Some of you know that I'm slightly obsessed with Sex and the City...for those of you that don't, well, I am...and though it can be a little crass at times, it is filled with real life truth experienced by anyone whose been in any sort of meaningful relationship, romantic or not.
Anyway, this post isn't about why I like the show...its about a song I heard in the last episode of the final season. Just as that episode captured the beauty of love realized, this song moved me to tears. I watched that part of the show like, 10 times.
Now, I know that I write often about the words in songs and how they speak to me. No such luck this time being that the artist is a French rapper and I am just a lowly American who can sort of crank out some Spanish. But I know that there is something in his music that moves me, transcending language. In fact I'm listening to him right now.
This happened again just a few weeks ago. I was driving back to Asheville from Apex and I stumbled across a radio station that played some local folk music. This one song struck me and, of course, I cried. This guy, Malcolm Holcombe, sang a dear song, and I loved his lyrics, but it wasn't the words that got me...it was the sadness in his voice. It was just that honest, and I wanted to be his friend.
I sat outside a few nights ago with a friend of mine on a stone wall, just outside a little chapel. It was chilly and the stars were out. We just talked and God was with us, somehow, and I think we both knew it.
Earlier that day I sat on the front porch of the house where I live, surrounded by trees and birds and mountains, and I rocked. I also read some Psalms.
Last night I went to a contra dance, and I'll be the first to admit its a hot time. People swirl and swing and sweat, laughing as they stare into their partner's eyes. Bodies are everywhere, together, dancing beautifully. No one wants the night to end.
I drove in to Black Mountain tonight in a soft rain. It was just light enough to see the peaks, and only the peaks, as the fog moved in...like mountains floating on a misty sea.
A new song, one by Josh Groban called Alle Luce del Sole, just started as I sit here in the Dripolater. This song...my word...I always say its what falling in love should be...passionate, desperate, almost despairing, hopeful, lovely. In fact, I'm going to listen to it again.
These things that I write about, these moments in my day--that's all they are, really, just moments--they matter. They are glimpses of beauty and longing and honesty, and they make my day. Its amazing how a conversation or a song or a view can make my day.
Its the Romance...that sweet Romance that is the Lord's generosity, the Lord's faithfulness, the Lord fingerprint on this world. Without Him there wouldn't be songs that make you ache. There wouldn't be talks that go far deeper than comments on the weather. There wouldn't be lovely days or chilly nights. There wouldn't be anything good. The Romance wouldn't even be an idea.
But it is an idea, and more than an idea, and we all know it. We know what it feels like to stand in awe or be moved by a sad voice. We want to love and be loved. We want to share our lives with others, whether we want to admit it or not. We want to stop and smell the flowers and hold someone's hand, just because.
And so, to the Lord I offer thanks...thank you for the Romance. Thank you for tastes of goodness and sweetness. Thank you for songs and music and mountains and dancing that, if we really think about it, point to You. Thank you for friends that encourage us in You. Thank you for people who love us--You are in that too. And thank you that even in the hard things, the suffering, the grief, the Romance can come and sweep us away. You are our comforter and our peace. Your eyes are on the nations, and your eyes are on us. Please God, never look away. Keep us, dear Lord, as You've wooed us to yourself, and continue to fill our days with the Romance, for it is sweet...