Saturday, July 08, 2006

Love Is Of God: Insight about the "problem" from Anglican priest, Maggi Dawn+, across the Pond

Love is of God.

Without the love of our parents, sisters, brothers, spouses, lovers, and friends, we cannot live. Without love we die. Still, for many people this love comes in a very broken and limited way. It can be tainted by power plays, jealousy, resentment, vindictiveness, and even abuse. No human love is the perfect love our hearts desire, and sometimes human love is so imperfect that we can hardly recognise it as love.
In order not to be destroyed by the wounds inflicted by that imperfect human love, we must trust that the source of all love is God’s unlimited, unconditional, perfect love, and that this love is not far away from us but is the gift of God’s Spirit dwelling within us.

Henri Nouwen

"I read this quote on Sunday Papers. I was thinking on the way home from a trip away last weekend that the Church is often so over-concerned with monitoring our experiences of love, deciding whether or not they are "allowed", that we lose the freedom to accept love as and when we find it. Instead of knowing ourselves loved, we worry ourselves sinful... "

Read it all here:


Will said...

I have loved the writings of Henri Nouwen for some time now, especially noting the profound suffering that brought him to a clearer understanding of God's love and the truth that we are brothers and sisters in Christ. It was at the darkest time of my life thus far that I discovered his "The Inner Voice of Love", and recognized it as a gift from God to my very pain filled heart. Maggie Dawn+, thank you especially for these words you wrote: "Instead of knowing ourselves loved, we worry ourselves sinful..."

Morgan said...

I, too, have been richly blessed in my journey by the writings of Henri Nouwen. This encouraging piece by Maggie Dawn + reminded me of the lyrics of a hymn we sang in the church in which I was raised:

"If we with ink the ocean fill
And were the stars of parchment made
And every stalk on earth a quill
And every (wo)man a scribe by trade

To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor would the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky."