"I write for adults who might have been broken along the way, who faced sexual temptations and failed, who clung to their purity but succumbed to what they thought was love; to those who feel passion but wonder how God feels about it; who've partaken of what the world offers and come up empty; for those who've stayed faithful, and for those who are waiting for the one God has for them no matter how lonely it can be."
I wrote the above description a few years ago. It still applies. Even in my new effort which is a police procedural, this general theme surfaces throughout the story. It's been said - and debated - ad nauseam "write what you know". I know what it's like to have noble intentions only to watch them erode and crumble away like the stalwart cliffs that meet the ocean's incessant pounding.
Life doesn't easily accommodate our best intentions. We, as individuals and collectively, continue to place obstacles in our paths because of our imperfections from our sin nature. Those who don't recognize Christianity's definition of the fallen state of man continue to believe in an attainable utopia where all things they think are possible can be accomplished by them with the cooperation of others.Oftentimes when things go wrong, it's the fault of others who fail to see things the way they do. There is nothing quite so arrogant as a staunch belief in one's own abilities or in the overall capabilities of mankind.
When you attempt to achieve love without the Creator, you find a self-serving relationship laden with sacrificial tendencies, usually one moreso than the other. Human love is rife with imbalance, narcissism, convenience, resentment, finger-pointing, and martyrdom.
Christian love is difficult enough. All the tendencies of human love warring against the kind of love that puts another before oneself grind on the souls of those who attempt to truly love. People break down in the process. They stumble, fall, and refuse to stand; some never recover, abandoning their character and returning to the mire of failure, of the world's version of love sans any form of sacred union. Others reach out for forgiveness and start the long and arduous trek back to spiritual solvency, to gain that sacred trust once again and to rebuild the shredded sinews of the heart of love.
I've stumbled so many times before and after Christ. I've contemplated staying in the mire, but when Jesus rescued me the contrast was so distinct the decision was made to never return. Sometimes the devastation of falling is so severe, I've doubted I could stand again, but submitting to the strength of heavenly arms willing to hoist me up and clean me off is unequaled to anything the world offers.
So. What am I really saying? I write for me. And people like me . . .
God, thank you is never enough. Jesus, thank you for being real. Holy Spirit, thank you for the whispers of truth. In the name of Jesus, Amen.