I recently posted on my Facebook account that Love is that moment when all else is telling a person they should walk and yet they remain.
Later, after a couple of comments from people, I responded and thought that this moment is God. One of the definitions I would give to God, as I attempt to define that which is undefinable, is: God always loves you, even when all logic and facts state that you are unlovable and not worthy of love, God says you are worthy of love and in fact, are loved… fully, completely, wholly (Holy?).
I had an experience in college, during a ropes course. I was doing the high platform, climbing up a pole to a small, wobbly platform about 50′ up and then leaping to a trapeze bar about five feet out. I got to the top of the platform and for the next 7-10 minutes, stood there shaking precariously while friends below cheered me on. Everything about me—physically and mentally—told me I wasn’t going to make it. Every thought, every muscle… everything within me and about me told me to give up. But something else, very quietly amongst the chaos which I was in those moments/minutes, held on… and many minutes after arriving to the top, I leaped out to the bar.
I think I missed the bar; I’m not sure. What I came away with, though, is an everlasting experience of something that seemed absolutely, unequivocally aiming to only one result—and that result was failure. YET, that was not the result I had. I really did not think I could stay up on the platform and leap out. But I did.
So I have this very real experience that even though all “logic”, all thought and all physical experience might be saying one thing—reality might be something completely different.
So what does this have to do with my subject/post title for today? And what does it have to do with being grateful?
To say that Liz and I have had a rocky relationship of late would be scratching the surface of a story that I am sure has at least two sides to it, if not more. (Liz is my wife.) And there have been quite a few times that my thoughts screamed out at me to cash in my chips, admit it is a losing situation and walk away. Yet, to date, I also found something that quietly reassures that all is not what it appears to be. And we’ve hung in with each other so far.
And I am finding that I have a partner that is truly down for me. “Through sickness and health. For better or worse.” Something I think is flowering that is far deeper then I imagined possible; true love. Real love. Love that does not abandon when the way is fraught and trials of fire prevail. And these trials burn—and they hurt. And they forge something stronger then steel.
Today, I am grateful for my partner, Liz.
And to kind of wrap it up and append my earlier bit about God. I believe that God, amongst other things, is that which loves continually, forever and ever, regardless of any “sin” which one thinks they did. God sees the “us” that is without sin or mistake. God sees us purely, perfectly—always has. Always will.
Something to aspire to.