Titles and Forgiveness

In the short story "The Paring Knife" by Michael Oppenheimer, the narrator always refers to his life partner as "the woman I love." I think he refrains from using the regular titles of 'wife' or 'girlfriend' or 'lover' because even though they are all socially acceptable, they are still slightly shaded with connotations of possession and objectification. There is no possessive or defining adjective, and all the vulnerability falls on his shoulders. She is simply the woman he loves. While cleaning under the refrigerator one day, he finds a small paring knife and remembers the story that goes with it: a serious fight, a frustrated swipe at the contents on the kitchen table, and their reconciliation.

"I was about to ask the woman I love if she remembered that incident when she came in from the next room and without saying a word, picked up the knife from the table and slid it back under the refrigerator."

The paring knife seems similar to an argument - relatively small, yet sharp enough to cut a relationship in half. However, it's been forgotten, collecting dust under the fridge instead of being used every day. When the woman that he loves slides the knife back to it's dark corner, she's telling him that only their reunion after the fight should be remembered. Perhaps love without titles or restraints results in the strong return of affection that eludes the grasp of love with restrictions.

Light

I wonder how many destinies aren't fulfilled from carrying a burden of failure, and conceding to a spirit of fear that holds trust and faith at a distance? Fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of being different, fear of loss...from Adam hiding from God in the garden, to Peter running after the cock crows, there are Biblical examples of fear displacing trust and faith - but we are told to 'fear not' and to believe that God is in control - whether living our dying, our destiny of being light in the midst of darkness will happen. Jesus doesn't tell his followers to become light, but that they are the light. He knew their stories, and He knows ours as well - our failures, fears, and pride that rise up in accusation, yet God must see us differently than we view ourselves because He sees light in us.
I want to have the strength of mind to resist fear, and to live honestly in the midst of deception, and joyfully in the midst of anxiety. This is the calling. Live the light in the midst of darkness.

St. James

In avoiding church lately, I know that I am running away from my Reformed upbringing, but where am I headed?

I found a sanctuary while I wait: Taize at St. James Cathedral. Below is a reflection I wrote after my first time there with Brie and Spiro...

Be Still

Architects guide eyes heavenward with vaulted ceilings,
while meditative silence gives birth to reflection.
Amidst inward questioning and doubt, an acapella voice descends
summoning antiphonal remembrance of common ground:
Sing out my soul and glorify the Lord who sets us free.
Then silence
followed by words that seep into wooden pews, and
the congregation stands united with saints centuries old
in Latin song:
Da pacem domina, da pacem O Christe in diebus nostris.
Grant us your peace O Lord, may it fill all our days.
Softly choir and congregation with deep organ
swell and declare that Jesus is the Christ.
Now and forever.
Amen.