All right you guys, I’m going to try not to get too metaphorical or too sentimental in this post. (It might be difficult.) Thursday morning, I was sitting alone in a mostly empty plane, next to a window. And the sunlight was just streaming in. My engagement ring caught the light and scattered it everywhere in shards of colored beauty.
I had just left the biggest loves of my life behind in Manhattan and was flying – alone – to Memphis for a short week of rehearsals and concerts. But I wasn’t leaving all my loves behind in just that single place – some of my loves are in Texas and Florida, in Colorado and North Carolina. Some are in Brooklyn and Astoria. Some are in the woods and some are here no more. Some are words in books, some are the notes of a score. Some are the crashing waves and some are the breathtaking sunsets.
I have many loves.
And although I was leaving some behind – I was also heading straight for some others.
I remember when I graduated from high school, and then college. I remember not wanting to leave each place because I could not imagine finding friends whom I could love more than those I already had. I felt full, in my friendships, and like my heart just did not have room for any more loves. (And I did not want to admit – or did not yet understand – that some of those high school and college loves would eventually fade.)
And I remember when I found out I was pregnant with Hannah Grace. Among the many things I initially experienced, I was afraid that I would not be able to love any more. My heart was so full of new love for Harrison, and new love for Jacob, and these were such big loves – I didn’t think I had any more room.
But of course I did. (As many people had told me I would.) And of course my heart expanded and changed and made room for another love.
So as I looked at the scattered light from the diamond of my ring – it reminded me of the way love is. Each reflected sparkle was equally beautiful – and equally unique. Each caught the light in a particular way, and each was breathtaking just on its own. And the more I turned and tilted my hand, the more angles of the sun my ring caught – and so with each turn, new fragments of light were scattered about. They were all beautiful.
My love for my children, my husband, my close family, my friends – it’s a diamond kind of love.
Each love is unique, beautiful. And as I go through life, turning and tilting about on my path, I find new loves, I make new loves. And they are all beautiful. And all different.
I also believe God’s love is a diamond kind of love.
Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;
your judgments are like the great deep;
man and beast you save, O Lord.
How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light do we see light. — Psalm 36: 5-9
We love, because He first loved us. — 1 John 4:19
God’s love is perfect, complete, whole – and, like a diamond – ultimately indestructible. Unfailing. It’s a tough love. And it’s a love capable of infinite, beautiful loves.
In fact, I believe that’s why we can love so much – God loved us first, and he loves us completely. He gave us the ability to love, and He gave us the desire to love Him, if we choose to. He’s the one who inclines our hearts towards things of beauty; He’s the one who plants that longing in our hearts for something more – something perfect, something unfailing and unbreakable.
Who has not experienced that ache, when in the presence of a thing of beauty? Have you traced it to its source? Have you found God there?