I don't know who wrote this, because I saw it on facebook and the person who posted it said they got it from another friend...etc.... But I thought it was full of truth and a challenge to courage, and so am sharing it here for your benefit.
Love
Do we ever stop to think what we are doing when we decide to
love? Love (take it in any sense you like, you can have your pick of the Greek)
is an act of supreme hazard - some might call it a kind of violence. There are,
of course, differences in degree - the husband loves his wife with stronger
ardor than one friend loves another - but the activity of the heart in both
instances is of a piece. In some way, some glorious, terrible way beyond our
puny mortal comprehension, one heart is bound to another. These very bonds
which bring so much joy introduce the possibility of pain, as the very capacity
to feel brings with it the potential for both pleasure and agony. The bonds
themselves are tainted by the filth of our hearts, as sin corrodes the psyche,
clouding both judgment and emotion. Yet the very fact that we are able to love
at all is a miracle, a grace we should have no reason to expect from the
Creator we rebelled against.
AND YET HE LOVED US FIRST.
Love itself is a kind of rebellion, an inclination of the
soul which openly defies the power of darkness and its clamoring hatred. The
prince of darkness may still corrupt our love into a horror, a mere carnal
desire or superficial attachment. Yet when we love truly, with simple, honest
devotion, we spite the enemy, moving - even if only by a fraction - toward the
nature which we were intended to have, toward a vision of the Kingdom to come,
toward the image of He who made it possible.
Love should not be an insipid, mewling little thing which we
dress in the palest, least offensive colors and stoop to pet when it suits us.
This is not love, but an abomination masquerading as virtue in a world where
virtue has no meaning.
Love is not harmless. Love is dangerous. Yet it is
worthwhile, only insofar as it flows from the One who burns white-hot at the
center of reality, Love Himself, the One who sacrificed His Son, who hung on
the cross in agony, having done no wrong, that we might be truly loved.
Brothers and sisters, let's not proclaim our love - for each
other and for the world - with platitudinous whispers and mutterings. Let's
declare our intent to love with one voice, roaring to the heavens. Love is our
battle cry, and our commander, and our prize. Let us take love as seriously as
He did.
[any leads as to the author would be appreciated and credit duly posted here]
