I'll Pass On The Ear, Thanks

Today I sit here on my own... staring into the shattered reflections from a broken soul.  Life is hard.  We screw up... pretty much everything.  I look around me at relationships that seem so far gone that it's only by God's grace that the disasters aren't immensely worse than they are.

We struggle in this life.  And those of us in touch with our inner demons of artistic and creative torment (otherwise commonly referred to as "depressed" ironically) -- we struggle more.  We have to live the pain to know what passion is.  And we apparently feel the need to drag those we love through it with us.

So however many years ago it was on this day, another incredibly depressed artistic man named Van Gogh, a broken man, gave a piece of himself (literally his ear) to a woman he "loved".  I'm sure his intentions were good.  I'm thinking if someone offered me a bloody and disconnected body part, I'd be a tad grossed out, regardless of their intentions.

And yet, don't we do that to each other all the time?  All of us are broken or hurt in one way or another.  And all we can hope for in this life is the connection with another...  and we seek to offer our broken and mangled pieces of ourselves to one another.  And sometimes it works, and souls mingle... but only temporarily.

Because we're not capable of maintaining such an intimate connection with another on our own.  We need the help of someone higher than we are.  The only one who can truly understand our broken souls, can heal our broken souls, and can allow us to truly connect with anyone... is God.  (S)He longs to hold us close, to kiss away the pain, to show us true and unbroken love.

My personal resolution for the coming year (to borrow a concept) is to learn to feel and truly understand this true love, and to in turn share it with the world around me, in a pure and unblemished soul connection.  In the meantime, however, I'm asking for outside help in this area, because I know it's gonna take me time to get there, and I know I cannot get there alone.

And there is never shame in asking for help...  the only shame I find in love is within my own misguided intentions.

1 comment:

Jason Kichline said...

I agree with you on this post. But perhaps what you've identified is what makes love work, the offering of our broken selves to one another, and the other taking an interest in your hurts. If we would always be perfect and never let someone in or open up to someone, how can that be real love? I think that real love involves a sense of shared vulnerability to a degree. Perhaps that's why it hurts so much when we lose someone we love, because as humans we are fragile creatures. Some may be more broken than others, but we all long for someone to pick up the shattered pieces and the fragments of our hearts.

I also suffer from that same dilemma of wanting to be close to people, and to love them in the purist of ways as Christ loves. Of course that does not always work the way I intend. I just hope that doesn't mean I should stop trying either. After all we are called to love, and to love as Christ. But Christ made himself ultimately vulnerable and bore the shame and pain so that His love could be shown to us. I'm still struggling if that's the type of love I must show. Let us remember that each time we take communion, I believe we are participating with Christ in His suffering for the world around us. That is the kind of love we are called to.