Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Love. Always.

One of the retreats my high school required us to go on.  The theme of this particular weekend was something like "removing the masks"- we were supposed to be examining our past and our hopes for our futures, and find who we are, our true identity in the middle of it all.  In the now, behind the disguises we wear for the world, and sometimes for ourselves.  The ones that we've been wearing for too long because we forget what we look like underneath them. 

Naturally, one of the crafts was creating a papier mache mask of each other's faces then decorating our own with images symbolizing ourselves in the future.  Most of my classmates' images had something to do with a sport, a college, or a profession.  Mine wasn't.  I am not an athlete.  I was not looking forward to college.  I still have no idea what sort of job I want to work at when I grow up.  And I hate planning my future like that.  I can handle only the present.  If I think of more, my performance becomes beyond poor, and my sanity slips.

The only constant I've seen in my past and the only pattern I believe I can count on seeing in my future is suffering.  Suffering coupled with joy if I allow it.  My mask was different.  One half was entirely black, except for a circlet of dead and painful thorns, and a single red tear of blood shed by the eye.  I decorated this side as I thought of the letdowns, the pain, the evil I will participate in and witness over the course of my life.  This is the heavy, darker, desperate side of life, of my future.  I let the other half of my face remain white, except a simple crown of read roses and a bit of soft crimson in the cheeks.  This half is meant to reveal the beauty, the purity, the love, the goodness I may choose despite the darkness' suffocating weight. This is the light, lovely, hopeful potential of my life, of me.

The opposites rely on each other to maintain the delicate balance of sanity.  Much like how Love implies Justice as well as Mercy.

As real as suffering is, its couterpart must be moreso.  I believe it is simple, and I believe it is called Love.  Always.  Every opportunity with everyone you meet - you will be given each opportunity only once.  Love them as well as you know how, if only for a moment.  Chances are, they will not take much notice.  But if you persist someone will.   When they do, they will remember you and that moment.  They will remember that there is more to life than the mundane and the letdown it often seems to be.  You are alive, and that is no accident, no coincidence.  You are meant to live for more than you've settled for.

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle."
~ Plato

Let Your Love be Strong
By Switchfoot

In this world of news
I've found nothing new.
I've found nothing pure.

Maybe I'm just idealistic to assume that Truth
Could be fact and form,
That love could be a verb.
Maybe I'm just a little misinformed.

As the dead moon rises
and the freeways sigh,
Let the trains watch over
the tides and the mist
Spinning circles in our skies tonight.

Let the trucks roll in from Los Angeles;
Maybe our stars are unanimously tired.

Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All of my world hanging on your love.

Let the wars begin.
Let my strength wear thin.
Let my fingers crack.
Let my world fall apart.
Train the monkeys on my back to fight.

Let it start tonight
When my world explodes,
when my stars touch the ground,
Falling down like broken satellites.

Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All that I am hanging on,
All of my world resting on
Your Love.


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