REALIZED LOVE

Mankind is quick to proclaim love then inflate it in an attempt to cause the recipient of said love to believe that this love is different from all others. Both males and females are guilty of doing this. Our infatuation with the thought of another person becoming vulnerable to our emotion is a great boost to our ego. We consider the immediate present, cast the moment across time and create a blanket of here and now into eternity. “My big love, dissimilar from anything you have ever experienced, will last forever. You can count on it when you can count on nothing else.” This statement, we hope, will elicit a trust to rival that of mother and newborn child. In our minds, it is true; albeit tied to this precise and particular moment. And, yes, there are times when we can stretch and lengthen that minute into times – equaling to hours, days and even years.

We move from this span of time to the next thriving and surviving off of our grandiose infatuation. Can it really be called love until it is tested? Is it possible to love someone without questioning motives and intentions in an attempt to know them in a way that no one else does? Is love birthed or does it evolve? Is it one thing, and then go through a metamorphosis to become real love? Metamorphosis is a profound change from one stage to the next.  It is a complete change of form, structure, or substance; a transformation. Love is created through the process of morphing from stage to stage, moment to moment, and time to time.

Love is patient and patience is developed through trials and experiences. It grows and magnifies as the opportunity to exercise it presents itself. There are situations that require less patience than another. Thus, this characteristic of love is expanded and stretched over time. In true love there is no breaking point. The elasticity of love never remains brittle; it grows ever stronger as it moves from fire to fire. When one fire creates a frailty another fire is needed to realign the DNA makeup of it. Whenever this phenomenon is experienced, some “love” experience fractures. It is in this moment that conditions are realized. To give the benefit of the doubt, most proclamations of unconditional love are perceived as true – and it is, within the confines of that particular moment. It isn’t until patience is worn thin, without the effort to reinforce it, that a realization of limitations is exposed.

Love does not hunt for its own way; it is not self-seeking. In our society, this characteristic of love is not fostered. We are conditioned to embrace the “What about me?” or “What have you done for me, lately?” state of mind. Western civilization has thrived off of looking to please oneself and sometimes to the hurt of those we say we love. Again, we can stave off (or hide) this stipulation for a period of time. However, if we feel like we are giving more than we are getting then we feel an innate compulsion to find ways to “do me.” Our love for material things often cause us to ignore the things that we need the most to survive as loving beings. A new dawning appears as we consider what we are lacking, without grasping hold of the wealth of humanity-laden needs that are being met. I am not talking about those situations where the basic financial necessities are being withheld. There is a safety in knowing that bills can be paid, food put on the table, and a roof over ones head. People need to feel safe. I am referring to the fluff – the pomp and circumstance that is visible to the outside world. This is where most of us draw the line, so to speak. When we begin to believe that if others cannot witness this love, in a manner that is visible to the naked eye, then ‘love’ grows cold and dies (like a neglected fire in a fireplace).

God has given us a blueprint that allows us to measure our claims to love. 1 Corinthians 13 is a real example of unconditional love; love that never fails or remains thin and brittle. It is stretched, but never breaks. It is strengthened in the same furnace that creates weakness. Real love becomes malleable through tests and trials so it can be shaped in a manner that prepares it for what is to come. Once it has been re-shaped, heat is needed to strengthen it for its new purpose.

It may be of great benefit to understand that true love is created through transformation. In the beginning, we are intrigued with the promise that is held within fascination. In order for it to blossom and morph into God’s definition of love, we have to embrace the process. Just as a caterpillar move through the hidden pupa stage in order to emerge as a butterfly, thus is love. As metal is forged into its finished product through the process of heating, cooling and re-heating, love grows stronger as it endures the fiery kiln of difficulty. This is when we realize any conditions that were hidden from view. It is here that we are faced with our personal commitment to our profession of love; where we surrender to the process that produces a profound change – love that does not wax cold.

FRET NOT!

          

           Fret. A powerful four letter word. We are commissioned, by God, to “Fret not because of…” To be burned or kindled with anger. How often have you said, “It just burns me up”? Maybe it wasn’t you. Perhaps it was someone you have conversed with – a family member, a friend or co-worker.

            Fret. To feel or express worry, annoyance, or discontent. This definition may bring it closer to home. You watch someone do some shady business and somehow they get ‘rewarded’ in spite of the means that were used to get to the conclusion. It’s annoying. It chafes you. It just doesn’t sit right, in your spirit. We have tried to gain solace in the scripture, “Fret not thyself because of evil doers.” Do we take it there? Do we call them ‘evil doers’?

            Some of us, I dare not say all or even most, choose to live our lives out doing things the way God ordains. We seek the Lord, listen for His voice, and follow His instructions to the letter. We do not allow ourselves any input nor do we assign a conclusion. We just trust God with the outcome of our life’s events and find peace in knowing that He directs our steps. We are keeping our eyes on the prize and not on our neighbor, those we work and/or go to school with or that family member that seems to find success at every turn. *Crickets! Crickets!*

            I want to take our focus of off the passage that comes so readily to our mind and take a look at this … Fret. To compete. Pause and carefully think about it. Let it wash over you. Mull it around. Swish it around in your mouth like a fine wine (or grape juice). Fretting – being overly concerned with the way someone else is doing things and their outcome can lead to competition. “If Bob or Fran are doing it that way, and it seems to be working for them, maybe I should do it that way, as well.” Let us not forget that we are going to ‘tag’ God in on our plan (which is really Bob’s and Fran’s plan) looking for His blessing and provision.

            The Israelites, when they were in the wilderness, began to fret about Egypt and the Egyptians. Think about it. They began to reminisce about the food they enjoyed (in slavery, all the while complaining about it). They began to think the ways of the Egyptians got things done, so they pooled their God-given booty together to create an idol. The Egyptians, evil-doers, were idol worshippers and things got done in Egypt. The Israelites took fretting all the way. And at times, so do we. Admit it. How many times have you changed the way you handle things based on what you have seen others do? I am not talking about successful God-fearing mentors, but those who seem to be getting it done. The movers and the shakers.

            Fret. A worn or eroded place; to cause corrosion; to make a way by gnawing. Eventually, as we keep our eyes on what is happening outside of our true sphere of influence (in someone else’s lane), it eats away at our faith and our confidence that God’s plan and process for our lives will not produce the outcome that we are looking for. We become worn down in our search for our path and our way that has been ordained by Him. The thoughts that others are setting goals and achieving them in a timeframe that has been set by God knows who, vexes our spirit and we become restless – just like the Israelites. We start creating our own golden calf and doing things we see others doing and appearing successful. It creates friction within our relationship with God and we turn to things – regimens, schemes, processes and plans – that have not been written into our story.

            God says He has thoughts and plans that are specific to each one of us. We just need to learn how to be yielded and still enough to hear what He has to say. He says to be still and know that He is God – we are not the gods of our own lives. He will direct our footsteps for our path. He will give us plans and insight into what we should do to prepare for our destiny.

            FRET NOT!

Love

Allow me to take you on a brief journey, please. Sit back, read the words and envision what you must to capture what you see. It is my hope that I avoid sounding cliché. However, I may very well fail. Forgive me, in advance.

Western media presents true and lasting love in fairytale form as if it is unattainable or too whimsical to hope for, in reality. We are assailed with notions that fiery and passionate love is not long lasting. Our expectations should be brief and cursory, never believing that true devotion can be realized. Whenever we hear of a couple whose commitment to one another has spanned decades, we are surprised. Some may even question it. Yet, deep down on the inside of us…in a dark and quiet chamber of our hearts, we are still hopeful. There is a scant few that hope beyond hope that LOVE will conquer all. I am one such soul.

I close my eyes because I refuse to look into a room without you in it. I hold my breath because it hurts to get a whiff of you when you are not around. I exhale only to survive. I feel like a soul without a body until my body is touching yours. Your skin is like medicine, your voice like calming waters and your touch is motivational. I am borne on the wings of your presence and I am lifted to a time and place where anything is possible. This kind of love is like a good book, easily read and enjoyed. It is an epic bestseller, sought out by many.

This love is ageless. This love is priceless. This love is sought after; many even kill for it. This love is stalwart. This love is abiding. This love begs to be expressed in every manner and on every front and in sight of all who choose to witness it. This love is unforgettable and matchless and … well, ours. It is stronger than the power of death (or so it seems). Even with all of its weight and power, this love is light and lifted. This love breaks the chains of insecurity and fear. It breaks free from the confines of societal norms and expectations in that it will not falter in the face of adversity. It gains strength from the challenges it faces and it closes ranks when storms arise.  This love is not naïve. It understands that it is exceptional and envied. It is the topic of many faithless discussions and disloyal banter. Many are quietly (and not so quietly) hoping for its demise. This love will disappoint them. 

I long for the moments when we are together. My lips can feel the soft and gentle pressure of yours long after the kiss has ended. I scribble your name on a napkin and hold it against the palm of my hand, like it is yours. I smile at the mention of your name and that feeling in the pit of my belly has not diminished over the years. It has been more than a decade and the fire is still burning. Year after year the embers rekindle and spark – the flame pops and crackles and the heat of it touches everyone who comes near it. I know this is love is rare. I also know that it doesn’t have to be.

BEHOLDEN Review

"A book that makes you examine your Christian walk. This story is told through the lives of everyday people which makes it very relatable. The author takes a look at the "little" things that we allow into our hearts and lives that eventually grow to overpower our thinking, attitudes, viewpoints, choices, etc. and eventually lead us away from our Lord Jesus. This book forced me to think about my daily choices and brings home the fact that there is a spiritual warfare going on for our minds and hearts.

This is a MUST read, especially for those who want to make their lives count. I will be re-reading this book at least once per year!

I received this book as a prize in a Facebook online book club (BRAB) giveaway." - Severine Bryan-Johnson

http://inezreilly.wix.com/iamsproperty#!online-store/c1ztk

Stop and Smell the Roses

We have been created to be sensual beings. Not so much as to be led by our senses, but to enlist them in our appreciation for all that God has given us. Our sense of hearing, taste, smell, sight and touch are avenues that are to be taken in order to bask in the splendor of the Creator and His creation. There are myriads of brilliant colors that are pleasing to the eye and many levels of sound all around us. There are countless delicacies to tantalize our pallets and bouquets of fragrances to tickle our olfactory nerves. And, there are varying degrees of textures that will not leave our sense of touch bored and disenchanted.

            God has taken into careful consideration, our “need” for things to appeal to us. We are not left without a witness and a testimony of His greatness. Evidence of His existence is all pervasive in our tangible world and those intangibles that have yet to be discovered.  We are inundated with things to be explored … we will never stop being amazed at what He has done; however, the Bible tells us that there is nothing new under the sun. All that we unearth has been and what was discovered is yet to be seen. God is aware of what we do not know. He is never surprised because He is in every living thing. The atmosphere is alive with Him. Therefore, what we experience (at any given point of our life and living) is God.

            He cannot be missed. We are made up of living matter, so what we see is God. We breathe in the air around us, infused with life forces. In Him we live and move and have our being. We cannot escape the Creator of all living things. In what we would consider the absence of sound, is still sound … it is just outside of our natural selves to experience it; therefore, God can be heard on all levels. Imagine if this is the reason that God wants us to step outside of our “natural” inclinations – so we can enjoy and experience Him in new and amazing ways. There is so much that is missed when we think that God is just what can be experienced sensually.

            It is true that if we were just to experience God on the level of what we can observe, we would never run out of reasons to give Him glory. However, it is not where He desires for us to remain. We are not to approach Him with what can be perceived. He wants to reveal to us those things that cannot be ascertained through our carnal discoveries. Therefore, He speaks to us in the deepest parts of ourselves; that place which cannot be engaged by our five senses. We use what we can sense, naturally, to spark a level of curiosity that beckons us to lift ourselves above. He wants us to come up higher and go deeper.

            So, as we continue to discover and uncover that which can be sensed and manipulated, let us not forget to marvel at His splendor. We have our five senses to help us appreciate the Creator. He has given us these things to spark wonder and awe. Every natural sight and sound is filled with Him. As we think on these things, don’t forget to stop and smell the roses. 

Someone Died Today

The hustle and bustle of everyday living is going on. In syncopation there are those who are waking from slumber, those who are lying down in rest, and those who are making the most of the daylight they have left. Neither of them are taking note of the other, yet their lives are making up the fabric of NOW. We are all loving and loathing, eating and drinking, crying and laughing, and running and walking in perfect harmony – individually cooperative. And, without our perfect knowledge of the other, we are living and dying.

Someone died, today. While we are going about the business of our day, there are those who are mourning the loss of someone great (or not so great). While we are begrudging our jobs, our hair, our clothes, our spouses, and our lives, someone is taking their last breaths. We find moments to complain about our lot and what we will never have, there is someone who doesn’t have tomorrow to make a change. We lose ourselves in what would have or could have been while that one person is out of time – it will never be.

Someone died, today. They will never hear another ‘I love you’ or ‘Good job’ or ‘I’m so glad you’re here’; nor will they have the opportunity to speak those words. They will never feel the heat of the summer’s sun or the bite of winter’s frost. Do you wonder if they are missing them, now? It makes one wonder if they wish they could wake up early or go to bed late because of work. Are those who once complained about the annoying laugh or the nagging voice or the obnoxious chewing now longing for what once was and will never be, again.

So many of us go about our lives as if we have died. We complain, as if there is no hope for change. We mope around and shed tears over temporal things that will have no meaning, in the end. We look at what is, as if there is no chance for what can be. As long as we are breathing, there is hope for something more – we have opportunities to embrace and look forward to. We can still make plans and execute them. We can still love, laugh, and cry. Our tears are unspoken prayers that can still be answered. We have time. We have opportunity. We have moments that can be enjoyed, no matter the circumstance. We can begin, again.  

Someone was born, today. A shining ray of hope and promise. Joy and exhilaration flood the hearts and minds of those who have anticipated this very moment.  A barrage of heartfelt warm wishes are doled out, freely. Laughter fills the air, as the future is whatever can be imagined. A clean slate has entered our world and our minds are reeling with the thoughts of the future. Plans are written in pencil, leaving room for the ebb and flow of life. Mistakes are welcomed training moments. Failures are expected with the knowledge that a correction can be made. Nothing can dampen the high hopes and exuberant expectations.

Someone was born (again), today. The knowledge that every moment is lived out loud and with our eyes wide open. Nothing is withheld from us, if we are willing to dream (again), hope (again), and believe (again). We can experience the gleeful wonder of a new life beginning the journey of discovery. We can take a fresh look at what had become mundane in our lives. We can appreciate the splendor of color and sound and taste and touch. We can gain comfort in the smile of a loved one. We can appreciate each nuance of ourselves, without the murky judgments of the world surrounding us.

Someone died, today, is true. And, in that same moment, a new life begins. 

A Tribute to Irving Brooks, Sr.

Not once did my father stop looking for me. You see, I was one of those children who was passed from parents to foster parents. When I was ten months old, my mother couldn’t handle the responsibility of being both a drug addict and a mother. She had to make a choice and motherhood was the expendable one. Don’t feel sad for me, it was done with the lot of us; all eight of us – four boys and four girls. I was the youngest; therefore, I was the last of the Mohicans to get the proverbial boot from the nest. I spent years fantasizing about what it would be like to belong and what my father was thinking about me missing from the brood. Isn’t it interesting that I never thought about my mother? I thought it was. I wondered and wondered about my father. I judged my mother, but never thought that he could have been to blame for my removal from the family. Well, guess what? I was right! Imagine that…after years and years of my made up notions, to come to find out that it was true. You see, I was sitting in the living of my very best friend’s home (that had become my home) and the phone rang. She was, Cherrie that is, sitting doing her daughter’s hair – twists and curls – it was beautiful. She stopped to answer the phone and handed it to me. It was my ‘godmother’ calling to give me some news. I had been googled, or searched out by someone making grandiose claims of me being her baby sister. The room grew quiet … a little too quiet, if you ask me. There I was, in the middle of what should have been one of the best moments of my life and there was no pomp and circumstance – not even from me. I think about that moment and wonder about my emotional freedom. It’s laughable, now. I wrote down the number that was being recited to me, then pressed and released the what-ya-ma-call-it (I never did know it was called). Oh yeah, the receiver button! I dialed the number and waited. Ring…ring…ring, “Hello.” I sit and listen to a stranger recant details of my life; details that I had heard from those I had come to mistrust. It was true! My sister, Pat, told me that she had been given the task, by our father, to do whatever it took to find me. He had been having her search for years. And, as you would guess, I met this man. The man I had fantasized about in my youth. He reached out and took my hands into his and said, “Yep, those are the thumbs.” ‘Those are the thumbs?’ Is that all he had to say? So, I said, “What is that supposed to mean?” After all the years of his looking and looking, he still had some reservations and the thumbs sealed the deal for him. I was the daughter that he had never stopped looking for.