Friday, January 21, 2011


Today was a day for the Piano Concerto #1 in Bb minor. It is a lovely piece, and I think I noted for the first time how much the second movement is a flirtation between the winds and the piano. They circle each other, shy, then coy, then playful, then dancing, until they fall in love and hold that chord until the end of the movement.

I also came across an unsent old letter to my wife (I think it was from 2004). It caused me to reflect on 1) how bad of a writer I am, and 2) how grateful I am to God for his grace in giving me my wife, because it was really a pretty selfish letter. Therein, I wrote of my missing her (she was away), my frustrations at work, and how I was sad that she hadn't written in a few days (probably only one). Love letters are rightly used to express longing, self-disclosure, and desire for communication, but I had twisted all three, sinful man that I am, until they were entirely self-serving.

Thinking about the Bible as God's open letter to His people, all three elements are there, and more. God wants to be in relationship with us (marvelous grace). He tells us about Himself (but of glory and majesty and mercy, not petty venting), He tells us to call on Him early and often, and (thankfully I have not had to write this) He warns us off of other guys (quit running around with idols of the heart!). But it is at once not self-serving and completely for His glory. It is uniformly for our good, if we are truly His beloved (but woe to us if we coquette with God!). And God makes His glory, grace, power, justice, etc. known through His dealings with man.

Turns out Vick and I each read Perelandra over the break, and both actually read all the poetry at the end. She quoted a section that seems to apply here, about how wonderfully superfluous we are, which was one of the best stanzas of that song. God is not made more by loving us, and He has no need that we should love Him. But if such a God has made us, we have every need of His love! It is, after all, our only comfort in life and death.

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