Yourstru.ly Presents: tUnE-yArDs “You Yes You”
God is always seeking you. Every sunset. Every clear blue sky. Each ocean wave. The starry hosts of night. He blankets each new day with the invitation, ‘I am here.’
I just finished reading The Four Loves.
These are some parts of the book that stood out to me:
Pleasures of appreciation are very different. They make us feel that something has not merely gratified our senses in fact but claimed our appreciation by right. The connoisseur does not merely enjoy his claret as he might enjoy warming his fee when they were cold. He feels that here is a wine that deserves his full attention; that justifies all the tradition and skill that have gone to its making and all the years of training that have made his own palate fit to judge it. There is even a glimmering of unselfishness in his attitude. He wants the wine to be preserved and kept in good condition, not entirely for his own sake. Even if he were on his death-bed and was never going to drink wine again, he would be horrified at the though of this vintage being spilled or spoiled or even drunk by clods (like myself) who can’t tell a good claret from a bad.
Nature never taught me that there exists a God of glory and of infinite majesty. I had to learn that in other ways. But nature gave the word glory a meaning for me. I still do not know where else I could have found one. I do not see how the “fear” of God could have ever meant to me anything but the lowest prudential efforts to be safe, if I had never seen certain ominous ravines and unapproachable crags. And if nature had never awakened certain longings in me, huge areas of what I can now mean by the “love” of God would never, so far as I can see, have existed.
To the Ancients, Friendship seemed the happiest and most fully human of all the loves; the crown of life and the school of virtue.
Secondly, there is the attitude of the majority towards all circles of close Friends. Every name they give such a circle is more or less derogatory. It is at best a “set”; lucky if not a coterie, a “gang,” a “little senate,” or a “mutual admiration society.” Those who in their own lives know only Affection, Companionship and Eros, suspect Friends to be “stuck-up prigs who think themselves too good for us.” Of course this is the voice of Envy.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements’ lock it up safe in the casket of coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.
We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armor. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it.
The best love of either sort is not blind. Oliver Elton, speaking of Carlyle and Mill, said that they differed about justice, and that such a difference was naturally fatal “to any friendship worthy of the name.”
Statements about God are extrapolations from the knowledge of other things which the divine illumination enables us to know.
It is easy to acknowledge, but almost impossible to realize for long, that we are mirrors whose brightness, if we are bright, is wholly derived from the sun that shines upon us.
For this tangled absurdity of Need, even a Need-love, which never fully acknowledges its own neediness, Grace substitutes a full, childlike and delighted acceptance of our Need, a joy in total dependance. We become “jolly beggars.” The good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his Need, He is not entirely sorry for the fresh Need they have produced. And he is not sorry at all for the innocent Need that is inherent in his creaturely condition.
You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.
Christians who have put God to the test by vulnerably surrendering to his will, examining their motives regularly to see where they are protecting themselves rather than ministering, are tasting the goodness of God.
There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees.
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It’s all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self-portrait. Everything is a diary.
There was a riptide at one of these beaches. Because of it I stayed at the shoreline. Not wanting to visit the ocean in vain I kneeled down at the point in the sand just after where the waves break and wash up onto the shore. When a new fan of water would start to quickly run up the beach I would bow my whole body and let the water wash over me. I did this again and again for about a half hour. It’s interesting how nature points us to God. When we kneel in prayer we kneel before someone who is so much greater than the ocean. And he is gentle just like the water at the shore. Always ready to wash us again if we’ll only but kneel. It is a physical shadow of a spiritual reality of which there are so many. Later, I sat under a waterfall and tried to catch water in my hands but I couldn’t contain it all.
Moods - Love Is Real
The classiest tastiest guitar playing I’ve heard in a while.
Must listen, must listen.