I’m one of those people who feels compelled to finish every book I start whether it’s worth the time invested or not. The one I’m reading now? Not.
The characters are great; I’d like to be their friends. The romance is a new blend of tried and true plot lines, the kind I read over and over and still enjoy. However, about a 150 (ebook) pages in the plot bogs down. Each place I go with the characters, our journey, seems contrived simply to have a new setting for wallowing in the flesh. My finger flicks the screen past these scenes, pauses for reading, flicks again, etc.
You get the idea.
Yet I keep reading, and today I find myself contemplating the language of romance, the concepts that captivate and keep me turning those pages. Like the proverbial light bulb above my head I see that most of life’s loves are somewhat like my current 2-Star read. Loving relationships move forward, sometimes giving and gracious both blessed and beautiful, sometimes self-serving and lost in eddies of the stream that go no where and collect trash.
Yet, the language of love holds hope. The heroine speaks of coming into those strong “well-muscled” arms and being overcome with a feeling of home. She completes him. Fills an emptiness either she’s always longed for or perhaps he didn’t even know existed within. Inside they are changed. Their every action hinges on this love relationship.
If you are a fan of romance or have much exposure or not, you know these themes. Last week my husband and I watched several of them play out in the movie Warm Bodies (first released as an indie book BTW) between a teen zombie and the girl who at a glance gave him The Reason to change who he used to be. Music, film, literature, art forms of every sort–you’ve seen it.
Yesterday, though, I saw it in a new way at my Aunt Moonyean’s memorial. Sure I’ve often contemplated how Jesus is my true love, my knight in shining armor, beautiful savior who fills every empty place I allow him in, who completes me, loves me no matter what, loves with everlasting love, and is faithful. Like all of us, my aunt experienced human love that soared, dipped, hurt, stayed or was lost, rarely faithful, but always worthwhile, a precious gift. She was a beauty, feisty, and ever the romantic. Her home smelled of exotic scents, displayed colors, lace, her collection of angels and bookshelves stacked with romance novels. The journey, the hope, the truth behind those earthly depictions dimly reflects the Greatest Story Ever Told.
February 14, 2013, her True Love came, gathered her in his strong arms, and took her home forever. Her Valentine delivered her from sickness and wiped away her tears. He completed and perfected the work He began and took her on the never-ending adventure. She touched the face of Love, knew Beauty and entered everlasting ecstasy. The Romance that never has to end as chapter after chapter captivates and moves forward.
Not a boring aside or misplaced word.
Unspeakable Joy on The Journey.
Love’s Home is not a place to stay.
It is a Person who never leaves nor forsakes.