Saturday, April 17, 2010

Jónsi, Ephesians, and Perfume.

Go sing, too loud
Make your voice break
Sing it out
-"Go Do" by Jónsi

My mother has been asking me for awhile to start writing again, but up until now I just haven't found much inspiration. I am quite ecstatic about what's going on in my daily life (from school--which is proving to be one of the best choices I've made to date--and church to friends and work), but I think that I've lately been too caught up in the busy, though not overly chaotic, flow of my schedule to truly appreciate the beauty that constantly surrounds me. For the past few weeks I've been trying my best to slow down a bit and open my eyes, broaden my mind, and try to grasp even the slightest understanding of what God desires for me in this season (I feel like I've written about this sort of thing before, but I don't think it's redundant to seek the Lord's guidance with every new chapter of life).

I live in a beautiful mess of a city. Atlanta is diverse, it's expansive, and it evokes so many different emotions from me that I don't know where to begin. Since moving to Midtown, I have met new people in restaurants and coffee shops, at the park and on the streets, and pretty much everywhere else I can frequently be found. Not one person I've met shares the exact same story as another, but every person does share one common quality:

They crave love.

I know I often write about loving people, but I feel like I'm being challenged to do it in a way I've never experienced before. The beginning of Ephesians 5 says, "Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." This kind of love, a God-reflecting love, requires total and complete abandon. It's more than just selflessness; it's no-holds-barred, free of inhibitions, wild and crazy love. Childlike love. Love like my niece feels for her little brother, the kind that inspires him to follow her everywhere she goes, regardless of the fact that she can run and he can only crawl, because he just wants to be wherever she is. We should be so enthralled by our Father's love for us that our greatest desire is to dwell in His presence; if we are truly living as children of God, His love will overflow from us, revealing His heart to everyone we encounter. Baristas, classmates, co-workers, neighbors, and every person we encounter will see something different in us. They will see past us, and, even if they cannot yet identify it, they will catch a glimpse of the kind of love God wants to lavish on them.

This love requires our sacrifice. We have to die to our fears of the world, our fears of seeming foolish or naive. We have to sacrifice our pride and our vanity, but doing so will leave us so rich with the fragrant love of our Father that we will be like the sweetest and most irresistible perfume available.

We might not always smell sweet; we all have our "off" days, the ones where one thing or another puts us in a foul, self-absorbed mood, thus leaving us smelling more like a JV football team's locker room than Chanel No. 5, but that is why we serve a forgiving God. Even though we might end up reeking of the world, His fragrance is never any less perfect.

So let's do it. Let's sing too loud. Let's play in the rain. Let's be childlike. We have nothing to lose but the chains holding us down.

Make your voice break. Sing it out.

Peace and love,
Lo B.