Not too long ago, a dream of hope died. A relationship unraveled and I was wrecked. Hope deferred makes the heart sick indeed. My heart was sick and broken. After some time of grieving, I got tired and sick of my sick and tired heart. Grief has contours and a bottom (and for that I am profoundly grateful), but what it doesn’t have is bite. And I was ready for a hard edge.

I wanted a posture that felt commanding, not soft and bowed. I tried crossing my arms. I even tried shifting my weight a bit onto a back leg, head tilted to the side, but looking up, as if to say, “Lord, You’re going to do what You want to anyway, so go right on ahead.”

For whatever reason, that arm-crossed stand seemed to stem my leaky eyes. And it even gave me some boldness: “Yeah, Lord, like I said, have at it. Clearly, my desires are not part of Your equation.” This worked surprisingly well. I liked the bite, the posture. It felt so much better than the soreness. It felt like strength.

Later, a friend asked how my disappointment had affected my view of God. I told her about my recent move from grief to crossing my arms and leaning away.

“It sounds kind of icy to me,” she said.

“Icy? Really? It doesn’t feel cold,” I told her. “It feels good, strong.”

“What do you think it feels like to God?”

“Umm. Oh. Hmm,” I stammered. “I don’t know.” Part of me didn’t care. I didn’t want to feel anymore and I wasn’t particularly concerned how I made someone else feel. Even God.

After more discussion, my friend suggested that should my heart thaw, I might consider praying like Mary. Like when the angel came to her and radically changed what she thought her life might look like: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38, ESV).

Soon, at every turn, I heard messages about Mary, stumbled on artwork portraying her, and read tributes to her simple faith. Like when your old boyfriend drives a white truck, all you see are white trucks everywhere. Suddenly, Mary was everywhere.

The image that touched me most was Michelangelo’s Pieta, housed in the entrance to St. Peter’s in the Vatican. I visited there a few years back and was captured by the sculpture of Mary, arms outstretched, with her Son’s crucified and broken body across her lap. The serenity of her expression, in the midst of this moment of unbearable loss, surprised me. Jesus had not yet risen from the dead, and yet she emanated acceptance. Caught between Friday and Sunday, Mary was at rest.

I learned that the Pieta is a “pyramidal” sculpture, topped by Mary’s graceful visage and moving out broadly to the base. Michelangelo used the draping of Mary’s gown to provide the cradle and width necessary for a woman to bear the body of a grown man.

The foundation of the pyramid is noted by art scholars and shook my icy stance. The foundation of the pyramid: the rocks of Golgotha. My heart softened. My arms loosened to my sides.

“Oh, sweet Mary, you’re on a tomb,” I thought. “You rest atop the hill of redemption. You bear the weight of the moment, but your face reflects your faith in the future.”

Mary, your arms, they are stretched out. Stretched out. Wide open.

“Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

This is so lovely. It must be read. In one of his many, many letters, the writer of Of Mice and Men counsels his young son who has fallen in love.

November 10, 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,

Fa

“It is somehow bigger and stronger than oneself. True, it could be chopped down, but not without tearing the house apart. And certainly it is beautiful, unique, exotic: but also, let’s face it, it is at times and enormous inconvenience

“So there are many things that can be said about one’s life’s mate, but finally, irrevocably, the one definite thing that needs to be said is that he or she is always there. And that, while it may be common enough in the world of trees, is among us human beings a rather remarkable state of affairs.

” . . . Love coaxes and even hoodwinks us into the making of a decision so radical that if left to our own devices we would never have entertained it for a moment. For it is a far stranger thing for two people to live together  in love all their lives than not to. Like life itself, it involves a decision so staggering that it cannot really be made at all: It can only be grown into, at best consented to with ever-decreasing reluctance.”

Mike Mason, Mystery of Marriage.

Once a potential suitor ask if I were feminine or a feminist? Can one like girly things and demand that women receive equal pay for equal work? One friend of mine showed up for a date after meeting a fellow online only to discover that her date had no legs! His photos were all from the waist up–sailing, playing basketball, etc. Don’t you think it only fair to be honest about one’s situation? Trying desperately to be unaffected by this surprise, my friend stuck her foot in her mouth(!) by saying something his home makeover “must have cost an arm [and, yes!] a leg!” Both she and her date pretended she didn’t say it.

According to a recent study on online dating, lying (or concealing the truth) is not uncommon. Here’s how to spot it online: “Liars tend to use fewer first-person pronouns . . . . this is an indication of psychological distancing: ‘You’re feeling guilty or anxious or nervous.’ Liars use more negative words like ‘not’ and “never,” yet another way of putting up a buffer. Liars use fewer negative emotion words like ‘sad’ and ‘upset,’ and they write shorter online personal essays. (It’s easier not to get caught if you say less.)” Noted.

Who knew that Maurice Sendak of Where-the-Wild-Things-Are fame once illustrated the tender children’s story of a well-loved rabbit?

More on “realness” by Ronald Rolheiser:

Here’s the author, Martin Kemp : “Some types of images are specific — like Lisa and Che — while some are generic, such as the heart shape. The generic ones tend to seep gradually into general consciousness. The heart shape appeared on playing cards and became the religious symbol of the sacred heart, before becoming the ubiquitous symbol of love. It takes a designer of genius, like Milton Glaser, to refresh its power in the service of a specific cause. We all know I(heart)NY. But New York largely surrendered the ‘Big Apple’ to Steve Jobs.”

And more from an article I read:

“The more famous the image, the more likely it is that our common knowledge is inaccurate.

The fact that Leonardo’s portrait in the Louvre represents Lisa Gheradini, the apparently blameless wife of a Florentine silk merchant, Francesco del Giocondo, is not enough to match the mega-fame of the image. We need a hidden ‘secret’ or ‘code’ to explain its hold on us.

During the writing of the book, I was told a number of times that Father Christmas (Santa Claus) is dressed in red and white because of Haddon Sundblom’s brilliant Coke adverts each Christmas. Not true!

Sometimes the legends assume the status of a certain kind of ‘truth’. The story that the Stars and Stripes was designed by the humble seamstress Betsy Ross, who sat in the next church pew to George Washington, embodies folksy homeliness in such a way that it has becomes an essential ‘fact’ of America’s founding myth.”

It’s been such a long time since I’ve written here (despite the gentle and persistent encouragement from my Uncle Richard!). It’s funny that in this craziest of seasons (read here !), that I would feel new things bubbling up that I want to document. But, I do. Perhaps it’s the new vista from a new home, new city, new life that gives me new eyes. I’ve learned that when a thought makes her voice known, it’s best to listen right away. She may not comes this way again. That’s what I’ll be doing here: listening and telling you what I hear. Come back when you can!

Dear Judy:

As I look at this photo taken 20 years ago this month, I can’t help but think how young and eager you look! Perhaps I should entitle this letter after Dr. Seuss’ book, Oh, the Places You’ll Go!, because of how adventuresome your next two decades will be—the 18 countries you’ll visit and the amazing variety of people you’ll meet. And yet, as thrilling as the outward adventure will be, it is small in comparison to the upcoming adventure in your relationship with Christ: Oh, how He loves you!

Some ideas to consider as you embark on this journey:

REST: Campus Crusade is an active and aggressive mission, and therefore energetic and get-it-done people are drawn to it. Thank God for that. But remember who He has made you to be—a woman whose design contours the more “passive” side of following Jesus, the discipline of solitude, the receiving of Him as our Sabbath rest, listening in stillness.

Consider the words of Eugene Peterson as you embrace both activity and passivity:  “We neither manipulate God (active voice) or are we manipulated by God (passive voice). We are involved in the action and the participation in its results, but do not control or define it (middle voice).” This is a glorious tension: We are not God, nor are we invisible and powerless. Living in middle voice requires both humility and boldness, two qualities we see in perfect measure in the Son of man, the Son of God–Jesus Christ Himself. He is our model. And we are to pattern our lives after His rhythms. You will need to remember Him when the natural tension rises.

CREATE: No one will make the life you want for you. Join the great Creator in designing a life that is beautiful to you. Resist the temptation to follow others’ dreams. Take the time to hear Him speak of the dream He has given you. It’s easier to copy others, but in time, it will become uncomfortable, like an ill-fitting coat that doesn’t belong to you. Lean into the discipline of reflection–the art of listening–to whose you are and what you need to flourish. Create community among families, children and friends. You will need this to fight the isolation that comes with long years of singleness and lonely leadership.

Create a rich reservoir of literary friends, writers and thinkers who have plumbed the depths of despair and found solid ground. People whose words provide context to your journey and joy in the spiritual high and lowlands. They will become critical companions whose thoughts will come alongside you in times of need and of abundance. Create beauty in your surroundings, as simple as fresh flowers or cinnamon candles or soft sheets. Your soul will delight in the “richest of fare,” for beauty helps you love well and soothes a broken world. You will see and experience much of the world’s brokenness. Create beauty.

WAIT: Oh, how this discipline will save you from making lots of mistakes! And how it will    try your soul when all you want to do is move—to the next thing, to the next relationship, to the next home, assignment or escape! God is in no hurry, for we have all of eternity stretched out before us to become like Him. He is never early (alas!), but remember He is never late either. Consider His commitment to you while you wait: “ . . . the moment we get tired in the waiting, [His] Spirit is right alongside, helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, . . . and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be sure every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good (Romans 8:26-28, The MESSAGE).            It will be helpful, again, to consider how Jesus lived the rhythm of waiting and moving forward, according to author Sue Monk Kidd: “One day when I was reading in the gospels, it occurred to me that when important times of transition came for Jesus, he entered enclosures of waiting—the wilderness, a garden, the tomb. Jesus’ life was a balanced rhythm of waiting on God and expressing the fruits of that waiting.”

LOVE GRACE: Every morning you will wake up wanting to prove that you are good and that you are right. Many of your greatest battles will be forged fighting the fact that you are neither good nor right. Surrender now and your relationships with God, others and yourself will become much easier. There is One who is both good and right (all the time), and He covers you. Cease striving and rest in His goodness, His “rightness” and His amazing grace. It’s impossible for love to come in (or go out!) when you seek to retreat from people or alternately suffocate them. Relating as if you are always good and right will keep you safe, protected and invulnerable. And that’s no way to live or to love. Only God’s grace will give you the courage to live without condemning yourself or others. Judy, love grace and believe it’s free and good news indeed! Remember the words of Dr. Tim Keller: “The gospel is the dynamic for all heart-change, life-change, and social-change. Change won’t happen through ‘trying harder’ but only through encountering with the radical grace of God.”

Here’s to another 20 years!

With affection in Christ, your older self,

Judy

By Third Day (I “borrowed” it for my Christmas Card):

What kind of King would leave His throne

In Heaven to make this earth His home?

While men seek fame and great renown
In lowliness our King comes down

Jesus, Jesus, precious One
How we thank You that You’ve come
Jesus, Jesus, precious One
A manger throne for God’s own Son

You left the sound of angels’ praise
To come for men with unkind ways
And by this Baby’s helplessness
The power of nations is laid to rest

What kind of King would come so small
From glory to a humble stall?
That dirty manger is my heart, too
I’ll make it a royal throne for You

My heart is a throne
My heart is a throne for God’s own Son

But, if I’m honest, all of the expectation that the season will be magical and dusted with gold makes me feel like I’m some how missing something. I’m both filled up and left empty. Is it because I don’t have children through whose eyes I can see the enchantment? Is it because snow doesn’t fall in Florida? Is it because I’m not reading the nativity narrative more?

Author C.S. Lewis suggests it’s because as beautiful and miraculous as this life can be, we’re created for even more: “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world,” he wrote in Mere Christianity.

The holidays—like the wonderful thrills of first kisses, babies asleep on your shoulder and full moons—awaken an ache in us, a “beautiful ache,” says my friend Leigh McLeroy. Beautiful for its ability to stretch our souls and make room for more of God.

“The trick is learning to allow the ache to take me where it wants to go,” Leigh says, “to tutor and tantalize my mostly numb senses with its laser-sharp aim. The challenge is to not kill it off before it fully arrives or dismiss it before it is ready to go.”