Living Loved

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 2/52

For my birthday this year, my boyfriend Pat and I celebrated by going to Buca di Peppo for dinner, just the two of us. Before we left, Pat surprised me with this single red rose pictured to the right. Classy, huh? I carried the rose with me into the restaurant, signaling to every turn of the head and every glance of the eye that someone (aka the man next to me who's holding my hand) loved me a lot. After all, everyone knows red roses say, "I love you."

This past week, week 2 of my 52 Week Project, I’ve been thinking a lot about love, but not in the dramatic teenage girl way. Now that I’m 20 years old, I’ve left those childish trains of thought to choo-choo back to where they belong. Wherever that is, I’m not quite sure, but it is certainly not in my head. At least not for now. No, this week I’ve traveled down a curiously winding path of thoughts about what it means to be loved, to feel loved, to live loved.

We all need love; our human souls hunger for it like our stomachs crave food. We want it bad. Many of our decisions even stem from our desire for love. Often times we act one way when we know that someone really loves us, when we feel loved, but other times we act totally different when it feels like no one really cares. Feeling loved, or the lack of love, can significantly affect our mood, self-esteem, eating and sleeping habits; our joy, peace and contentment; our patience, kindness, and generosity. Needless to say, love is important. This we know.

Now, I’m not so sure that love literally makes the world go ‘round, but I do know that Love created this world because the Bible says that God is love. It also directly states, “This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Surely I’ve read that verse many times, but this week, it has unmistakably colored my vision. In our eyes, roses act as a good signal of love, but as a sign of God’s love, roses don’t nearly suffice, for God’s love infinitely exceeds our own. Jesus, instead, is like God’s rose given to us, something we can hold on to, an indicator of how much we are passionately loved by the Creator of the universe.

If we really are loved by God that much, so much so that he would descend from Heaven, live among us, and die in order that we may have life, than we should act differently, right? We should not be ashamed of God's love but rather should put Jesus on display through the manner in which we live. Every turning head and glancing eye that sees us walking through the restaurant, or wherever we may be, ought to recognize God’s great love radiating from our faces. With Jesus as our red rose, our sign of God’s love to us and to the world, we can all rest assured of one thing:

We can live loved, for that is what we are. Loved. Dearly loved children of God. May we start acting like it.

How Sweet the Sound

(Preface--This year I have chosen to embark on the 52 Week Project in which I will take one meaningful picture each week throughout the year. I have also committed to writing a "short" description of each photo's significance. The following post marks the beginning of my journey.)

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 1/52

A close friend gave this wind chime to my mom for Christmas this year, and it conveniently hangs right below my bedroom window. With each wintery gust, it never fails to send an array of charming notes up my way. Every night this week I've fallen asleep to its distinct tune; upon waking, I hear it as well. Loud and clear. I can't ignore it, escape it, nor deny it. Not that I would want to after that of which it has come to remind me.

What is this sweet sound you may ask? None other but the melodic pitches of English poet and clergyman John Newton's classic hymn Amazing Grace. You know how it goes: "Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me..."

Now, if the wind chime outside my window obnoxiously chimed any old, random tune, I'd probably muster up enough ugliness to chop off its strings, thus muting its noise, and make it look like an accident, a natural disaster of sorts on an exceedingly smaller scale. You see, I'm the kind of girl who values her sleep, makes it a top priority, and becomes surprisingly agitated when someone or something deprives her of, disrupts her from, or infringes upon that precious time of her much needed slumber.

However, these chimes have had quite a different effect on the attitude of my heart. Each time the wind blows through them, it seems to me as if the Holy Spirit is surrounding our house, rushing all around, reminding me that only by God's amazing grace am I alive today, both physically and spiritually speaking. In thinking about the Spirit and wind, I found that throughout the Bible, 111 times in the New Testament in fact, the Greek word "pneuma" or "wind" has symbolized the Holy Spirit's presence. I know he is still very much alive and working in mysterious ways today. Just like the wind, we can't see Him but we can hear Him, feel Him, and see his effects. And for that, I give total praise and thanks to the Lord of lords and King of kings, my Savior, my defender, my everything. Amazed by its sweet sound, God's grace has saved me, and the wind chimes below my window have so beautifully reminded me of that. Just in time for the new year with its new beginnings. Because of God's grace, we can be made new.

May we always stand amazed and never forget Ephesians 2:8-10, which says, "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."

My Daily Dose of Beauty

This past summer I invested in a new digital camera. Nothing too over-the-top, but complex enough that I'm still trying to figure out how to fully utilize all of its high-tech settings. After trying to capture our family vacation to Florida, our friend's wedding, a Philly's game or two, going to college, coming home for Fall Break, and the many memorable moments in between, I presently I find myself with the most precious little puppy sprawled across my lap on this year's Christmas Eve eve.

I absolutely love taking pictures. I love looking back and remembering. Making memories is one thing, but for me, holding on to them, appreciating and cherishing them, is of great value.

Out of the thousands of pictures I've taken since July, the vast majority has been of people and nature. Both of which radiate beauty from their core. But there's something about flowers in particular that has captured my eye.

Their vibrant color, delicate form, and breath of pureness, their complexity wrapped up in the beauty of simplicity, their ability to nourish, comfort, and inspire. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I love flowers. Along with the rest of nature's adornments, the eloquent beauty of a flower often provides me with my daily dose of beauty that my soul so desperately craves.

If we didn't need beauty in our lives, then God could've created a colorless, dreary, flowerless Earth in which we would feel satisfied living the mundane life. But if you stop for a minute amidst the chaos of last minute Christmas shopping, cooking, and cleaning, and look around, the beauty of creation speaks.

Its beauty invites us to linger, take it in, explore--and as we gaze upon the magnificent creation around us, we can catch a glimpse of the Creator's beauty as well, reminding us of the hope of eternity where more beauty awaits, ready to be unveiled upon our arrival.

This Christmas, don't busy yourself so much so that you miss your chance to stop and smell the roses (or the fresh pine and gingerbread cookies), to gaze upon the beauty all around you, and to draw near to and thank the God who encompasses the very essence of beauty and makes this season one worth celebrating.