there around me, cradling me in it…after a moment of this, He whispered to me "I'm proud of you for being strong and standing up these past few months, but you can relax now. It's okay to relax now…" It was such a vivid feeling, this CCC Blanket…everything inside of me sighed and relaxed.
Pastor Ken said something when he was speaking at YP that bothered me at first, and then made me smile. He was talking about healthy families and said "there is no exchange for a family". A pang of pain went through my heart at first, because my family--in the sense that he was talking about--was taken away from me years ago, and there was no way I could ever get it back. How depressing. Then I remembered a couple years ago, when I came home for one of my first return visits to Boise and God told me that Capital was my home, and the heart-family I needed so desperately. I still talk to my family back in Virginia of course, but it's different having them with you on a daily basis.
Anyway, my suit of armor off, engulfed in love, the Lord began to knead my heart in his hands. It had been a few months since it really felt a deep love…like God had to knead it in his hands to keep me alive. When I left the next Sunday to come back to L-town, I walked out of church and rubbed my arms. I could still feel the warmth and pressure of their hugs lingering there, as if implanting that "CCC Blanket" in my chest as I went away. I knew I was loved immensely, I belonged there so easily, and that I would be missed for these few short weeks.
There was this other feeling, however, that accompanied that love…I felt strangely breakable, like porcelain or alabaster. Uncomfortable with any feeling of weakness, I found myself grasping past the "blanket" for God's arms that held it there. I grasped for his love and his presence. His strength is made perfect in my weakness…but I have a deep problem with weakness.
I've been "off" ever since. Any mention of the love of God has made me tear up. I've been mediating on love in friendships, and the love of God, my love for God, and on 1 Corinthians 13. They talked about love at church when I was home…YP was doing a Sexual Character series, and Pastor Krist had been talking about MY summer message, and expanded on the topic in a way I hadn't yet. He talked about Suffering Love. Even my conversations with people that week had a lot to do with love.
Yesterday God drove his point home with the sunset and the sunrise: Love is the key. I know it sounds so simple, but it's the most profound, and difficult to grasp concept of all. Deep, soul moving love is what makes life exciting. It's what feels different between Lewiston and Boise for me—I love people here, of course, but there's a depth that feels missing in the grayness of routine. It's no one's fault of course—that's just the way it is. That love is what makes ministry so exciting. Love is what makes friendship so dear. It's all about love.
I could talk about this forever, but I feel like I'm starting to ramble now. This might not even make as much sense as I hope. My thoughts are kinda disjointed…still, read 1 Corinthians 13 and 1 John. Meditate of what they say. The love they speak of will change your life…
After all, God is love. That's what it's all about.
God bless,
Jennie
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