Love Life Word Work

I got a copy (from a yard sale) of a beautiful book by Harold Bell Wright. Shepherd of the Hills was his second book, and was followed by others I haven’t read yet that sequel it. It’s a story of love, regret, atonement, but mostly, in my view, love. Of course I tend to see love everywhere.
I was amazed by the writing skill of this author whom I did not previously know much about. This book was originally published in 1907 and has become an important part of the story of the Ozarks and Branson area, where the story is set. Not that he was perfect—he had some wordy paragraphs that didn’t need to be so wordy and some flowery phrases that didn’t need to be so flowery, but his story-telling skill made up for these weaknesses. It held me closely attentive until I finished, particularly toward the end.
It had mystery, unexpected twists and turns, sorrow and grief and, of course, a beautiful love story.
Harold Bell Wright grew up poor in New York and Ohio, became a minister, then reached out to the wider world by writing novels.
You can read the story for free online or I would be thankful to earn a few pennies if you buy it (or anything else) through my amazon picture link here.
Here’s a quote I like from the character Dad Howitt:

“Here and there among men, there are those who pause in the hurried rush to listen to the call of a life that is more real. How often have we seen them … jostled and ridiculed by their fellows, pushed aside and forgotten, as incompetent or unworthy. He who sees and hears too much is cursed for a dreamer, a fanatic, or a fool, by the mad mob, who, having eyes, see not, ears and hear not, and refuse to understand.
“We build temples and churches, but will not worship in them; we hire spiritual advisers, but refuse to heed them; we buy bibles, but will not read them; believing in God, we do not fear Him; acknowledging Christ, we neither follow nor obey Him. Only when we can no longer strive in the battle for earthly honors or material wealth, do we turn to the unseen but more enduring things of life; and, with ears deafened by the din of selfish things of life; and, with eyes blinded by the glare of passing pomp and folly, we strive to hear and see the things we have so long refused to consider.”

Good quote, good character, good book, good author. I would like to be more like each one of them myself.

I have jumped into the blogger pool and have made a new weblog called Open Source Love. It’s about the universality of love, the basis of natural law and all law, for that matter. Really love the is the root of all life on earth, the best thing—really the only thing.

I want to develop an interactive site. I already have the name, but first I will ruminate by blogging in the blogging pool and seeing if I get any feedback.

Here it is: Open Source Love

Purity is concerned with touching in love, not refraining from touch.

How do I know I am lovable? A lady brought it up at Wednesday night prayer service this past week. She said, “You are lovable; don’t let anyone tell you that you are not.”

I thanked her for it afterwards. Then out on the front steps I stumbled into a small discussion that included her again and some other loved ones. I brought it up again and she was very willing to repeat the premise. God made us and loves us and so we are lovable.

But I have another proof. Here’s how it flows. I look at other people and see that they are lovable. How do I know they are lovable? Because I see their beauty and value and I love them.
So I see others as lovable and I know I am like them. So I know I am too. I know other people should love me. They should take a look at me, listen to my voice, look in my face and love me. I should do the same for them. If we look at each other with true eyes, then we should see each other truly.

But if we look at each other with lens-caps over our eyes we will not see each other, we will not know of each other’s real existence, we will not know each other needs to love and be loved.

And it is certainly possible for us to have persons right in front of us, and many times for long periods of time, without our seeing them at all. We see an image of what we think that person to be. We see phantoms that reside in the air between our souls and the soul of the other. We even see ourselves as phantoms of the same sort. Because we look at ourselves in the mirrors of others and those mirrors are false because they are of our own making.

God, look at me with true eyes and tell me what you see.

Can Boys and Girls Be Friends? Yes! And I’m ready to prove it, or die trying.

The place I work is a little like summer camp—it’s a fun place where we are free to make friends with men and women alike. Admittedly we don’t make friends with everyone, but some people we have an affinity for, or with. That is good.

And sometimes people get crushes on other people, but that’s … OK. We just remember what Stuart Smalley used to say on SNL, ‘people like me’. And it’s not just funny men who say that.

I have men friends too. I enjoy the company of men and, let’s face it, I feel a little more comfortable with men friends. Not because I like them more or favor them, but just because … well … they are kind of like old shoes. You just feel more comfortable.

With friends of the opposite sex there can certainly be twinges of anxiety. To me that is built in. It goes with the territory. It’s a function of eros—or quite simply, la difference. [just put a Maurice Chevalier accent on that phrase and you’ve got it]

But it is worth the trouble because each gender is only half the population of the earth and that’s a lot of people to not be friends with.

So let’s do, OK?

I have been listening with much trepidation concerning Abdul Rahman, the Afghan man put on trial for his faith. I heard Sunday, first on the radio then in church, that he was found mentally incompetent to stand trial and released. Thank God and thank you wise Afghan judge. Good call, I pray God’s protection and provision on you.

Now Mr. Rahman has gone to Italy for asylum. Again thank God and thank you Italy. Tears welled up into my eyes when I heard. The moral, spiritual and poetic ramifications are far-reaching.

Italy, you have done well. Any country could have, and would have, but you got there first and here’s the great thing: it is more a blessing for you than it is for him. He might have died (blessed) at the hands of the Afghan government. Or, upon being released, he might have gone to his house and been murdered and still would have been counted blessed for his courage and faithfulness. But now you, Rome, can be counted blessed. You have the blessing of this courageous man resting on you. I hope you will bear it well and humbly.

Love is first, last and everywhere in between. Love is our business, our pleasure, our arts and sciences, our dream and reality. If we do not have enough love we usually look for more. If we think we have less love now than we did before we go looking for where we lost it.

Sometimes we get bitter and disillusioned. But disillusionment is not really about love; it is about our illusions of love. The bitterness is always about the illusions. But love is not an illusion; love is the reality. Illusions are images which draw on parts and pieces of reality but are put together in a distorted way. Love without illusions is always there but we don’t always see it.

God is love but we don’t always see Him.

What does it means to say that God is love? I don’t know exactly. Does it mean God is equal to love or love is equal to God? Does it mean God is full of love or love is full of God? I don’t know exactly.

I do know that love is more than we think it is, as God is more than we think He is.

Love is more important than we think it is. I think love is all-important. I think it is infinitely important. Once I heard Mark Gershmel sing a song called “Love is Everything.” It touched me deeply. I don’t even remember any of the words but that one phrase—that’s enough.