Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published March 13, 2015
And when they ask you, ‘Why are you groaning?’ you shall say, ‘Because of the news that is coming. Every heart will melt with fear and every hand go limp; every spirit will become faint and every leg will be wet with urine.’ It is coming! It will surely take place, declares the Sovereign Lord.”Ezekiel 21:7 (NIV)
The prophets had to have been a strange lot. They were prone to do strange things and act out obscure (what we would, today, call “performance art”) productions in public places. Their personal lives were often metaphors for the messy spiritual condition of the culture. Their steady stream of public messages were not known for their tact or their propriety.
Take today’s chapter, for example. God tells Ezekiel to stand out in the public square and groan. Not just a little “I think the cream cheese on that bagel didn’t agree with me” groan. GROAN like your beloved mother just died. GROAN like a husband who just found out his wife was sleeping with his best friend. GROAN like you feel a hideous creature ready to burst out of your insides as in the movie Alien. Make a public spectacle of yourself so that people will circle around you in wonder and mothers shoo their young children away from you in fear.
Then, when people start asking Zeke what’s wrong, God tells him to say, “When I tell you YOU’RE GOING TO PEE YOUR PANTS!”
While I’m not sure they would make the most enjoyable dinner guests, there are times when I find the old prophets really refreshing. They remind me that, while there is a time for propriety, there are also times in life for saying things in a way that would make your Aunt Nita blush and shrink back in shame. There are moments for communication that smacks of brash, in-your-face impropriety.
Of course, wisdom is required in choosing the right moments. The key part is knowing when to speak and when to keep silent.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published January 29, 2015
In the first year of Belshazzar king of Babylon, Daniel had a dream, and visions passed through his mind as he was lying in bed. He wrote down the substance of his dream. Daniel 7:1 (NIV)
Last week I had a dream and I referenced it in the message I delivered on Sunday. I dreamt of a giant whale shark that was swimming in the river Thames. It was so big that it was almost as wide as the river itself. It lifted up out of the water and a gust of wind burst from its wide mouth like an exhale. As this happened I thought to myself that the mighty sea beast really needed a 300-gallon bottle of Scope.
What did my dream mean? Nothing really. The previous evening in conversation someone had referenced a whale shark. The city of London had come into the conversation as well. I believe that my dream was simply regurgitating in its subconscious state the images and bytes of conversation from the previous day.
A few years ago I had a very different dream about tornadoes. I woke up and was troubled by what I had seen much like Daniel in today’s chapter. I wrote down the dream and shared it with a few individuals. I can still recall the dream in its vivid entirety, but also like Daniel, will choose to keep it largely to myself for now. I admit that I don’t understand all of what I saw and experienced in that dream but I knew that this dream was different. It had been given to me, though the reason has yet to become clear.
I have come to believe that there are two errors one can make with relation to dreams. One is to dismiss them entirely. There are numerous instances throughout history of people having very specific dreams for, it turns out, very specific purposes that cannot be wholly explained by science. We should take note and pay attention when prompted in our spirit to do so. The second error is to make too much of dreams. Some dreams are simply whale sharks in the river Thames, and I believe it a fool’s errand to spend too much time and energy searching for metaphorical meaning in every subconscious vision that emanates from our brains’ nocturnal processing.
Centuries later there are, and have been, numerous interpretations of Daniel’s dream of the four beasts in today’s chapter. I have read and studied several of them over the years, and I have my own thoughts on which interpretations have credibility. Nevertheless, Daniel’s dreams have little bearing on my day. I have a long day ahead of me with several presentations to make for a client, tasks that must be accomplished, and people to show love and kindness. I am reminded this morning by Daniel’s dreams that the times and eras and kingdoms of this world are part of the Great Story which, I believe, is already written and continues to be slowly revealed in the borders of time and space that were set in creation. It’s fascinating to ponder Danny Boy’s dreams and discuss them over a pint. The bottom line, however, is that I have my own small part to play in the Story, and so I begin my day.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published on August 8, 2017
The king asked them, “What kind of man was it who came to meet you and told you this?”
They replied, “He had a garment of hair and had a leather belt around his waist.”
Wendy and I have no cable or satellite television at our place on the lake. We can’t even get a digital broadcast signal. So, when we’re at the lake we tend to watch movies from our collection of DVDs. A while back we watched a young Clint Eastwood in one the spaghetti westerns that made him famous (The Good, the Bad, the Ugly, A Fist full of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, Hang ‘Em High, High Plains Drifter). His character became known to audiences as “the man with no name.” Clint Eastwood became the iconic lone stranger who shows up out of nowhere and becomes justice incarnate.
The lone stranger who shows up out of nowhere and brings justice on the gang of bad guys is a popular archetype in our stories and film. We see it in our classic heroes like The Lone Ranger and our comic book heroes like The Dark Knight. Clint Eastwood would continue to embody that archetype, updated for the “modern West” in his Dirty Harry movies of the 1970s. Akira Kurosawa used the archetype in an entire genre of Japanese Samurai movies (e.g. Yojimbo) which were sometimes translated into different American settings like the prohibition era story in Last Man Standing.
Writers and filmmakers use “archetype” characters and stories because they resonate deeply within us. We connect with them, and we love them. There seems to be something deeply woven spiritually and psychologically in our creation that connects to The Great Story God is telling in and through history. The psychologist Jung spent much of his career studying it.
This morning on my chapter-a-day journey I waded into the ancient historical book of 2 Kings which, of course, follows 1 Kings. So, we’re picking up a story in the middle of the telling. Kind of like starting the Star Wars saga with The Empire Strikes Back.
What’s fascinating about the story we read in today’s chapter is that from ancient days we have the archetype lone stranger come to life. The nation of Israel had been torn in two. The northern kingdom of Israel and its long string of evil kings and queens (Israel’s Queen Jezebel became the archetype of the evil queen a’ la Snow White) had become a cesspool of corruption, debauchery, and idolatry. The nation had abandoned faith in the one God of Abraham and Moses. They had given themselves to all sorts of local gods with their rituals of sex and violence. The king of Israel sends his messengers to one of the priests of one of these local gods to have his fortune told.
Then on the dusty road in the wilderness, the king’s messengers meet a lone drifter; A wild-looking man, a man with no name, who wore a coat made out of camel hair and a big leather belt. Elijah speaks God’s truth and when the corrupt king sends his hoard of bad guys to get the lone Elijah, justice strikes in the form of lightning from heaven.
All good stories are a reflection of The Great Story. Elijah, the original High Plains Drifter.
This morning I’m thinking about the archetype of the lone stranger. I think it resonates within us all for different reasons. There are times on life’s journey that I feel alone and preyed upon by systems and powerful people with no recourse. I long for someone, anyone to show up and make the wrong right. I also think there are times in life when I feel like I’m standing alone against the crowd. I’m desperately trying to do the right thing, but the odds (and seemingly everyone else) are hopelessly stacked against me.
I’m thankful in the quiet this morning for Elijah and the archetype of the lone stranger. It’s the archetype of Jesus, the stranger from heaven; The lone savior who single-handedly took on my sin, and the sin of the world. Jesus, who tells me, even when the bad guys are surrounding me and the odds are stacked against me, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
And some days, if my eyes, ears, heart, and spirit are open, I realize that I have the opportunity to be “the lone stranger” for someone else. As Jesus said, “As I have loved you, so you should love one another.”
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published October 16, 2014
The man of God said, “I cannot turn back and go with you, nor can I eat bread or drink water with you in this place. I have been told by the word of the Lord: ‘You must not eat bread or drink water there or return by the way you came.’”
The old prophet answered, “I too am a prophet, as you are. And an angel said to me by the word of the Lord: ‘Bring him back with you to your house so that he may eat bread and drink water.’” (But he was lying to him.) So the man of God returned with him and ate and drank in his house. 1 Kings 13:16-19 (NIV)
Along my journey I have been, from time to time, approached by individuals who proclaim to have some kind of “God told me” word or statement that pertains to me. I am not discounting the possibility that God could speak to me through another person, but I have learned over time to approach these situations with Jesus’ words in mind: “Be shrewd as serpents and gentle as doves.”
The man of God in today’s chapter had been given a clear directive by God. Along comes another prophet whose “God told me” statement contradicted the clear word he’d been given. His blind faith in the stranger had disastrous results. I don’t want to make a similar mistake, so when someone claims to have a word from God that affects me, there are a few simple guidelines I’ve learned to follow:
Consider the source. If approached by a stranger or a casual acquaintance whom I don’t know, I am going to be appropriately more cautious. If it comes from Wendy, one of the guys in my inner circle, or a fellow believer who knows me and whom I know and respect, then I’m immediately going to give it greater weight in my consideration.
Beware of contradictions. There are some things that I’ve learned about myself and believe wholeheartedly based on my own experiences and faith journey. I am supposed to be in Pella. I believe that God has a purpose for both me and Wendy here. If someone approached me today and said, “God told me that you are supposed to move to Timbuktu,” then I would be immediately, shrewdly suspect. This contradicts all of the sign posts and waypoints on my journey.
Seek wisdom. I have a strong circle of family and friends who are wise, who know me well, and whom I have given carte blanche permission to speak into my life. Before giving a stranger’s “God told me” statement any credence, I would run it by these people whom I trust. If I share the word given to me and their B.S. Meters start sounding an alarm, then I feel totally secure dismissing it.
Don’t worry. God will accomplish His purposes in me (consider Jonah). I am open and actively listening. I am continually asking, seeking, and knocking. If I’m supposed to move to Timbuktu then that’s where I’m going to end up. Just because a stranger tells me such doesn’t mean I need to obsess about it. Chill. Have faith. Follow. Press on one step at a time. The Lord will direct my steps.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published April 24, 2013
A troublemaker plants seeds of strife; gossip separates the best of friends. Proverbs 16:28 (NLT)
Over the years I have learned: Just as important as choosing good companions for the journey, it is equally important to avoid sharing life’s sojourn with “crazymakers.” Like the troublemaker in the proverb above, crazy makers plant seeds of strife wherever they go. They waste our time and suck us into the black hole of their neediness. They passive-aggressively pit people against one another and stir up dissension. In her book, The Artist’s Way, Julie Cameron nails it with her description of crazymakers:
Crazymakers break deals and destroy schedules. They show up two days early for your wedding and expect you to wait on them hand and foot. They rent a cabin bigger than the one agreed upon and expect you to foot the bill.
Crazymakers expect special treatment. They suffer a wide panopoly of mysterious ailments that require care and attention whenever you have a deadline looming.
Crazymakers discount your reality. No matter how important your deadline or how critical your work trajectory at the moment, crazymakers will violate your needs.
Crazymakers spend your time and money. If they borrow your car they return it late with an empty tank.
Crazymakers triangulate those they deal with. Because they thrive on energy (your energy), they set people against one another in order to maintain their own power position dead center.
Crazymakers are expert blamers. Nothing that goes wrong is ever their fault.
Crazymakers create dramas – but seldom where they belong. Whatever matters to you becomes trivialized into mere backdrop for the crazymaker’s personal plight.
Crazymakers hate schedules – except their own. If you claim a certain block of time as your own, your crazy maker will find a way to fight you for that time, to mysteriously need things (you) just when you need to be alone and focused on the task at hand.
Crazymakers hate order. Chaos serves their purposes. When you establish space that serves you for a project, they will abruptly invade that space with a project of their own.
Crazymakers deny that they are crazymakers. “I’m not what’s making you crazy,” they will say, “It’s just that … [add something else to blame].”
I have found that the path to increased levels of life, growth, and understanding is often the one path that leads us directly away from a crazymaker.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
After having our home filled with our entire brood last year, Wendy and I knew that this year was going to be a stark contrast since neither the Scottish crew nor the South Carolina crew, were going to be making it back to Iowa. Thus, we begin this holiday edition of The Latest with Halloween, which we had to enjoy vicariously from across the pond. Taylor gets the great mom merit badge for Milo’s awesome firefly costume.
Meanwhile, down across the Mason-Dixon line, Madison got into the festive spirit at work with her amazing Poison Ivy make-up design.
Late autumn felt a lot like late summer this year. The weather has been unseasonably warm. It’s Christmas Eve day as I type the draft of this post and the forecast high is 59 degrees. We have a trip to San Diego scheduled next week to enjoy some “warm” weather and escape the “frigid” Iowa winter. The forecast high while we’re in San Diego next week? 59 degrees. 🙄.
Meanwhile, Wendy and I stayed busy in November. I delivered a keynote address at the fall conference of the Iowa Communication Alliance. Wendy continues to keep me on track as the “Senior Director of All the Things” for Intelligentics while also helping to manage “all the things” for Selah Studios. I also continue to serve the teaching team at Third Church, and I preached three of the five Sundays in November. Wendy and I also enjoyed, once again, being a part of Pella’s annual Tulip Queen Announcement Party again this year. Wendy is serving a multi-year stint on the committee and acts as the Director of the evening program. I was Master of Ceremonies again this year.
The 2022 Pella Tulip Queen Candidates
Wendy and I continue to feel honored to help her Grandma Vander Hart, who turned 94 this year and continues to live independently in her apartment. Wendy and I check in with her regularly and make sure she has what she needs. Some days we get to read the daily devotional for her, along with running errands and helping with odd tasks around her apartment.
Grandma Vander Hart joined us for Thanksgiving at our house, along with my parents, who drove down from Des Moines. It was a relatively quiet affair compared to some years, but we loved hosting these three. We had a traditional Thanksgiving meal with turkey, potatoes, stuffing, and gravy. The afternoon was spent lounging and chatting.
We were also honored this fall to play host for a long-standing family rivalry. My nephew, Sam, grew up a Green Bay Packers fan. Misguided as that is, he mustered the wisdom to marry a Vikings fan which only fueled the friendly rivalry we’ve enjoyed his entire life. Sam brought his family, and our niece Emma, down to Pella for George’s pizza and the Packers-Vikings game. Vikings won this time, which was a rare treat the way things have gone in recent years.
Our place at the lake tends to sit empty from November through March, but this year my friend Matthew and I headed south for a personal retreat over a long weekend in early December. The weather was amazing with temps in the 70s and 80s. It was 75 degrees one evening as I grilled some steaks on the deck, where we were also blessed to enjoy lunch a couple of the days.
Our grandson, Milo, celebrated his 4th birthday in early December, and we had to celebrate via FaceTime. What we weren’t expecting was the present that Milo had for us. He donned his “Big Brother” t-shirt to announce the pending arrival of another grandchild next summer!
We also got to celebrate the 2nd birthday of our niece, Anya in December with a birthday party at her house. It also gave us the opportunity to hang with our newest nephew, Owen.
Last year at Christmas we held the inaugural family Christmas Cocktail Contest. The kids wanted to make it a tradition, but we had to do it this year via video call across three weekends. Not as fun as being in person, but we certainly had had fun connecting online and sharing a drink and a chat together.
Christmas without the kids in town ended up being a fairly low-key affair. With the unexpected passing of our dear friend, Shay’s, mother, Wendy and I spent Christmas Eve visiting the VLs who had driven through the previous night to return from a Christmas ski vacation. We then walked home (did I mention it’s unseasonably warm this year?) where “ma in her kerchief and I in my cap” both settled in early for “a long winter’s nap.”
Having headed to bed early, I was awake for the “night watch” and enjoyed praying, reading, and some extended quiet time in the darkness before dawn until Wendy rose for the day. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and opened gifts between the two of us. We even snuck in a FaceTime call with Milo to let him show us his Christmas haul as we were getting ready for the day.
Wendy and I hosted anyone from our families who wanted to come for a charcuterie spread on Christmas Day. The guests began to arrive late morning. Covid worries and seasonal viruses prompted some last-minute cancellations, but we had a wonderful constellation of loved ones including Wendy’s sister and her family from Denver, my brother from Boise, our parents, and Grandma VH. After eating, there was the sharing of gifts. My dad and sister made a stained-glass Santa ornament for us. My mother’s favorite color is purple, so Wendy and I gave her the most purple robe we could find along with matching slippers. About mid-afternoon, the entire VL crew walked over to join the festivities. Amidst the din of Christmas revelry, we enjoyed a Zoom chat with Madison, Tay, and Clay.
Wendy’s Christmas Charcuterie Spread
By evening, all guests had departed. Wendy and I cleaned up and then had a quick FaceTime call with our friends Kev and Beck to open their gifts to us which were still under the tree. After that, we settled in on the couch to watch the Guy Pearce – FX interpretation of A Christmas Carol (it’s amazing, trust us). Other than an emergency V-Dub Pub to-go order, we enjoyed a quiet evening before retiring together with our hearts, heads, and tummies full.
Today, we head to Ankeny for Christmas with the Hall Clan.
Each photo below corresponds to the chapter-a-day post for the book of Lamentations published by Tom Vander Well in December of 2021. Click on the photo linked to each chapter to read the post.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published January 8, 2014
May the Lord cause you to flourish, both you and your children. May you be blessed by the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 115:14-15 (NIV)
Sometimes when reading through the morning’s chapter I am struck by a thought that does not seem particularly profound or life changing. In many cases, the blog post I eventually write will explore something else I found in the chapter that is a bit meatier to the spiritual bones. That little random thought which flitted off the page will be kept to myself.
Like almost everyone else, I have been mulling over in my mind what 2013 has been, and what I want 2014 to be. Whenever you look forward and attempt to see what the future holds you inevitably face the uncertainty which accompanies such musings. As a student of history I know that even the most faithful are sometimes faced with dark and unpredictable paths. Even Jesus said that the road which leads to life is path few find, and the way is narrow and difficult. We do not know for certain where the road into 2014 will lead.
And so, with such rumination churning in my heat and brain, I came upon the verses above from today’s psalm. The intentional speaking a blessing is an ancient tradition which our culture has largely forgotten. This morning I felt myself standing on life’s road staring ahead, and a song writer from 2000 years ago reached out of the depths of time on the wind of Holy Spirit to whisper a blessing into my soul. Thanks. I needed that. Maybe you do to, and so let me pass along this blessing to you and yours:
May the Lord cause you to flourish, both you and your children. May you be blessed by the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
Merry Christmas 2021
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
Originally published September 30, 2013
My lover has gone down to his garden, to his spice beds, to browse in the gardens and gather the lilies. I am my lover’s, and my lover is mine. He browses among the lilies. Song of Solomon 6:2-3 (NLT)
A few years ago Wendy and I were at the Des Moines Art Center browsing through the Center’s collection. We came across a painting by Georgia O’Keefe. “Oh my goodness,” Wendy softly exclaimed by side. “There’s no mistaking what that’s about!” O’Keefe is sometimes referred to as the mother of American modernism. She was particularly fond of painting enlarged flower blossoms, presenting them close up as if you are viewing just a part of the blossom through a magnifying glass. She often used lilies and sections of lilies.
O’Keefe came to prominence as a painter in the early part of the 20th century about the same time that Freud’s theories on psycho analysis rocked the world. Perhaps it was inevitable that O’Keefe’s paintings would be psychoanalyzed under the magnifying glass of Freudian thought just as she painted magnified views of her subjects. Despite the artists own denials, it has long been noted that her paintings seem to conjure up parallels to female sexual anatomy. Thus, Wendy’s soft exclamation upon viewing O’Keefe’s painting.
Lilies, in particular, have always had strong metaphorical parallels to sexuality dating back to ancient times. Roman and Greek mythology viewed the lily as a flower of purity, chastity and innocence. Even church tradition associates lilies with Mary, the mother of Jesus. Roman tradition was that Venus, the goddess of love, was so envious of the pure beauty of the lily that she gave the lily it’s large, long pistil in it’s center to make it less attractive. The pistil at the center of the lily’s flower has long been noted for its’ phallic metaphors; The center of the pure, white petals of the Calla Lilly being seemingly penetrated by the long, large pistil.
It is no wonder that Solomon’s ancient song of the budding, erotic love between the young king and the young woman of his harem would include imagery of the lilies. Solomon himself wrote, “there is nothing new under the sun.” Georgia O’Keefe did not invent the parallel between the lily and a woman’s sexual organs. If anything, her art was natural prey for metaphorical connections humans have made between the lily and sexuality for thousands of years.
Now, read the verse above once more and imagine an infatuated young woman saying these words as she fantasizes about the man whom she wants to marry and become her lover. Does Solomon’s song really intend these sexual metaphors? A hormonal young man writes a song about the sexual tension between himself and a gorgeous young woman whom he desires sexually. It doesn’t take a giant leap of reason.
God created us male and female. He created us as sexual beings with hormones and sexual desires. He created a natural order in which people grow, develop, desire one another and have sexual relations through which new life is created. He called it “good.” Too often in a pursuit of purifying the ranks from the sinful excesses with which many indulge our natural appetites, the institutional church has thrown the baby out with the bath water. Many of us have forgotten to embrace, celebrate, and appreciate the natural God-given appetite which, when experienced as God intended, remains as pure as a lily.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Note: I’m on a holiday hiatus through January 9, 2022. While I’m away, I thought it would be fun to reblog the top 15 chapter-a-day posts (according to number of views) from the past 15 years. Cheers!
One of the things that I love about the Song of Solomon is the way the relational give and take develops between the young man and the young woman in the duet. Like all relationships, there is a progression of the relationship from the beginning of the song to the end. There is the initial infatuation with one another as they look upon one another and are impressed with what they see. Then there is the growing desire for one another as they seek to be in one another’s presence. In today’s chapter we feel the growing desire and anticipation of sexual intimacy.
The young woman is having another dream, and this time she hears the young man attempting to unlatch the door of her bedroom. Her heart is thrilled (and, I suspect, other parts of her as well). When she gets up to let him in, she finds him gone. Disappointed, she runs through the streets in a frantic search for him. The night watchmen find her and beat her up. You can see in the dream the anticipation of intimacy, the disappointment that it has not happened, and the intense feelings of personal pain and injury that she has not been able to consummate her love.
I have learned over time that sexual intimacy in marriage is best built with anticipation, just like the progression in Solomon’s song. While sex occasionally occurs at the spur of the moment, motivated by a surprisingly sudden surge of hormones, the truth is that there is typically a subtle song and dance that happens between me and Wendy. A glance and casual touch at the breakfast table hints at the possibility that this day may come to a passionate end. Hints are dropped by the wearing of things that the other has commented pleases his or her eye. A dab of cologne on a day that none is typically warranted. There is the casual touch in public that lingers a moment longer than usual. The mind is engaged. The eyes are engaged. The sense of smell is stimulated. The ears hear coded messages: “I shaved my legs today.”
Playful thoughts flitter in and out of each other’s minds during the day. Anticipation builds. A regular evening dinner takes on new layers of sensual meaning as each become aware of what I mentioned in yesterday’s post: There is a connection between senses. The feeding of one appetite will invariably lead to another. The main course tastes so good. The wine seems downright decadent, and savoring the dessert feels almost sinful.
One of the things that Solomon’s song subtly conveys to me is that the climactic, sexually intimate event of the day does not typically just happen. It happens when husband and wife learn and know one another’s subtle, sensory dance. It is me learning how to slowly feed multiple senses of my wife during the day in the ways she best responds. It is my wife learning just how to tease the deliberate build up of anticipation that will lead to a successful, intimate feast after dinner that night. There is an art to the intimacy between husband and wife that takes on the unique characteristics of the two artists involved in creating the intimate moment.
In contrast, I find that popular media (especially pornography) likes to portray sex like it’s most awesome when easily cranked out like one of those ultra high-speed photocopiers at Kinko’s (yes, pun intended): Get it fast. Get it often. Get it easy. Everyone gets a copy. Sure, you get the picture – but it’s monochrome, impersonal, and unoriginal. Each one is just like the one before. It quickly becomes meaningless and lifeless. You crank out more copies hoping for something different in the output picture, but it will never be an original work of art.
My experience is that sexual intimacy does not become a breathtaking original work of art unless there are two people learning to create something together over time, learning to work together, make mistakes, erase errors, try something new, explore, play, complement one another’s individual style, and develop their own unique style as a couple over time together. As Solomon’s Song suggests, there is a progression. It gets better, deeper, more refined, and even more powerful in ways neither husband nor wife could scarcely imagine, even in the intoxicating infatuation of the early relationship.
Sexual intimacy between husband and wife is a work of art.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Wayfarer 