Little Epistle: Perhaps Love

Posted by: Duane Hiatt in Commentaries Add comments

Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm
It exists to give you comfort, it is there to keep you warm
And in those times of trouble when you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home

Perhaps Love, John Denver wrote in this lovely song. So many songs have boldly declared what love is and what it is not, it’s refreshing to have this tender suggestion.

Is there any word in the English language more misused, confused, and abused than the word “Love?”

Is it a noun? Is it a verb? Is it both, and more.

Is it in the body or the soul, the mind, the heart or all?

Can love be categorized as the ancient scholars said into eros, romantic love: philos, brotherly love; and agape; Godly love, the love that loves even its enemies?

This is less poetic than John Denver, but perhaps love is like electricity. We don’t know what it is, but we know some of the things it can do; including miracles.

Abraham Lincoln had inscribed inside his wife Mary’s wedding ring, “Love is eternal.”

That I can relate to. True love never dies. My father told me years ago, “You know something. When your mother gets herself dolled up, she is really a looker.” He wasn’t joking or even being kind. In his eyes she was gorgeous, because of, not in spite of the 60 plus years they had lived together as husband and wife.

I testify of the same experience.

Perhaps that is the answer to John Denver’s wistful wondering. In true love there is no “perhaps.”

Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm
It exists to give you comfort, it is there to keep you warm
And in those times of trouble when you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home

Perhaps Love, John Denver wrote in this lovely song. So many songs have boldly declared what love is and what it is not, it’s refreshing to have this tender suggestion.

Is there any word in the English language more misused, confused, and abused than the word “Love?”

Is it a noun? Is it a verb? Is it both, and more.

Is it in the body or the soul, the mind, the heart or all?

Can love be categorized as the ancient scholars said into eros, romantic love: philos, brotherly love; and agape; Godly love, the love that loves even its enemies?

This is less poetic than John Denver, but perhaps love is like electricity. We don’t know what it is, but we know some of the things it can do; including miracles.

Abraham Lincoln had inscribed inside his wife Mary’s wedding ring, “Love is eternal.”

That I can relate to. True love never dies. My father told me years ago, “You know something. When your mother gets herself dolled up, she is really a looker.” He wasn’t joking or even being kind. In his eyes she was gorgeous, because of, not in spite of the 60 plus years they had lived together as husband and wife.

I testify of the same experience.

Perhaps that is the answer to John Denver’s wistful wondering. In true love there is no “perhaps.”

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