Tag Archives: love

God’s Infinite Love

The rambling of a Christian AP Calculus AB student about God’s love and math:

God’s love is ∞ (infinite) and always continuous

God’s love doesn’t have holes or sharp turns or cusps in it

God’s love has no limits

Makes your sins DNE (Does Not Exist)

God and us were parallel lines,

we were never going to intersect

but then Jesus died on a cross  (perpendicular lines)

so that we could meet.

God’s love is irrational (π), it doesn’t make sense why He would love us like He does

but it is real (7) and radical (√) anyway

When we share God’s love it does not subtract (-) from our own;

rather, it multiplies (*) and adds (+) meaning to other’s lives

He knows eXactly where to find us

and He knows “Y” (why) we are there

He knows you from you minima to your maxima

His love circles you X² + Y² = r²

from your center to your tangent line

To love God back has the absolute greatest value

We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God

It is a simple opposite over hypotenuse equation

the opposite side is always shorter than the hypotenuse

our sinned filled lives are always shorter than God’s perfection

God’s love to our love is not ∝ (proportional)

it is always > (greater than)

***

Of course I’ve saved the best for last: God’s math

1 cross + 3 nails = 4given

math-love

Love Extravagantly

I created a Christian mix tape this past summer and my mom, sister and her best friend and I were driving to an amusement park listening to the CD. On the mix was Proof of Your Love by for King and Country (which has the best music video I have ever seen in a Christian song). In the middle of the song are these beautiful words about love. We all stopped and just listened. Not until months later did I find where the words came from. I get a Bible verse on my phone everyday and I like the Message translation better than NIV in most cases. When I first read these words, I was dumbstruck. I could easily recite 1 Corinthians 13 – which is known as the love chapter – in the New International Version, but when I read it in the Message it felt so new and alive. So below I am sharing with you the Message version of 1 Corinthians 13.


If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.

When I was an infant at my mother’s breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.

We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

Something Amazing

When I was younger, my sister and I would pick dandelion bouquets for our mother. Even though it wasn’t a dozen roses, it was just a handful of weeds, my mother still loved it. The dandelion bouquet was a double bonus: a sign of our love for her and she got her garden weeded. The same way it is for God, we do good works because we love Him and want to please Him. It is also a double bonus: a sign of our love for God and we help His other children.

No matter how big our dandelion-picking-love is for God, His will always be bigger, deeper, fuller, all consuming love. His grace in saving us wasn’t just what we did not deserve but He also chases after us. He pursues us with His love and His grace. He sacrificed His son and He won’t let that go to waste.

God didn’t just save us willy-nilly, He didn’t just say, “Sure, I’ll take that one”; He didn’t choose you by accident. God didn’t create you by mistake and He sure didn’t save you by mistake. God created you and loved you for a divine reason. God gave you a second chance and a third chance and a twentieth chance and fifty-seventh chance for a reason! He did it more than just because He loves you, more than because He wants you to be happy, He did it because He has a divine purpose for you. God sent His son to die a horrific death on the cross to save you so that you could do something amazing. Something amazing like sitting and listening to a coworker after a hard day. Something amazing like baby-sitting for a single mom. Something amazing like visiting someone in a nursing home. Something amazing like building a house. Something amazing like being known as the Christian in the family. Something amazing like fixing cars. You have been saved for a purpose and that is to do good works, to help others. When we love others, we are loving our Lord and we are fulfilling the first and the second greatest commandments.

We are to live saved every day, we are to live knowing that there is a God up there and that He is large and in charge. We are to use our talents to fulfill our God-given, divine purpose every day. If you think your background, age, or  education are reasons why God can’t use you, think again. Look at who the Lord Almighty, Creator of the heavens and the Earth, chose to be His son’s earthly foster parents: an unwed teenage peasant girl and a carpenter from a town in the middle of nowhere. Look at who Jesus, our Savior and Redeemer, spent His time with: under-educated fishermen, crooked tax collectors, reformed prostitutes. If you believe that God created the universe, then God using you to fulfill a divine purpose is like a cakewalk to Him.

Now go out and do something amazing, go out and fulfill your purpose knowing that God has your back and your future.


“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Jeremiah 29:13

grace

Flicker/Art4TheGlryOfGod by Sharon

Beloved, ~ A Petrarchan Sonnet

A poem from the perspective of a character in my novel Varietal


Beloved, inquired for my lust to live

If he comprehend not, have he desire?

I fancy morning dew, du jour attire

Freshly brewed tea, memories to relive

I love these, but theirs is quite allusive

Beloved, same? Love life since it expire

He is overdo to see the hell fire

 

In my brief time, let me teach him to love

Start with simplicity, then live wholly

For love is in the chase, not the binding

Love of life due to celebration of

Dance. Dance with me, Beloved, joyfully

Be unlike morning dew. No love should sting

 

ladybug-574971_960_720

Pixabay/user:ddouk

The Architect

He had a plan,

a dream really.

He was going to build

the most beautiful mansion

for him and his future wife to live in.

It would be where they would laugh,

dance,

cry,

throw parties,

live life and grow old together.

It would be their sanctuary from the world,

their piece of peace.

All that would matter is that it would be their’s,

together,

and he was going to build it.

His midnight thoughts were consumed with this grand project,

instead of his girl laying next to him.

He had all the blueprints,

the best laid plans,

perfect.

French doors,

marble counter tops,

balconies,

acres and acres of gardens.

It would all be for her,

it would take years,

but it would all be for her.

He kept it a secret,

he wanted this house to be a surprise.

But in his endeavors,

he grew distant,

skipped Sunday movie night,

didn’t showed up for dates,

even when he did, he seemed far off in his own world.

Little did his girlfriend know was that

he was dreaming of their future,

but couldn’t stay in the present.

Little did she know

Little did she know

Little did she know

Finally, she had enough

enough waiting

enough being let down

enough being put on the sidelines

Little did the Architect know about how she felt

Little did the Architect know about how she felt

Little did the Architect know about how she felt

Finally, the mansion was ready

enough walls painted

enough missing time with his girlfriend

enough calls about the house that he had to cover up

She said the two words before he did

She said “break up”

He said “marry me”

The Architect built something magnificent for his magnificent

but all he was left with was the shell and not the reason

Too much of his time was built on a future to never happen

He had a plan,

a dream really.

He was going to build

the most beautiful mansion

for him and his future wife to live in.

It would be where they would  . . .

blueprint-964629_960_720

Pixabay/user:Wokandapix

He Brought Her Roses

Every day he would bring her roses. He would set his alarm for 3:30 AM to get to her cello practice room before she did. She was dedicated, two and a half hour practices before school. Those hours of practice were what life should be all about. Life should be struggles to hit the right cord, but the happiness that follows when your part of the symphony is perfect. She was what life should be.

He would slip into her soundproof room and carefully place a single rose on her sheet music. The roses would differ every time, but without fail there would always be a fragile flower waiting when the elegant cellist would come to make the world a little bit better, a little bit brighter. The roses would be passionate dark red like the dress she wore when he first saw her at her symphony. Or the rose would be white as the snow on her birthday in January. He would always feel elated when he dropped the pink rose on her stand because it was soft and sweet like he imagined her lips to be. The yellow rose would remind him of couples walking in the summer time and the girls wearing their sundresses and how he wanted that to be him and the cellist. The peachy-orange was like the sunrise he watched as she played.

He must have spent thousands on roses for a girl he never dared talk to. He must have lost countless hours of sleep thinking about the one smile she had ever cast on him. He must have gone crazy for the girl to stop his college education so he could watch her every move. He must have.

She would laugh when ice cream dribbled down her chin in the hot hot summer time. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh like that. She would dance like no one was watching at the clubs. He wanted to dance with her like that. She would care enough to help the homeless person outside her daily coffee shop to buy them a warm drink. He wanted that caring towards him.

He fell in love with the girl who never knew his name.

One day she never came to practice. He still dropped off her rose like he always did and waited. The rose was still there when he came to give the rose of next day. She had never missed two days of practice in a row. Music was her life; her music was his life. He continued with his normal routine and went to her apartment. She was not home, but her car was still in the parking lot.

He had never gone into her apartment before, but he had to find out what was wrong. He had to find out what had made life wrong. He slowly turned her doorknob like so many times he wanted to, but could not put his courage where his heart was. Unlocked. She should not leave her door unlocked in a city like this, who knows what kind of creepers could break in. The door swung open and her apartment was just like he imagined. Nothing out of place. Bright colors. Modern furniture. Photos of friends on the fridge. A worn looking copy of The Great Gatsby opened to page 95 was in her chair.

“There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams – not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.”

Her bed looked just like her personality with a yellow sunflower comforter. So welcoming. Except for what lay on it. Towards the upper-middle was a rather large crimson stain. A fresh crimson stain. With eyes open to see the stars twinkle happily at her music laid the cellist with a bullet to her brunette head. Gun in her right hand and her left pointing to a note. Of course. Always leave a note.

They said I was not talented enough. They said I was not good enough. They said to move on and live a real life. If someone is reading this, then that means I chose a real death. I was actually cut from the program months ago, but they let me still use their practice rooms until I moved. Music was my life, my whole life and I do not know what that means without Juilliard giving me a chance. I think I would have ended it right there if not for the roses. Ever since I came to the school there has been roses on my stand each morning, but I came to value them more and more when no one seemed to value me. They would remind me of better times, brighter times. These past few months, I saved each and every one. But roses are not enough. Life got too disappointing and roses could not fill that void.

He walked out. He left everything the way it was for the police and her family. Except for the note. The note was for him. The note was because of him.

He continued to bring roses. He brought roses for months afterwards. A new rose was placed at her forgotten stand even when her apartment was cleaned out. Even though years went by as did the people who used that room, no one disturbed the stand with thousands of roses left in the corner. On the day of his retirement party for working at the school as a janitor for forty years, he placed her last rose.

The cellist had stolen his heart as she had stolen her life.

 

 

sheet-music-944796_960_720

Inspired by the image Pixabay/user:Fotocitizen

 

Perfectly Alone With You

Love

it is so overused

But I can’t seem to find another perfect word

that people might understand

it’s true depth of it’s meaning.

You are just always there

but when you are gone

part of me is gone with you.

. . . I don’t feel complete

I can be perfectly alone with you.

I can laugh about nothing

but we both know it’s something.

You know what I’m going to say

before I say and you already have a quippy comeback

I love all your corners

and miss them when they do not hold me.

Words do not convey what emotions can

and even them my heart can’t hold

all the strawberry jelly

(Inside Joke)

You and I have lived so much of the same life

and I can’t wait for more to experience with you.

I try not to look into the distance

because once upon a future

I’m not going to be able to share

every

single

second

with you.

Yes, I do not now.

But I know where you are

and what you are doing

and even that hurts not being with you.

I want your corners to hold me

and never let go.