"Falling" in Love

I wondered today whether the idea of "falling in love" had any tangible validity for me or if it was just another romantic whimsy designed to excite emotions and inspire wedding planning. My answer came in the difference of how I imagined the concept.

First I thought of "falling in love" as actually more like flying. I was so "in love" that I seemed to float off the ground. I guess you could say it was like falling because I was in the air and uncontrolled, but the scene in my head could more properly be labeled "carried away" in love. Nevertheless I was swept off my feet and I felt amazing.

But a problem arose. What if it doesn't last? My magic carpet would fly away and I'd go tumbling back the earth right where I was before. The dream would be over. I mean, is it even possible to hover over reality forever? Is this picture destined to fail?

I turned to my second image. In this one I was on the edge of a cliff and I literally fell. I flew through the air, uncontrolled and scared, with a mighty rush of adrenaline. I survived the landing, as I assume I would in love, and found myself at the bottom, looking up and then around at my new land. When I thought of going back to the top, back to the ways things were before I fell, it didn't seem possible. I probably could have made it back with the proper route and enough time, but I'm not sure I really wanted to. This picture had a way of permanently changing me. Instead of building me and my object up bigger than we really were, I fell down to the depths, clinging to my object.

When I think about people I love, I think there are some I have "fallen" for. There was a point with some friends and family when I crossed over, when I jumped with them. Where from that moment on I unconsciously became dedicated to a deep love for them. I was able to embrace their "faults" instead of judging. It came natural to show them I cared instead of a chore. Even when I saw them wrong me, in the next second I forgot and reflected a smile off their shining, white robe.

However, with all these people I have fallen in love with I needed lots of time and their humble vulnerability. To "fall" with them I had to both be willing to go off the cliff and they had to be willing to jump. I am reminded of how I have fallen with my parents.

I remember a long car ride through the night with my mother. As we talked, she shared her frustrations and sadness of not having a primary relationship. I'm sure I gave her some practical advice on needing to go out more or something, but I didn't understand how she had invited me to the bottom of her cliff and forever changed our relationship.

I remember my first World Horseshoe Tournament. I was in the championship class playing the best I ever had. I tried to keep my composure on the courts in front of the crowd, but my dad went crazy in the stands, cheering for my every shot. I smiled as he celebrated for me when I couldn't. And then in my last year when I lost the championship game and tried to keep my composure on the court, I watched as he took on my pain and "fell" with me. I was never alone.

I have never felt alone. No matter how far down I've fallen I know my God, in Jesus, has been falling with me. He "fell in love" with me before I was even born and has never hesitated to take my pain on himself. I'll admit I'm not always ready to give up my hurt, but he is always ready to meet me at the bottom, to change me and resurrect my life.

Recently I can even say that I have "fallen" for Him too. It's taken much time and for me to understand the depth of his vulnerability on the cross, but I have jumped and am not interested in going back. I am so thankful He has invited me into the mystery of true love and how the two of us are going to become one.

Liberated to Love

You ask me what I'm looking for in a girl, but I've given up list-making. Every time I meet a girl the list changes. I think, how could I have missed this and why did I care so much about that.

So I will tell you what I find attractive. I close my eyes and set the scene. I'm at the bar and from across the room I see her. Her light eyes reflect off her fair skin. I stare at her shy smile. She walks over and catches me off guard with an observation that I don't think anyone notices, but I secretly want them to. "I like your shirt," she says, "causal without the collar, but classy with the buttons."

"Thank you. I like your smile. My name is Keith."

I'm swooning now, but I won't fall in love for months, for beauty that is trapped is but slavery and I am no master.

Over time I find out that she has been liberated to love, not just me but her God and her people too.

She studies me. She anticipates my fears and my desires. She willingly rewrites her love story to include me; rather she casts me as the main character. This makes me nervous so she is gentle and patient. She is understanding when I don't understand her.

She is liberated from law. Not just free, where she might find herself confused and wandering, but overjoyed with passion and direction. She prays without ceasing. She listens when God speaks by her heartbeat. As I watch her eyes and ears grow, her hands and feet grow too. When she stumbles and falls she always gets back up, but never the same as before.

She doesn't know a stranger, for to find one she would have had to lose herself first. She is diligent to know how others perceive her, not for identity but course correction. "I feel like myself when I am around you," her friends write in her birthday card, "Thank you for letting me be me."

I sit with her at dusk on a porch and enjoy my favorite time of day. I can finally take a breath and reflect on the gift I awoke with.