Preface
Romantic Love is a deadly, deadly thing.
The arrival of this entry is a bit late. I have been tossing the idea around in my head since January. It got lost up there amidst self-provoked monologues and theological conversations. Follow me, Dear Reader, married or not, as I explore the pink, flowery, rose-covered walls of Love (I will use a capital letter to depict the truest sense). Let me be clear… I'm speaking of romantic Love… not neighborly love. And, yes, I am single… so, everything I say about Love may or may not simply be my misconception of it. Disclaimer: this entry will tell you a lot about me. If transparency was ever an issue, this will end it. With this, I may come across as a weirdo, I may come across as a "softy" or as "sensitive" or even as a "hopeless romantic." I've been labeled as all of those. But, I assure you, Reader, Love in its truest form is the hardest, strongest, and most hopeful element in human history. So, call me what you may… Frankly, I don't really care. Love is important to me and it requires the utmost respect.
**********************
I grew up in a very healthy nuclear family that was epitomized by my parents' unwavering love for each other. Love has been a strong theme throughout my life. Being able to watch my mom and dad model it has been unimaginably valuable to me. From my earliest memories of being a child pretending in the back yard or playing with G.I. Joes in the basement, I've always dreamed of fighting for The Princess. I mean, my brother and I would play Nintendo's Mario for hours… to what end? We would jump on little turtle-doves, collect coins, scream at the television screen, clench our fists with frustration and defeat endless villains (some of whom would breath fire!)… to what end? To win The Princess Toadstool. One of my favorite things to do growing up was to pretend. My brother and I (and sometimes my sister and cousins) would come up with a plot and then we'd make-believe for hours. Pretending was no fun, though, if there was no girl for whom I was fighting. The plot made no sense to me if there was no romantic interest. There always had to be someone. My favorite movies growing up were all Disney movies. Have you ever seen a Disney movie that didn't have at least some sort of romantic undertone? Of course not. That's what drives us. Men, especially, are driven by the woman. We are all driven by the capital "L".
But, "what is this thing called love?"
For the past several years I've been enthralled with the idea of Love. As I mentioned, when I was a kid and eventually a teenager, I was innately interested in Love. But, the older I get, the more passionate I have become about finding an answer to that question, "what is this thing?" I am fascinated by books about Love. I enjoy learning about what God has to say about It and what he intended It to be. Romantic stories and commentaries on relationships always perk my attention. I research it. I observe it. Daily, I am trying to become the best husband I can be. Now, as a bachelor, is my prime time to become the husband and father that I want to be. I, as you may or may not know, am NOT what one might consider an expert in this thing called Love. In fact, I don't believe that I've ever been in Love. Honestly, I don't believe that I will ever Love someone until I marry the most unspeakably wonderful woman… my future wife. Then, and only then, will Love in it's truest, purist, most intentional form become a reality. With that being said, it's okay if you, Dear Reader, want to discard everything I have to say about It. My feelings won't be hurt. I just think that I'm onto to something here.
My answer to Billie Holiday's gracefully gritty question, "What is This Thing Called Love?" can only come from observation and research. From what I can gather on the outside, Love seems to be a deadly, deadly thing. As I've observed relationships that "work" and ones that end in divorce, I've seen the one common denominator: Death.
When confronted by love, we rarely understand it in a darkly manner. I believe that those men and women who share a deep, Godly love are the only ones who truly understand the meaning of it. Love is sacrifice. Love requires the death of oneself so that he may live for the good of the beloved. My parents illustrate it perfectly. My dad will always do what my mom asks of him simply because he is not living for himself (and vice-versa). They constantly out-serve each other. That is God-ordained Love. As the incredibly gifted songwriter Jared Anderson wrote, "This is life and it's Hell if you only live for yourself."
As I was thinking about the concept of perpetual servitude and selflessness for the benefit of the other, the idea of Cupid suddenly made all the sense in the world to me. Think about it: Cupid, the little naked fictional character who flies around shooting arrows into people to make them fall in love, initiates the sacrifice. Take the symbol we often use for love: a heart with an arrow through it. If someone shot an arrow through my heart, I’d die. So, that's what Cupid's doing? He's going around killing people? In a strange sort of way, yes. Love necessitates death. The husband must forgo his life and everything with it for the glory of his Love for his wife (as she does the same). The husband finds pleasure only when his wife is pleased. Her pleasure becomes his… and his becomes hers.
This death gives life. It's how the world goes 'round.
I don't often write poems, but when I thought of this concept, I felt compelled to give it another shot. It's fascinating to me to think of the idea that we so often pray for Love to come our way, but when he does, we either get scared and push Him away or we try to figure out how He works. All along, the real task is simply letting go and dancing with Him… allowing Love to kill us and make us new. In the poem, I personified Love as a tough old-time Sheriff of John Wayne stature who comes to give the bachelor what he wants: Love. But, it doesn't seem nice and frilly like we might've originally thought. Check it out:
When Love Shows Up
January 14, 2010
Yes, you'd better tip your hat to me.
I darken your doorstep with two things.
One is clean and neat, you see,
While the other beats and stings:
I have credentials that glisten from five points
But right below it a six-shooter waits.
People come to me and beg for my presence
And when I show up, they either ask me to leave
Or fight me with their attempts to conceive.
Yes, you have every reason to fear me.
I'm earth bound and heaven-made.
Can you dare put your two feet in front of me?
Blood has been spilt so you'd get paid.
Now, get off your knees and brace yourself like a man.
I did not come to your home to watch you cower.
I came here armed with my gun and I'll use it
In conjunction with my badge and it's power.
If you want me to stay and show you, I will.
I'll change your life, but you've got to die.
My point in all of this, Dear Reader, is that Love is a scary thing. We have every right in the world to fear Love because it elicits the sting of death. Solomon agreed: "… for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave" (Song of Songs 8:6). It's the reason we hear song lyrics like Coldplay's "Yellow": "For you I'd bleed myself dry", or like Cole Porter's "I Loves You Porgy": "Someday I know he's coming back… it's going to be like dying", or Bryan Adams' "Everything I Do": "I'd die for you."
Don't misunderstand me, Reader. The same people who think that I'm a "hopeless romantic" tend to think that I live in a false reality; I need to be more realistic. Wake up, Kyle. Love isn't THAT great. It's much harder than you think. If that's what you're thinking, you're missing my point completely. What I'm trying to say in this entry is that Love is, in fact, much, much more difficult and much more realistic than what we might've ever believed. Romanticism brings a deeper crimson than rose pedals. Love, as God created it to be, is richer than the pink sugar cookies that we get on Valentine's Day. Some people say, Kyle… true love isn't the way it looks in the movies. You're right. It is infinitely more sacrificial than that.
So, I guess my conclusion in all of this is that Love is a deadly, deadly thing… but here's the cool part: God is Love. Therefore, everything I learn about Love can be (and must be) applied to my relationship with God. He is the ultimate example of Love. I cannot comprehend how vast his Love is for us!
So, if you're married… my advice is to die for your spouse. If your single… my advice is to learn what it means to die now so that it's easier for you when you get married.
Love, Love, Love. It's the summation of the entire Bible (Mark 12:29-31).
