Love is not Beautiful

I bet this is a pleasant surprise for the other Piny Pek bloggers (especially, particularly Archer).

I didn't even know that I could still contribute to this blog.

And I feel so out of the loop and even misplaced.

But here's something that I wrote March 29 (I think); it's my most recent writing:

Love is not beautiful; love is selfish. The Sonnets of the Portuguese are not beautiful, because they are about love. And when in love, you forsake all others, your family and your friends—those who are indeed beautiful. I once browsed through a book called 1000 Beautiful Things—none of it was beautiful, because love was written on its every page.

A kiss is not beautiful; it is disgusting—two tongues reeling about like snakes mating. And it is the very symbol of love, of a disgusting love.

Sex is above all the least beautiful, especially when it is done by two people in love. From heaven, they must look like featherless birds flapping. Even sex derived from lust is more beautiful than two people in love, twisting and entangling their bodies in and out. For some time they are one, and then they are separate; then they are one again. Sex without love is beautiful—because lusty, foul humans wallow in pleasure. They don’t feel the longing desire that people in love feel as they are separate and must function with this hidden secret—that for some time they were whole.

They don’t feel the ache of a human-shaped hole ripped from their bodies—just to fit perfectly together by nightfall and torn apart by day break. Twenty-four hours is measured differently by people who are in love; it is divided into pieces—the times with which they love and the times with which they don’t even exist. As if to say, I love you or I am not at all.

And in this moment of inexistence, it has taken one good-bye kiss, one morning-after, one day of silence before the longing sets in. Sex without love is for actors, trying to taste heaven without repercussion. For a single moment, they think they’re in love, the curtains close, they bow their heads to ravenous applause, and they slither away to soak in their diluted pleasures.

Because sex with love is very different, indeed. Lovers are not actors, merely seeking self-centered pleasures. Love by nature isn’t selfish, it is very beautiful.

- Evon R. Christian

identity in you?

they say i've got identity in you Jeshua, but they also say you don't love gay folks or black folks or Iraqi folks, that's why i don't think i want THAT identity, i know your justice is different from that of those that claim your name, but i can't handle it, i'm lost, unable to find just you, just you, simply you, where the hell are ya, i'm reaching out in every direction, to my friends, to my causes, joined NAACP SPUSA and one too many churches looking for me, not you just me, i got it wrong, and now i can't get it right.

how can you be so close and so far, how can i climb the highest mountain and somehow miss you, how can i seek justice the way i think you like it and never meet you in the streets, how can i be raised in the church only to founder at the age of 20, how can the church raise me and push me out of the nest, i don't really want church, i want community, i guess i was raised by one that has now morphed into counterfeit, counterfeit cash burns a different color, smoke traces give it away, put it to the test and it fails, see me hurting, no you don't, you're not looking, you're the counterfeit.

i can't find my identity anymore, i don't know where to start, i'm lost in a foreign state, a fresh foreign state of mind, i don't want a lot of readers i want the right ones, i want those i can read with weep with write with smoke cigars and drink with, all that in fellowship with the Rabbi, where did the Rabbi go that no one can show me what he looks like anymore?

a sip of peach tea i find refreshing, i watched a confusing movie today, wish i were home, wish i were at bcc even though i know i've outgrown it their too, not all change is bad but all change hurts sure as hell, i hate this limbo this extraordinary maze, where are you taking me you devilish white rabbit, you're such a pain to me right now, i really am in pain, can't you tell, stop running me in circles and stop for a second won't you, i need peace, i need restoration, i need community, i need identity.

but identity's gone, jumped the gun as i jumped off the wagon, joined a new caravan called college again, they say it'll make me smarter, what if cigars i've never tried are all that i want, what do you say to that you pristine white-washed vanities of vacancy of vision, invest in someone won't you, invest in a man in need of a heart transplant and stop shoving me those bandaids damnit!

God, sweet sweet God, i want what you give, what you have given, what you always give me, i guess i lost it somewhere along the way, did i deny it or have it robbed from me, only a few remotely understand me and that number diminishes, i know i'm not alone but i see so few who are fighting for what i'm fighting for, i'll continue to pray with her, it's been a while since that act, i miss our prayers every night, her sweet soft voice saying amen and good night, i miss knowing she was with me on it, but i stopped praying with her each night and i blame me alone, i am the cause of my problems, i want to come back, but i don't even know which way to go!

i had another chance to find communion tonight, but like so many beyond the walls of the "church" i refused the chance, gave myself an excuse, i've been hurt so many times as i've sought companionship in you Rabbi, don't make me try it again in the wrong place, i'll join the ranks of the gas station guy, he with his beautiful broken eyes, he and i the same are crippled and killed by the christian church, i find more peace with him than i have in a "church building" in a year or so now.

i don't know what i did but i have become your judas.

what if i stumble, what if i fall?

as Rob Bell has pointed out in one of his sermon's i've watched, everything is spiritual. there is to be no separation between our spirits and our bodies.

if that be the case then why do i struggle to stand so often?

i have many close friends whom i look to for guidance in life, people i imagine to be more strongly in touch with the Father. i look to them when i am weak in my walk. i look to them when i don't feel weak even (which may be when i am truly weakest, at times) and i see their example to be almost unattainable.

as many have struggled with over the years, i wonder if i am no longer simply IN the world, and if i've not become, somewhere along my self-infatuated path, OF the world.

in my efforts to be relevant i've only weakened the message and power of the Gospel.

each time i think i'm starting to get back on track i see that a friend is so much MORE excited about God than i am, and that they broadcast it more publicly than i. and i crumple, for i do not wish to be like them. i do not want to be known simply for shouting on and on of how much i'm in love with Jesus. i don't want to look to people like Jesus is all that i think about, though he most often is EXACTLY what i wish i could be channeled into 100% of the time. i just don't want to come across as though i'm saying i am "holier than thou". which is perhaps what i feel like when i look at others so seemingly in love with Jesus and at peace for it.

and this is the part in the story where i realize it is incredibly likely i am frankly OF the world.

and i don't know how to regain my stance of being in, and not of...

i see now that i am avoiding exactly what i want because i hate the idea of being titled and labeled and named as "one of them". it is not fear of association, as much as it is fear of being stuck, dependent under one title, one label alone.
and yet as much as i know my only real claim to any identity comes through Christ's claim on me, as a human trying to make an impact, and avoid stereotypes, i try to outrun his grace, love, and possession of my heart that i absolutely want him alone to have.

i am a stupid mule who is ignoring the call of the only farmer who will give me rest from the cold, tired world, just because i don't want to be seen as the one who wimped out and couldn't make it on his own. even though i know it is the best possible thing in this world for me, and maybe there's not even enough people watching me to see me "wimp out."

a strange place indeed, Watson.

i have a dilemma...

...that makes me feel childish, yet i am nearly twenty.

it is possible that someone is reading this who knows very well the person to whom i am referring, when i state that i have likely royally screwed up a friendship with someone i never got the chance to get too close to, before i went and buggered it up with short-sighted remedies of simple anxiety. and now, i am afraid to lose her friendship because she seems really cool.

maybe i'll get another chance, but for the time being, pray as i might for things to return to normalcy, i have no idea how i must act to fix this for the long-term.

anyone who's known me more than a year can gather a fuller extent of info simply based on experience with me. yeah, it's probably what you're thinking. and yeah, i need help, and suggestions.

this'd be so much easier if i just knew more people here. then i'd have balanced everything out to begin with, but i didn't know hardly anyone else, so i messed up by focusing so intently on one friendship that i frankly blew a hole in whatever had been built up.

tonight i went out with some guys from church (all at least 3 or 4 years older than me, which made me feel special) to see Leatherheads, after watching some Rob Bell sermon stuff at bible study, and it was really helpful to get out again, with GUYS!!!! when the freak did THAT last happen?! it was cool.

balance is re-taking what it once held to its own, and hopefully with this balance, and with my striving to give her just the right amount of space, there will be healing, and i will rejoice in that. for now, though, i'm content to be working in the right direction, and asking God to help me get there.

pax, everyone.

confession (round 2)

last May i posted about several major character flaws of mine.

since that time i haven't really had too many opportunities to say anything further on the topic of my character flaws. but now i've come up with a reason for that to change.

i've got another character flaw to address and willingly expose to the few who don't already see this in me. tonight i had a bit of a chance to reflect on all my past relationships with girlfriends... i was driving home from a Bible study where the leader's daughter (a friend of my little sister) said something along the lines of, "so, i heard you got engaged in Africa?" apparently my sister had not only blabbed to this friend, but to a hand-full of other friends i've never even met, not to mention this friend tonight told her mother, and i've already told her father, in another related discussion.

it doesn't really bother me at all that people know this about me (as long as i'm able to explain and contextualize that statement!) fact of the matter is that i was, in fact, according to cultural norms, engaged to a girl i met on my team in Arusha, simply because i found her attractive and she caught on. it was all a whirlwind from there. we ended up fine by the end of it, sticking to our single selves, however, somewhere along the lines i'd further damaged my credibility, and apparently, she had as well. or i had done so, for her. i don't really know, or comprehend it all.

the point is, including the fact that i've been engaged already and "broken it off" (though i was oblivious of the severity of it until about a month and a half later!) i've simply had too many girlfriends too deal with myself. i'm not proud of it, and it's shown me just how weak i really am in this area.

i wear a purity ring. it's a small, ding-ed up silver ring on my left ring finger. from over 5 feet away, looks like i'm married. i look over 20, sometimes as old as 26, apparently... basically, with this ring on, i look untouchable.

that's just the way i want it to be for now--i'm still trying to go a couple years on my own, just workin things out with God, since i really haven't had such a chance since my sophomore year of high school... ergo it's time for a bleedin' break!

basically, i mess up. i ROYALLY mess up. i go back and forth between the Reign of Over-Zealous and the Reigned-in Over-Cautious! apparently, subconsciously i think that firing both kinds of weapons will balance things out and create a pleasant, neutral reaction. sometimes i get lucky (i.e. not dumb) and i ease in a statement here or there, where it could've been quite explosive instead, and totally read in the wrong (or right) way! thankfully, that hasn't happened too recently... barely.

just trying to hold myself together, and keep my sights on Aslan, and not get too tripped up trying to play the field for the time being. i've done enough of that at this point. i apologize to all whom i've hurt. please forgive me.

hopefully this next stint on earth will prove better-handled.

PAX.

what i am coming to learn, and coming to love.

please read this article.

i am relatively unacquainted with the truth of suffering, of hopelessness.

i am a poor missionary student.
no stable bank account state-side.
the poorest of the westerners in this YWAM DTS in Arusha, Tanzania.
the one who's broken two hearts in one fell swoop--mine among the two.
the one who's defied everything about my old culture.
the one who can barely afford to be using this computer.
the one who can barely afford to call home.
the brother and son missing his family.
the brother missing his brother.
the brother missing his sister.
the brother missing his dog.
the one who cries the most.
the one who has mood swings.
the one who hurts most among the team of students.
the one who has just recently encountered personal hopelessness, and barely survived it.
the one aching for ancient voices, both human and otherwise.
the one who is at peace.
the one who writes too much, reads too much, thinks too much.
...but is still held and loved by God.

just read this article.

if you think you know suffering, this'll step on your toes, laugh at your ideas, and then lovingly give you a better idea of how to live, and how to look at life.

Amen.
Peace.
Love.
Joy.
Suffering.
to You.
Amen.

the blister on my left heel and the presence of God

the blister on my left heel and the presence of God were two of the things that spurred me from this house tonight.
and two things that nearly got me arrested.
way to go america.

----

it is 12.47am on Sunday morning, the 26th of August, 2007. i leave for Tanzania in a little over 12 days.

so i have a lot of stuff to think and pray about.
so, naturally, as people do when they have a lot on their minds and hearts.
i took a walk. or, started to, rather.

barely six or seven houses down, and just as i'm rounding the corner to start my round about the block, a middle-aged couple drives by, pulls a U-ey at the intersection i'm turning at, and pulls up next to me.



(at the same time)
man: "hey. what are you doing?"
woman: "do you live in the neighborhood?"

me: "i'm walkin'."

(at the same time)
woman: "do you live in the neighborhood?"
man: "with a backpack?"

me: "yeah, just down at 4014."

man: "why are you walking?"

me: "because... i... want to."

man: "well, should we call somebody?"

me: "no, you don't need to."

(at the same time)
man: "well, someone walking around at... 12.40 at night, with a backpack and no shoes... i mean..."
woman: (under her breath) "maybe you should just go home."

me: "i'm kinda weird"

man: "yeah, i'll say."

(at the same time)
man: "you should just go home."
woman: (to her husband) "oh don't."

me: "you want me to just go home?"

man: "well, yeah, or i'm gonna call someone."

me: "okay..."


i turn around and walk back, cursing them under my breath.
just because i don't fit into the mold of standard suburbia, i'm thought of as a threat.
if anyone ever wondered what i can't stand about suburbia, this is just one example of what sucks about it. i can't take a walk, in which i'm not threatening to anyone at all, just because i look weird to them. nothing about what i'm wearing is terribly different except for the lack of shoes. apparently a back-pack on a student, in a college town, is a red flag of a terrorist, or even worse... a homeless person!

suburbia: "oh no! whatever shall we do?! i'm so frightened!"

me: "grow up."


me: "i can't wait to leave this country."

at least in Africa if someone stops me from walking at night, it'll actually be a legitimate concern.

i shoulda asked that couple why they were out driving so late.
but then again, they're normal, right, so driving around in the dark, in an un-lit vehicle, oh and that whole illegal U-turn thing, that's all perfectly acceptable at 12.40 at night. who knows what kinds of frickin explosives (or bodies) they could have had in the trunk.

since when was a single person more suspicious than a group travelling in an encased vehicle?



God get me outta here, and do us freaks a favor, please, and shatter the bubbles of 'normal' people. they're blind. make them see, please.

veritas.

i am turning to the arms of a woman whom i have always trusted in my pursuit of veritas. my deepest feelings and thoughts will be in a journal to her, so perhaps it may be a spell until my next entry here.

just pray for me. my pursuits of truth and love and faith--with works--and beauty... they have thus far failed. the Bible is barely exciting at this point. sadly. i need to read the gospels and that will undoubtedly help me. i just need to meet with Jesus again, and lay down arms (rather than take them up) alongside my Lord. in his companionship i will find my wholeness and a holiness untaintable.

pray for me, sisters and brothers.
pray for Em and I,
pray for Em,
pray for YWAM.

amen.

unpacking... and why i wish i were still in cleveland.

confusing cell phone service.
no wifi (except for something i'm filtering into my room from somewheres...)
no land-line.
no new friends.
no old friends.
no forever friends.

i know i sound really emo right now... but i don't really know exactly what i should be thinking like. it's pretty sucky right now, i can't lie.

i love sleeping on the floor, and i got to do that last night, so i totally wont complain about having no furniture yesterday and this morning.

i love exploring. i wouldnt mind the driving around, except that right now it just feels so frickin hollow.

the people i saw in my last days in cleveland are probably some of the only people i'll still be in touch with from here on out. it kinda sucks. there are a couple people i know i didnt see too recently, who i know i won't be forgetting or leaving behind.

i'm in Lafayette, Indiana now... living in a small development about ten years old or so. everything here is a development. and there was this one church building i saw this morning that seemed so far removed from the rest of the world, aside from its own little development which was attached.... and of course, impossible to navigate.

it was when i spent about 15 minutes looking at the map of the city on my sheet-less bed, surrounded by boxes i cant remember the exact contents of, looking at 4 walls that are way too girly looking, feeling a forlorn and yearning breeze blow in my one window, facing the rain-trough span of land next to our new "home", realizing i'll be gone as soon as i'm here, with nearly no friends to speak of... miles and miles away from my closest friends...... that's when it hit me.

i guess for now i keep fighting the tears as i think of my best friends, all at least a state away.

i thought i'd have a new friend here, but i can't help thinking she was only interested in a romantic relationship, and it seems she's drifted to the background already. of her accord, not mine.

and the only woman i could hug and hold for hours and hours may have to wait months and months to see me again.

i am lost. i seek the mission giver and the mission, because i dont know what else to do.

i send my love to you all, and some of you know you're loved better than others, and those who don't, i apologize.

go in peace. and seek after me if you want to. i could use the companionship.
PAX, brothers and sisters.

white dinner dishes... and the joyous unknown

Last week, i spent time with Emily and her family (her parents, her sister, and her brother-in-law-to-be).

The conversation over a wonderful dinner of salad, egg-salad, corn on the cob (freshly shucked about the time i arrived at her house) and chicken--for them-- dwelt often upon the plans for the wedding and the banquet afterwords between Emily's sister Lauren and Nathan, an awesome guy i wish i could get to know better. At one point, as i zoned in and out of the conversation, since Em and i were enjoying a side-bar of silly remarks between the two of us, i found that the discussion had turned to the dinner dishes and the set of tableware to accompany. her mother and her sister decided that it was wise to stick with plain white or off-white plates, because they could go with any kind of food very easily and wouldn't be an eye-sore.

that is very true... a hot pink saucer doesn't exactly jive with chocolate pudding without looking vaguely bloody, i would imagine.

i became introverted at that point again since i often do when i realize my input would be a waste of breath seeing as how my expertise is not in the arts of interior design.

in case any of my readers haven't caught on yet, i am one of a small pool of largely unpopular critics when it comes to hating suburban life. as joyful as i am for the couple i'd only just met that night, i can't help but thinking that in the lifestyle i see myself called to, there is little need for an understanding of which color of plate will suit which delicious dinner combo.

my lifestyle choice: living poor among the poor, loving incarnationally as Jesus did, serving the marginalized in every society.

as this thought wanders into my brain yet again, this solemn Sunday evening, i wonder at the depth of my realization.

just as Em and i have both come (again) to this understanding that for now we are very likely meant to be single and devoted first and foremost to God, i have come to realize that i could never provide for a wife. as it is now, i can barely sustain myself and with all the costs i am finding in my journey to Africa, i think i will be nearly completely broke upon my return.

i have developed a great admiration of Brother Andrew, who brought strength to so many members of the underground church--and likely still does. in reading his autobiographical book entitled "God's Smuggler" (and known to a newer generation as "The Narrow Road"), i have often wished to have been serving alongside him in the most dangerous places beyond the Iron Curtain.

he eventually married, though he worked in a lonely state for so long that he feared he would remain single his whole life.

i pray for a wife (got someone in mind). but, most importantly, i pray for God's best. and i pray for peace and strength to endure it if he grants me himself as my only Love.

i want to be either like Elijah the prophet, or Brother Andrew the Bible smuggler and preacher. i have faith that God will give me what i need for the journey. whether that is simply partners and comrades or, most fondly, a wife... is up to him.

God of grace and God of glory... i trust you and i pray for your will.

singleness.

it's like the road that looks lonely, long, straight and narrow. the one i would never choose.

except that i've walked down the other road too many times before, and never felt absolutely at peace about it. this other one is beautiful, adorned with roses, lush pines and conifers of all shapes and sizes, the fragrance is intoxicatingly sweet and unforgettable.

but God doesn't seem to want me there.

Ireland is beautiful so far as i can tell in all the films and photographs. the roaring sea breeze tearing up the rock faces along the north sea. the grass as far as the eye can see. green, rolling hills, serenity at its epoch. I've wanted to live there ever since i first knew its name.

but God doesn't seem to want me there.

instead, God is calling me to begin my journey in his mission by chasing him all the way to Africa. to the shanty-towns. to the jungles, to the vast plains. to the church, both underground and on the hilltops.

in this way, from where i humbly sit now, both simpleness in Africa and singleness on this narrow road are my callings.

it helps so greatly that Emily and i share this notion of singleness as God's calling for us both. we talked about it last night and are both so much more at peace than i think we have been in a long time! so, la Vita a Bella! (about the only Italian i know)

where i go next is a complete mystery, i wait for God's word on these next agendas. i have no other choice. i am blessed with the assurance of God's constant presence, as well as that of several very close friends.

my dad, spiderman, don cheadle, derek webb, evon christian, krissi bernd, the fraser women, punjabican, Jesus...

all my mentors (yes, spiderman currently counts as a temporary mentor :) ) are urging me to do what is right, to fight the good fight and above all-- to do it non-violently.

i am listening to them. i am completely understanding them.

i am relating to them:

"you know the tree by the fruit
just between me and you
i never do what i want
i do what i'm taught
and i've been learning a lot
about the violence i'm capable of"
-Derek Webb, "I Don't Want to Fight"

"Lately things have been going my way. But I have this bad feeling. This darkness I've discovered has a power far greater than anything I could have imagined. It's... intoxicating."
-Spiderman, "Spiderman 3" trailer

and i thought i was learning from them. but somehow i keep seeing violence as some actual frickin plausible mode of change.

"if you beat them at their own game, then you've already lost."
-Evon Christian

i have this concept of doing a lot of good in Africa in a short period of time, and a feeling that i'm gonna die young, lookin down the barrel of a gun i'll think i'd buried long before.

"even if you think there's all this glory in dying for a cause, think about what you'll do to everyone else."
-Stacey Littlefield, my father, my accountability, and my only superhero

i've been wrestling with the possibility of taking up arms in a defensive militia in Africa, with a group of comrades hell-bent of defending the innocent by becoming guilty in their stead. that's what sucks.

"every hero has a dark side." (Asher's translation: "every [human] has a dark side.")
-Spiderman 3 game advert.

i've become aware of my own violence and dangerous capabilities again.

i'm in agreement with no one, especially not God. especially not myself.

so maybe i will die early. maybe i'll be gone in 10 years like my premonition. maybe i'll never get married, maybe i'll live life on the run, but i pray i never have to f*****g take the life of one of my brothers! it is not my right. i am not a killer.

"so i'm walking away from this
before i hurt someone
'cause i'm facing enemies
on both sides of the gun"

and whether you believe he is who he said he was, you've gotta understand the gist of what he said, at least in this one case:

"...let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!"
-Jesus, John 8.7

pax, brothers and sisters.

and for Pete's sake help me out here! besides,
"it takes a village to raise a child".... no idea who said it, but it's true!

that hallway of 82 and a half...

i'm standing in a hallway right now, lined with 82 and a half open doors.

yeah that half-door's quite the confusing one.

until i am on the north american continent again in late january 2008, i will not know which one is best. hopefully 81 and a half doors will close. or maybe 82, and then that half-door will grow open or something.

being torn kinda sucks a lot.
Africa will shape me and define me. create me and build me. support me and direct me.
until then i will see only open doors. even the violent ones. i hope those ones close so the peaceful ones can be more appealling. but i can roll with whatever. i shall take all because i have made peace with all. all but that half-door.

still workin' on that one.

the mountains are trembling and time is crescendoing earth's very existence, God's very presence. it's all here. now i just must wait. the entire puzzle is waiting for that one large piece. i am waiting for that one large piece. then can i know whether or not i will someday marry a beautiful queen. until then i struggle to daily make peace with the likelihood that i will go solo on this earth.

if i do marry, she better be fighting by my side. and i better be fighting by her side.

when i recognize you next to me, surging into the jungle mist, across the hazy savannah, and the searing Sahara... then will i take a knee to your soft hand and reach for your finger. if i may.

if i am extinguished before that moment, know that i wanted to reach that point. know that i wanted to get there. but that my number was up too early. i'm at peace with that. ready to go.

"how are you not afraid to go over there?"
"because i know i'm going to die there."

..."good nuff fo me"...

pax to the beloved of heavenly Adonai

to be mis-interpreted

sadly, everything can be mis-interpreted.

you could read this as a disconnected trail of thoughts,
as a sign of my own depression,
or as a suicide note.

it is not the latter. probably not the former. maybe the middle?

I believe people do not know how to easily read me. I long to come into face-to-face contact with my lover so that she may truly know everything happening within me, simply by looking into my eyes.

if i say my hometown is Amsterdam, i am not to be questioned. many do not know my allegiances. the hundreds of times i pledged my allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, none of them i take as truth or reality anymore. simply because i feel more that this country is parasiting me, than that it is helping me acheive my dream.

i am too easily distracted here, because of the billions of dollars that are pumped into advertising and TV. I think i shall unplug it for the weekend. I will be alone here for the weekend, so who could it hurt?

i just do not like being assaulted for simple things i say. i do not like being questioned as i try to remain true to myself and the calling i hope is still mine. i have nearly lost a true sense of identity. i feel as though i have too many homes and hearths- thus none. i feel as though i have too many faces and personalities- in fact, none.

i am unaware of Asher. Things i once was, i can no longer identify with nearly as strongly, and even things i love now i feel too distant from. like there is some invisible wall between me and me. between Me and Asher. between Mind and Heart.

And worst of all, I don't know how to fix it.

Love: it's not the medicine, it's the cure.

About three months and so many days ago, Love seemed so impersonal to me, and I was ready and willing to abandon all ideas of Love that I had previously had. I became afraid of it, and yet I wanted to love and be loved so direly, so madly, that I procured myself to be a miserable-mess.

God knows the perfect remedy for a lonesome heart, and that is...true, unadulterated, unconditioned Love.

And then, God decided to turn my world up side down, as He has a tendency to do, when I had least expected it. He granted me a gift of unmagnified properties-a gift so beautifully bestowed upon my heart-that I fell in Love and engulfed the loveliness of it to such extremes, whereas I was drowning in it.

Realize, dear readers, that Love is absolute, infinite. Know that intimate, congenial Love is much more beautiful than that of the corporal. And do not fear it. Do not be afraid of being loved—of having someone who knows you wholly as the flawed person that you are and loves you regardless.

Remember, Love: it's not the medicine, it’s the cure...and we're all sick at heart.