You might have chosen otherwise.

"The travellers now turned their faces to the journey; the sun was before them, and their eyes were dazzled, for all were filled with tears. Gimli wept openly. 

'I have looked the last upon that which was fairest,' he said to Legolas his companion. 'Henceforward I will call nothing fair, unless it be her gift.' He put his hand to his breast. 

'Tell me, Legolas, why did I come on this Quest? Little did I know where the chief peril lay! Truly Elrond spoke, saying that we could not foresee what we might meet upon our road. Torment in the dark was the danger that I feared, and it did not hold me back. But I would not have come, had I known the danger of light and joy. Now I have taken my worst wound in this parting, even if I were to go this night straight to the Dark Lord. Alas for Gimli son of Gloin!' 

'Nay!' said Legolas. 'Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream. But I count you blessed, Gimli son of Gloin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlorien shall remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor grow stale.'"

Though Gimli calls "all such comfort cold", Legolas' words resonate with a stark ring of truth. It is such a beautiful thing to see someone keep themselves tender enough to suffer for love of any kind. We so often lose the battle against the hardening of our hearts. Let us all be more like Gimli, son of Gloin.

I spoke like a child.

Love never ends. I feel like we forget this.

When you're with someone that you used to love, it's so easy to be the person that you used to be with him/her. You don't trust love now, but with that person, you remember what love was like, because in some way, even if the relationship has changed into a friendship or enmity, love is still there. I think it always will be, unless you make a real motion to break the connection that you forged with that person within yourself. Not only is that unimaginably difficult, but it's also extremely painful. Maybe it's even impossible. Why would I want to purposefully ignore or forever file away special moments with people I've loved? How could I just wrap up that love and give it to someone else? And, at the same time, how can I fully love the person I'm with  if a part of my heart is somewhere else?

I don't think we were built to break love up like this. I wonder if we're kidding ourselves when we think we can and try to do it, because truly, love never ends.

If I'm adding to the noise, turn off this blog.

The world is so full of noise.

Everyone has their opinions about everything. Everyone must tell their stories. Everyone must share, fight, kick, scream, battle, have, take, give, feel, and live. It's like a loud, crazy zoo sometimes. I hate this zoo.

I feel like lives of so many people are mere constructions of their lives around personal preferences, and to break patterns built from those preferences is counted as great and unacceptable trespass. This hyper-individualism has filled the world with a buzz of lifestyles, opinions, and just plain ignorance that violently shakes my sanity. It's not a good thing to preach nonsense on a street corner just because one is convicted that something is true. It's just adding to the noise.

We speak highly about strong opinions, tolerant attitudes, spirited people, reasonable positions, "being yourself" - in what way are those things related to what is true? Why are we afraid to say that we think someone or some position is wrong? How do someone's opinions relate to what is actually true? Why do people seek to merely "vent" to each other, rather than seek reality and true answers to their problems? Why are we so afraid of truth, and why have we trained ourselves in such a way that makes truth hurt us rather than build us up? Why do we privilege our personal interpretations of the world rather than actively seek an articulation of truth? Why does what is true not matter enough to us to be okay with being wrong sometimes?

Sometimes, I so desire silence, that it overcomes what is good in me. I don't want to have to spend life always detangling all the idea-cords that are knotted together in poorly thought-out philosophies. I don't want to have to fight not only philosophies, but egos, too. I want silence, reason, humility, patience, understanding. I want people to be my friends and partners in life, not other things that I have to fight or defend myself against.

In reality, I don't think it's exactly silence that I crave. I'm looking for a kind of togetherness with others that is built of love, which is enduring, trusting, honest, hard-working, hopeful, patient, and willing to work. The silence I'm seeking is a silence of words, an absence of those delicious words that lack any too specific of a meaning, or words that sway you  into a position that has forgotten its relationship to truth. I want an end to those amorphous ideas that are vomited up in cute phrases and more displays of alignments to truth and love through action and attitude alone.

I wish desperately for a focus on love, truth, and quiet humility. But perhaps my feelings on this are just more noise that I also hate - I wish simply to act well and express God's grace on others. My impatience with others exposes my two conflicting positions: 1) I just want to love everyone, but can become overwhelmed with the goal, and 2) I want everyone to want to love everyone, too. I have to learn to let go of the second position, and more fully embrace the first. This is a hard task indeed, to try to love without doing it for the exchange of love returned to me, or even because it will help people along their way. I must work harder to love for Love's sake, simply because it is good to love, simply because I love love.

I have so much to learn about how to love, and what it means to be good. God is good and and does good - I want to learn his statutes!

Oh, man is a giddy thing.

Truth is too often horribly, disgustingly expensive, and I pay for it with things that don't belong to me. Over the years, I have bought knowledge at priceless costs - the cost of your sanity, your understanding of Truth, your understanding of God, your understanding of love.

To those of you who've stood by me patiently as I learned - I'm sorry.

To those of you who left me because I was a fool - I'm sorry.

To those of you whom I left because I was proud, ignorant, or childish - I'm sorry.

To those of you for whom I didn't endure your sins because they reflected mine - I'm sorry.

To those of you with whom I was unfaithful - I'm sorry.

To those of you who loved me and I was cruel in return - I'm sorry.

To those of you who told me the truth, but to whom I lied - I'm sorry.

To those of you who waited for me, and I came too late or not at all - I'm sorry.
To those of you with whom I started beautiful things but didn't finish - I'm sorry.

To those of you who trusted me, but I failed you - I'm sorry.

To those of you who've suffered so that I could learn - I'm sorry.

I am a fool. Will you ever recover due to my foolishness, or is your blood on my hands?

We are like a mass of animals, crawling atop one another, kicking and clawing and scrambling upward, to reach Truth and Goodness, cutting, crushing, bruising, maiming each other to understand this life, what it means, and why there is something rather than nothing. I didn't mean to hurt you - I didn't know. I didn't know that to grow meant to kill. I am so sorry.

The cost of my foolishness - and simply having to learn through experience - costs me my livelihood. It costs me the softness of my heart; the tenderness of my care; my ability to commit to others; my ability to love as deeply, fearlessly, and fiercely; my ability to empathize with the troubles of others, even when their troubles are like mine. I become less like the warm, excited me that I aspired to in my youth, and become more like the adults that I thought were cold and passionless. I struggle against a deep, haunting weariness. The cost of keeping my foolishness is my very soul - but this is the inescapable way of life.

And yet, by some miracle, the only cost of giving up that person who is cold and passionless is the very cold, passionless person that I dislike. The cost of following Christ is myself - which is, in reality, nothing. I have nothing to lose but all the things that I despise. I should very much like to "die to myself" - and yet, I don't do what I want. I do exactly the thing I hate.

This is why there is hope in the Lord. One Man suffered for us too. He rescues my livelihood as an accident, a mere byproduct, of the great, deeper victory - Death itself is defeated. That is the Good News.

What it means for me, in my tiny world, is that I can surrender the death in me in order to receive life. All I have to do is do it.