For Love has ready come for us…
So for today, I give you this, an excerpt from Carolyn Weber’s memoir, Surprised By Oxford.
I wanted the real thing. The Real Thing.
“Lord, help me overcome my unbelief.”
A simple prayer.
So brazen after the complete disregard for the presence and power of the Almighty in life and in death. Not even a prayer from belief, but a prayer to overcome disbelief. The lowliest of requests.
But at least, from me, the real thing.
And then, just like that, I was on the other side-the other end of the chasm. Through me, over me, beyond me. Safe. Saved.
On that Eve of St. Valentine’s Day, I stepped out onto the sea and walked. I did not go under. Strangely, instead, even in my disbelief, through my ardent desire to believe, I was lifted up. The grace of it all poured out, like expensive perfume on weary feet, like soothing oil on a heavy head.
…St. Mary’s chimed midnight. The end of one day and the start of another. I stayed up all night in prayer, in awe, and in reverence. Everything felt new and familiar all at once. I turned back to the beginning of the Bible. As always, and now especially, a very good place to start. It, too, felt new and familiar all at once.
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning-the first day. (Genesis 1:1-5)
To be one person one moment: lost. Then to be another person the next moment: found. It is the difference, as the saying really does go, between night and day. Outwardly I seemed the same, but inwardly everything had changed. I went to the window and watched the birth of the dawn. Everything, every thing appeared in this better light, this brighter light. The ordinary revealed its extraordinariness, like a lover stripped of mundane garments, suddenly naked and beautiful and true.
Come away, my lover, And be like a gazelle Or like a young stag On the spiced-laden mountains (Song of Songs 8:14)
This is the ultimate Valentine.
Dominus Illuminatio Mea. “The Lord is my Light.”
Surprised by Oxford, the birthday of my life came.
Yes, my Love came to me.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of Lent, the preparing of our hearts for Easter. Some of you may choose to walk with Christ in a wilderness sort of way by giving up something that you hold dear, like coffee or chocolate. Others of you may choose to observe Lent by telling the story of Creation to Christ to Cross each day. Our family will take a 40 day trek into no-TV land and we will also tell the story of Christ each day.
And I will enter this time of Lent by writing on Love for the next 40 days.
I will also be on a social media fast, so that my heart only flutters for Christ and not at every picture of your kiddos.
I will write and publish updates on FB and Twitter each day, but I may not respond to any kind words written in those spaces. My heart needs a break and so does my soul.
I thank you for always walking with me, for always reading the stories of my mess and His glory, and for always praying for me.
My prayer for you is simply this: May you experience the WONDER of your salvation this year. May you see the One who LOVES you and may you glorify Him by sharing your story with others.
To fill your cup: