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Love Poem
It is not always a pleasant thing to come to Christ. All around us are women in varying stages of hardened self-defense against the pains of un-love, abandonment, violation, fatherlessness, abuse and sin. To such women, from another, these poems have been written. The pair can be read individually, or back and forth from verse to verse, as a dialogue. ‘Cacophony’ is the cry of a woman’s heart to be loved, purified, and husbanded. The journey she has begun, of trusting her wooer, has become extremely painful as her vulnerability increases in response to his love. She feels betrayed and frightened as her self-protective cover drops away, revealing sin and pain. ‘Euphony’ is the response of Christ to this woman. His calm resolve to love and have her as his own is not upset by her self-loathing frenzy. Unperturbed even by her seeming hatred of him, he sees through to the deep need of her soul for healing through faithful love.
In her first verse, the woman’s sense of betrayal cries out in anger. The one she thought offered release from her painful life apparently insists she remain in it, and let go hope of happiness. His response, “Stay”, makes it clear to us it is she who is running away, and never he who would abandon his beloved. There is no condemnation in Christ’s response to this broken woman.
Her anger escalates and she throws the mirror at him – hating the ugliness she sees in herself and blaming it on him; casting him as the protagonist in her drama instead of seeing him as he is. The end result is to make her feel more awful than ever, as her tantrum has caused more brokenness and mess – more proof of her wretchedness. He is tender toward her; seeing past this nastiness with eyes that love her and see beauty in her. He reminds her that she already has a new life with him, having thrown down her false images of herself and become willing to live in truth.
Again, she snarls back at him sarcastically. It feels like mockery for him to call her beautiful. Her utter unworthiness to be his bride is clear to her, yet, desiring it, she is caught between the old life and the new and feels exposed, alone. Gently, but with a tone of authority, he reminds her of the price he has paid to bring her to freedom and to himself. Again, he promises his covering, his presence, his strength – the specific antidotes to her fears.
“No thanks,” she replies, “I know how to survive pain, alone, as always.” Her desire is to retreat until she can re-bury her deep woundedness under self-protective armor; to harden her heart and hide her face. Without a hint of anger, he lets her know who is boss. His reply is reminiscent of the scripture, “you are not your own, you were bought with a price.” He will not let her go, and his is the final word.
She makes a last stab at pushing him away, mocking his love and the life he offers and refusing any form of relationship. He reminds her that he has already won the battle for her heart, rescued her from the evil one, taken her as his own with all the treasure he finds in her, and named her ‘Beloved’. We are left hoping that she will run to his open arms and be wholly reconciled to her new identity in Christ.
Not every story of a soul can be as beautiful as St. Therese’s. Some of us have come to Christ world-weary and battle-toughened. We have needed layers and layers of defenses removed, deep wounds healed, and new foundations laid for trust in Love itself. We have wondered at times, “Is there anything you like about me, or am I a total loss?” as he disciplined us and held us to high standards. We have ranted and raved at ourselves, at others, at Christ. And Our Lord has responded with patient devotion, kindly tenderness, profound healing and newness of life. We are becoming the brides he desires, with the inner beauty of gentle, quiet, spirits. Truly, he is the Husband of our souls.
Cacophony
“Away from me!”
She shrieked and sobbed.
“I cannot bear a
love that me, so loved,
condemns to this
forsaken place where
dreams have died.”
The mirror crashed
that, hurled at her
protagonist, now
multiplied and shone
her wretchedness
in shards and splinters
at his feet.
“Kiss this,” she snarled
“The visage mocked
as beautiful and
lured into the light
to die alone
from mean exposure
to the heat.
Alone I’ll stay
to tend my wounds
now you’ve reopened
that which I had sealed
and thought to hide
or bury with my
face at last.
Not daughter, foe
or friend will I,
nor bride to husband
rich in love so poor
and naught to give
to heal me but this
broken life.”
Euphony
Stay, precious one,
I will not leave
you or forsake your
storm-tossed love while rage
has still its grip
on my beloved
enemy.
Behold, I see
your likeness now
a’shining in new
splendor broken free
from images
you cast in freedom
at my feet.
Kiss these, my love,
my wounded hands
and feet and side, my
gift, my covering
for you, my bride.
Together bear we
light of day.
That which I seal
and mark my own
to open at my
pleasure, pain and will
shall stand revealed
in glory from my
countenance.
Victorious I
o’er common foe.
I’ve plundered you and
name you my belov’d.
Come now, but share
my broken life and
be made whole.
This poem is available in an easier-to-print pdf on my Resources page.
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