Worthwhile Love

Earlier this week I finished reading The Baronet's Song (originally printed as Sir Gibbie) by George MacDonald.  I read it once as a kid...or so I thought.  However, as I read I literally didn't remember a single line of the story, which makes me question whether I actually read it or not (my memory tends to be sharp, which sometimes gets me in a bit of trouble).  Stranger still, I read another book by MacDonald (which is part of the same volume) called The Shepherd's Castle in COLLEGE--don't remember that either!  I started it again a few days ago and it's promising so far.  Anyway, the story of Sir Gibbie was a great read!  Most definitely worth my time.  I decided my kids will read this book some day...but hopefully when they're like 12...not over a quarter of a century. ;-)  George MacDonald was a great writer, well-known not just in Scotland, who wove lessons of moral character and God's love into his stories in a vibrant and non-overbearing way.

The following quote is from one of the final chapters in the book, and describes the loving nature (and new found love of another heart) of the main character, Sir Gibbie, once a pauper but now a young man of great wealth.  I thought it a beautiful description (mainly that in bold); brought tears to my eyes.  George MacDonald put to words some thoughts I have had that I was barely conscious of. 

"Gibbie's was love simple, unselfish, undemanding--not merely asking for no return but asking for no recognition, requiring not even that its existence should be known.  He was a rare one, who did not make the common desire, namely to be loved, for love itself.

Some would count worthless the love of a man who loved everybody.  There would be no distinction in being loved by such a man!--and distinction, as a guarantee of their own great worth is what such seek.  There are women who desire to be the sole object of a man's affection, and are all their lives devoured by unlawful jealousies.  A love that had never gone forth upon human being but themselves would be to them the treasure to sell all that they might buy.  And the man who brought such a love might in truth be all-absorbed therein himself.  The poorest of creatures may well be absorbed in the poorest of loves.  The man who loves most will love best.  The man who thoroughly loves God and his neighbor is the only man who will love a woman ideally--who can love her with the love God thought of between them when He made man male and female.

Because Gibbie's love was toward everything human, he was able to love Ginevra as Donal was not yet grown able to love her.  His love to Ginevra stood like a growing thicket of aromatic shrubs, until her confession set the fire of heaven to it.  He had never imagined, never hoped, never desired she should love him like that.  She had refused his friend, the strong, the noble, the beautiful, Donal the poet; and it never could but from her own lips have found way to his belief that she had turned her regard upon wee Sir Gibbie, a nobody, who to himself was a mere burning heart running about in tattered garments.  Immeasurably the greater therefore was his delight.  The sum of happiness in the city, if gathered that night into one wave, could not have reached halfway to the crest of the mighty billow tossing itself heavenward as it rushed along the ocean of Gibbie's spirit."  
The Baronet's Song, p. 170-171



My Valentine's Day confession?

I love George MacDonald.

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P.S.  I quite randomly happened upon this video (I promise I wasn't searching for anything related to this) and these guys gave me a good laugh.  Watch it....you won't regret it!  [actually, you might, but...hey......Happy Valentine's Day!]

Masquerade

Thursday night I went to a little party/meet & greet for someone running for a political office at a VERY posh home in Dallas.  I enjoy meeting new people and dressing nice now and then, but I honestly felt out of place.  I knew I didn't belong.  I find it difficult to be in a group where you don't know the agendas or intentions of those around you.  It didn't seem like they were being real or themselves.  It was strange; everyone seem to have exactly the same attitude.  I haven't quite pinpointed what that attitude (or spirit) was, but it was akin to fashionable indifference, a kind of strained politeness; a masquerade.  (This scene was in stark contrast to the various loving and accepting environments to which I have become accustomed in recent years.)  Do you ever go somewhere and once aware of your surroundings, you start to observe the crowd, unconsciously seeking, not just a friendly face, but a familiar presence--someone you are drawn to?  For me, it doesn't matter if it's a 12 year-old kid with a camera or an elderly person with a cane; I usually end up connecting on some level about something with someone.  Well, I stood there pondering this, and realized that I wasn't particularly drawn to anyone--except, maybe, the adorable curly-headed youngsters running about. 

I was struck by something else, as well.  Based on the strong values and conservative nature of the honored candidate, I figured it was reasonable to assume that most of the individuals present were Christians.  But, honestly, if I had simply walked into the house off the street, not knowing anyone or the nature of the meeting, I wouldn't have had a clue if they loved God or had any relationship with Him.  I'm not saying that I would rather not associate with non-Christians or that I would have felt out of place because of it.  Rather, I had to ask myself a question.  Shouldn't the love of Christ shine through us?  Even if we don't say a word, shouldn't there be something, in our demeanor, our speech, our behavior, the way we greet each other, the atmosphere of our dwelling places, that is a clue to where we stand with Him?  [Matthew 5:16; Galatians 5:22-23?] Hmm.  I know I still have a long way to go in this, but I hope that someday, strangers can walk into my house and know, not only that they are welcomed, but want to be there because the Spirit of God is there. 

Towards the end of the meeting I met a nice lady near the catered refreshments.  She described herself as Baptist and Pentecostal.  When I asked where she went to church, she looked uncomfortable.  She said she currently wasn't attending anywhere, as she was still trying to convince her husband to come with her.  He grew up Methodist, but more in name than anything, and didn't understand why she'd want to be "in church multiple days a week."  I could see that she felt a little hopeless about it, but that she definitely loved her husband and wanted to please him as well.  My heart truly hurt for her.  How painful it would be, to be married to someone for years and not be in agreement with them on a spiritual level...

This particular evening definitely gave me some good food for thought.  By the way, it really isn't kosher when someone at least twice your age is obviously flirting with you.  I found myself wondering which is worse: close physical proximity, or being within eyeshot?

Now is the time....to Blog

Well, I created this here blog last year sometime...or maybe it was longer ago....not sure.  Anyway, I've been wanting to start a blog for a few years, and I'm always saying things like, "That would be a great blog post!" or, "If I had a blog, I'd...."  But, those thoughts failed to become actions.....till now. :-)  I kept pondering a good title, since I didn't like this one or the other one I created.  What's the use of two blank blogs?!  But now I have decided this [see the title at the top?] is in fact a good title for my blog.  [btw, I just realized that the word "blog" is kind of annoying; I don't think I like it. Reminds me of words like "pog" or "bog" or "blob"...maybe I should just call it a "web log," as was originally intended....then I could be even more wordy than I already am! ...hmm.]   Alas, I am rambling.  Yet, you are the one choosing to sit and read these rambles....soo...

One reason I was apprehensive about blogging was that I figured that someone was bound to be offended by my views or values, and I didn't want to have stress over such trifles.  Yet, I realize that I can't live in fear of what other people may or may not think of me and my musings.  Still, I pray that this blog will be a good place to express that which keeps me awake at night, and that it might encourage or inspire someone once in a while.

And to all you wonderful English majors or kindly grammar police, I apologize for my excessive use of ellipsis and numerous sentence structure failures.  Sometimes I get carried away..... :P

The title of this blog, "Heart's Song," is inspired by Shania Twain.  OK, not her specifically...but rather by something a psychologist/counselor said to her on a program about her life which aired on Oprah Winfrey's network almost a year ago (if you know me, you may be surprised that I watched every episode in the program....fascinating).  He said that many people die with their song still inside them.  Recently, I happened upon a quote from which that idea likely originated, "Many people die with their music still in them. Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live. Before they know it, time runs out." According to a few sources, Oliver Wendell Holmes said this, but I also found a few places where something similar is attributed to Benjamin Disraeli.  Regardless of who said it, it's true!

I don't want to leave this world with my song still inside me.  I think we all have thoughts that need to be voiced.  Perhaps God meant for you to share that poem, song or truth that He placed in your heart with someone who is near or far from you...and for that person, it could make a huge difference in deciding what path to take at the moment that it comes to them.  I often come across little words of encouragement from friends or strangers throughout the day that are exactly what I need to hear.  That's God speaking, I truly believe.  I hope this blog is a step in the right direction. :-)