Time and time again I am drawn again to the book The Sacred Romance by John Eldredge and Brent Curtis. The very first time I read the book was at a point when God whispered to me, “you should read the book now, you are ready,” and God was right.
Apparently I’m always ready to read the book. It speaks volumes to my story, whether today, tomorrow, or in a few months. It probably always will.
So what is it about today? I think the psalmist, in Psalm 109, speaks for me when he prays:
Deal well with me for your name’s sake;
Out of the goodness of your love, deliver me.For I am poor and needy,
and my heart is wounded within me.Help me, O Lord my God;
save me in accordance with your love.
Again, the message of the Arrows has said something to me. They have spoken and they have left wounds in my heart. If Curtis and Eldredge are right that only two things pierce our hearts, beauty and affliction, then my heart has certainly been pierced by affliction, wounds that have scarred.
Somehow, I know Jesus is there, ready to heal, ready to take me away into the Sacred Romance. I have experienced the story, and I have felt the love so warmly flowing from the Lord himself. Yet at times, those times when we can despair even for a day, God seems distant, unready and sometimes unwilling to heal our scars just yet. “A little more pain,” it feels like is being said, “and you will understand just a little more what I have for you.” And at this point we cry out and say, “God, no more, what is it that you have for me?” And God replies, “More grace, because that is what I want to give.”
Grace? Undeserved favor? Whatever for? What possibly could the Creator of my heart have in mind? The best answer I can muster is that the wounds were never meant to go away, but rather were meant to not affect who we are. Like a scar that will always remind us of the time we got stitches for goofing around as a child and bumping our chin, the wounds created by the message of the arrows seems too deep to “go away,” but rather point to a greater grace and champion the arrival of something even greater: beauty.
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