Life is evasive.
Life seems to slip in and out, to spill into new lanscapes at different places and times and is constantly fluctating in the relationships it decides to share in. This, of course, is from the perspective of my life. The apprent constantcy of me is constantly exposed by evasivness of the life I have, the lives I share in, the places I live and the time it happens to be. Hell, what does one hold onto.
Love is evasive.
Love is such a broadly defined word it is almost useless to speak about with out clarification. However, the word is far from useless. In the English language “love” evokes one of the most powerful activities in the universe. The love I have in mind is that romantic love which seems to be the crisis of young adult life. It is interesting that in the English language can be used adjectivley and hold a positive radience and then as a noun to nuance a negative posture. This place is romantic. He is a hopeless romantic.
This contrast illustrates the difficulty of discussing this type of love. Romantic love is normally viewed as the expressivness ones love. Typically one is talking about erotic love (eros) and the fact that it is expressed implies that it is towards a person or individual, usually of the opposite sex.
If intimacy vs isolation characterize much of young adult life one can begin to understand how romantic love can carry this dual aspect: vibrant, exciting, life giving and painful, hopeless, dreadful.
Isolation. This is hell.
I am evasive.
Perhaps this is part of the postmodern existential crisis. As we continue to find meaning in life and navigate the complexities of our broken realty we find a life without a center, an aptitude to “play” various social identies and a strong repulsion towards the modern drive to “label everything please.” On the negative side of this rut I tend to allow myself to fall into uncatagories. I am not this or that but somehthing of both, or something of neither but somehow beyond them as if they are still part of me or myh heritage but I am somehow progressed beyond. This is where prideful claims like the “perwinkle particle between ying and yang” have attempted to point to reality beyond the stated word/symbols and thus resist the energy to be labeled. Terms like quimsical, spaszy, and both and neither tend to communicate this ambiguity. In a culture that tries to deconstuct common catagories we find that even our very gender and sexualities are confronted by the kaos. God help us, less we disentirgate into the abyss, spaghtisize into the black hole of oblivion, marching under the suicide of nihilisim.
This too is hell.
I/we/life/love cannot evade.
“You [God, Elohim, the Lord most high] wont relent until you have it all.”
Try as we may but our lives are not at total amiss. As much as the apparent constancy of our catogory of self is evaded by the deeper evasivness of life yet too is our evasivness caught and carried by the deepest reality of all, God is for us and after us. He gave his life for us! He enters the kaos and speaks “light, peace, order.” In Jesus he tells us, “I came to give you life and life abundently.”
“If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.”
(Psalm 139:8, NIV)
It is foolhardy to think we can escape the presence or love of God. His love is universal and his prescence omni. There is a harbor for the tireslessness of both our quest for intimacy and the angst of our existential identity crisis. We must rest in Him. His invitation to fellowship is offered in the unlimited mercy of his Son, Jesus Christ.
“For God so loved…he gave his only begotten son.” (John 3:16)
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart”
Psalm 91:1-4, NIV
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.”
(Isaiah 43:1, NIV)
Thus do we confess, “My heart is yours.”