Hopeless Romantic

The Lord has really been dealing with me about my hopeless romanticism. "Hopeless" being the operative word. (Then hubby and I talked about it...And to top it off, this morning I got up and turned on the TV and I'm clicking through the TV...and there is someone scheduled to be on intervention, the addiction show, and what words does he use? Hopeless Romantic. Our Lord, the God of perfect timing!)

Growing up a wussy little black kid I read a lot of sad poetry that promoted the futility of life. Okay, some of this poetry might have been affected. . . but many of these poets truly had crappy lives. And some of the Christian poets, such as Christina Rossetti, Emily Dickinson, and Gerard Manley Hopkins seemed never to have won in their battle against despair, melancholy, bi-polarism, illness, idolatrous worship of the creature more than the Creator, etc. In short, they died unhealed, leaving me with a kind of idea of Jesus as the "pale Galilean" who was romantic simply because he lost.

This kind of thing is dangerous because it not only teaches one not to hope, it primes the soul to believe that in the long run the prayer will not be answered, all is impossible, and God will not win. The Lord has been telling me to work on this spiritual stronghold. The stronghold of romantic despair that I indoctrinated myself with when I was a kid.

Another indoctrination I have to work against is the "romantic" part of the "hopeless romantic" phrase. That's one of the reasons I dislike Christian fiction. There is that kind of sentimental attachment to romance. Oftentimes one reads a story and one feels as if the story is really a woman's masturbatory dream of what a perfect hero in her life would've been. It's a kind of noble Christian fantasy of the land, the perfect man, the sense of destiny.

I feel God is very understanding of all this but he doesn't want us to indulge in vain imaginations. One must remember the truest book, the truest mirror, the truest romance, the truest imagination is of spiritual things.

I'll be posting some of my favorite poets in the upcoming days. You'll see what I have to battle against.

I dreamed I arrived in Japan and was walking around and got lost in a forest. I decided it was best to turn back on the route i came which I did. I then saw a large crucifix on the path when I finally arrived. Later, in another dream I dreamed I had a Chinese old lady neighbor. She said, "Show me where the borders of my property is." I said, "Sometimes there's a border you can see. Like this cement border. Sometimes it's a little subtler to figure out."I think this has to do with an obsession that I've been encouraging lately. For some strange reason I've been noticing a few Asian men and I think God is saying to watch it. I think, anyway. Might be something
else. But God might be saying...watch the fascination so you don't trip up.

So I'm trying to remember the ancient landmarks, as Jeremiah said.