We all feel it sometimes—that sense of the deep sorrow involved in living in this world, mingled with a poignant hope. Those who have read John Eldredge’s books will remember that he called it “the haunting.” I love that description. You know the feeling.

And you feel it when you watch your friend walk back into a situation that she’s beyond her ability to bear. Even knowing that you’re doing what you can to help her, a part of you wonders if you’re missing something—if you could go just a step further, and it would be enough.

You feel it as you watch a beautiful story about two brothers on a quest, making their way in a brutal world, possessing nothing—not even a body, in one case—but each other. The haunting pours out of the song they sing to each other, and out of all music, really; music, like art and story, convey what can never be expressed in only ‘so many words.’

And you feel it when you say something that, no matter how important or well-meant, hurts someone that matters to you. You watch the sword hit its mark, and everything inside you wants to get up and fling your arms around them; and you hold back because you wonder if it’s appropriate, and instead watch your respect for them grow in the grace of their response.

Hope changes everything. It's enough.

No comments:

Post a Comment

All comments are currently moderated. Friendly comments are welcomed with fairy music, magic wishes, and possible unicorn sightings. Troll comments will be Transfigured into decent-looking rocks or Vanished. Spam comments will be shot down with blasters.