Love is Life


Two roads diverged, in a vast wilderness. From the womb they went separate directions. Unknown to her, the mother gave birth to a broken heart.  

One was full of love and nurturing, and never ceased to be straight. As soon as it could stagger, the other road turned a crooked difference away.  


Mama and her son.  


From time to time the roads would intersect. But the traveler wore a knapsack full of deviance. Worn and tattered as it was, he had no intention of laying it down.  


When he would come near, mama would speak with every resource she had. “I love you. Come home and love me.”


Sometimes he would stay. But he never could love his mother. Eventually he would go back on his crooked path. Eventually the flood of tears would come to mama.  


Again and again and again and again, sorrow broke her heart.  


The mother died alone. A few decades later, the son also died. Estranged in life, estranged in death, estranged from each other for eternity.  


The horror of this story dragged on for 40 years. And the horror of the story is forever written in stone.  


How many billions of times must this story be written!

……………………………


The point of the story may be hidden from most who read it. If you understood it before now you are one of the very few.  


Nothing can change the will of a man to love. No words, no deeds, no pleading, no promises, no rewards, nothing. If a man will not love willingly he will not love at all.  


And if anyone had told the man, “You should go home and love your mother”, he would’ve been filled with indigence. Isn’t pride lord over deviant hearts?


Isn’t this the plight of our God? So willing to embrace ALL humanity. So deeply craving to be loved, so that he can give Life. But in almost everyone, he is considered a last resort. He’s just a place of warmth, security, familiarity, food, clothing, and trinkets.  


He promises eternal peace to those who love him. But like the man who could not love his mother, greed for the things she would leave him when she died is not the same as love while she was living.  


There are no words I can say. There is no deed I can do. There is nothing outside of a person that can change the will of anyone to love God. We either love him or we don’t. And if we don’t we never will.  


No promise of reward, no threat of destruction, no encouragement from our brothers, nothing. Salvation to glory forever rest in the will of every person. God is willing, are we?


And by this I am struck with amazement, even in myself.  


“Many are called but few are chosen.”

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