Dangerous Beauty.

I recently finished reading a really odd, really creative, really hard book.

It's called delirium. 

It's about a society that outlaws love. Emotion is considered a disease. In order to fight the disease, the government initiates a program. At the age of 18, men and women undergo a "cure", which equates to brain surgery. 

When the procedure is complete, adults are left void of emotion. void of all feeling. No hope. No despair. No pain. No love. 

love brings death, they believe. 

In order to avoid pain, they take away the good. 

I closed the book, and just sat on it for a while. 

I tried to imagine never feeling pain. Never feeling sick to my stomach, never feeling hurt, never feeling betrayed. Never feeling shame or disappointment or worry. 

and that sounds really, really good. 

but then I tried to imagine never knowing love. Never swelling with pride when the baby crawls for the first time. Never being overwhelmed with thankfulness for my best friend. Never having passionate discussions about deep truths with my second family. 

... and the outcome was obvious. the hard, painful, scary parts of our stories: they're worth it. 

We need hard stories.

After I read this book, I started to weave through my own testimony. started rummaging through my own moments of darkness, the places and people and moments I'd rather forget. and I started to match and mirror each of those with the redeeming, perfect love of my Father. I waded through the years of Jesus capturing my heart, speaking truth and hope into my heart. The themes of my life shout divine authority and protection. 

Slowly, the story began to take shape. The darkness faded. The tears are replaced with a small smile and a breath of relief. 

I love hearing people's stories. I always have. and every single one has included darkness. despair. pain. But it's never the darkness that stays with them. with me. It's the hope- the beauty that rings so loud in the midst of hurt. 

Here's what I believe: We know light because of darkness. Without the messy and uncomfortable, we don't know deep, true beauty. 

We like to shy away from discomfort. But I believe there's much joy and hope and peace to be had in the discomfort. Some stories aren't meant for teddy bears and rainbows and lollipops. Some stories should leave you unsettled. 

I'm humbled and grateful that I serve a God who turns ashes into beauty. He takes the messy and molds it into exactly what He knows is best. He loves us. 

If you are in a dark season, take heart. There are moments of darkness in the most beautiful stories. 

Still don't believe me?

Take a moment to rest in the perfect redemption story :: the gritty and blood stained cross. the sword piercing His flesh. the ripping of the veil. 

Maybe then you'll see that stories are meant to be dangerous. 

It's what makes them beautiful. 

Love to you, 

Lyss