It hit hard, like an emotional tsunami. When I accidentally
stumbled across Whitney Houston singing “I will always love you,” some core
spot in me flattened - but in an inspiring, submissive-to-the-sacred way.
It wasn’t about the lyrics, or even Whitney’s incredible
voice. Rather, the song encouraged me to ponder the beauty, fragility, and
brevity of life, and the profound nature of love.
I was too choked up to sing the familiar words with her, but felt them course through me like fire:
I (me, this piece of
humanity)
will (going forward)
always (without end)
love (actively and
sacrificially share mercy, compassion, affection, kindness, generosity and blessing)
you (another human)
The experience was intense for a variety of reasons. I’m growing
older and more vulnerable, live in tandem with a spouse’s compounding heart
issues, and am being blessed with major breakthroughs in my walk of faith. Tomorrow I’ll
attend a funeral for the elderly mother of a good friend, which
also punctuates the transience of life and its priorities.
Although I don’t consistently love well - deeply,
unconditionally, futuristically - I aspire to this kind of love because the
center-of-all-of-me, the deepest-part-of-me, the foundation-of-me, longs to
ring true to my purpose on this earth: unity with my Creator and His will for
me. I long to live a meaningful life,
and know whatever consumes my heart - hopefully transforming, divine love - charts the course
for everything else.
"The bee is more honored than other animals, not because she labors, but because she labors for others." - St. John Chrysostom, 344-407 AD
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