Sunday, December 2, 2012

what I'd be without you

Whenever I'm told I exist in a fairy-tale world, I say: "I wish I could live in "the real world", then. Because it seems a much softer, hazier world, and much easier to painlessly drift through than my fairytale." 
Glass slippers start to pinch after a while, it seems.

Frankly, I don't think we should define our lives by our sins, or allow anyone else to define our lives that way. Nor should we allow our sins to determine our history. 
We should define our lives and make our decisions by love. 
Not by sin. 
Not by the sorry stream of tatty decisions and experiences we dump on a priest and at the foot of the Cross in the confessional. 
By love.

In the words of one of my favorite authors, Lemony Snicket (someone whose name sounds like "lemon" and "snicker" could only possibly be someone with a wickedly acidic sense of humor):
“One of the remarkable things about love is that, despite very irritating people writing poems and songs about how pleasant it is, it really is quite pleasant.”

What people neglect to mention about Love is that there's a lot of pain in the pleasant.
And what they forget to tell you about Joy is that there's so much sorrow in the happiness.
And what no one ever tells you about Beauty is that it can only come with a sacrifice.
And the thing about Truth is that all of it is good, but that it stings like hydrogen peroxide.

I don't know if they don't tell you this because they don't know, because they say the word love, but don't really know what a dreadful, heavy grace they mean by that word.

Or maybe they think that if you know what price the love or beauty will cost you, you'll be disheartened. That if the cost of gaining Truth is letting all our preconceptions be relentlessly burned away, then we would live our lives in the comfort of falsities and shadows.

Or maybe they don't tell you that because the word Love by its very definition means something that takes delight in bearing the pain. It finds the pain sweet; and it finds the grief pleasant.
It's a mystery I will never fully know, but can't help thirsting to understand anyway.

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