by MW Cook
I think Canadian Internet spoiled me.
I just finished reading ‘Thousand Splendid Suns.’ If you’ve never heard of it, get it and read it. It’s great. I’ll try to avoid spoilers in this post.
But it has the potential to be depressing. When I finished the climax scene I stopped reading for a second and looked up and just thought about it. It was sad. I was frowning about it when Ruth walked into the room with Asha in her arms. Joe followed them. And then I realized the (or a) point of the book.
I have love in my life.
I have a wife who loves me. I have kids who, as much as they are able to, love me. I have a family in Canada and Pakistan who loves me. I have friends all over the world who love me. Encouraging, yes?
But then I thought of something even more encouraging. I love them, too.
I think we’re all dark. Love doesn’t really come naturally to us. But when we do love, it’s about the most joyful, wonderful thing there is. I don’t think I love my family and friends without help. I am sure, knowing my heart and what it is, that the love I have would not have evolved on its own with divine help. God has enabled me to love.
So I looked at my wife and kids and thought to myself, “I love them.” There is the greatest blessing. Not that I’ve been given people who love me. But that I love them. Not that God loves me. But that God has helped me love him. ‘Jesus loves me.’ doesn’t encourage me nearly as much as this crazy, near-impossible phrase that I am able to say: ‘I love Jesus.’
Isn’t that the essence of being called out of darkness into his marvelous light?