let’s spend our week nights eating cereal on the floor
when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.
we can go to the movies and sit in the back row
just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.
we’ll paint the rooms of our house
and get more paint on us than the walls.
we can hold hands and go to parties we end up
ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub.
and slow dance with me in our bedroom
with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.
let me love you forever.
Imagine how a man’s life would be if he trusted that he was loved by God. How could he interact with the poor and not show partiality, he could love his wife easily and not expect her to redeem him, he would be slow to anger because redemption was no longer at stake, he could be wise and giving with his money because money no longer represented points, he could give up on formulaic religion, knowing that checking stuff off a spiritual to-do list was a worthless pursuit, he would have confidence and the ability to laugh at himself, and he could love people without expecting anything in return. It would be quite beautiful, really.
I want this to be the essence of non-believers’ understanding of what Christians are like—and if that’s ever gonna happen, it’s gonna have to start with me choosing to not settle for mediocre; to let this quote be a change evoker instead of an ego-stroker. When words spark a light, you must fan it into vitality, feeding it until it becomes a chosen reality—a force of intentionality that’s rooted in conviction and blooming proof of redemption. I am inspired to be rewired by the gospel’s desires that should never expire because my life was meant to transpire the love and the grace that I’ve claimed to embrace. —LB