There are some words that are only understood in a dictionary sense until something drastic happens.
Humility is "a modest estimation of one's own importance, rank, etc.", the dictionary says. But more than that, it's an experience, and a powerful one at that. A raw one. Humility is empowering. Humility means being unselfish to the point of sacrificing what we, ourselves want to fill the needs of others. Humility is the feeling you get when you stand beside the Grand Canyon and begin to fathom its enormity. Humility is the feeling you get when you recognize the sheer magnitude of the atonement of Jesus Christ, and how very much you need it. Humility is a huge feeling and a huge experience, and it's raw and it's real and it ultimately can't be faked.
Love is not what they say it is. Love is not just butterflies in the tummy. And love isn't just between romantic partners either. These are all love.
Even this is love:
It's said too often, but love is an action word. If you love someone or something, you dedicate yourself to them. You sacrifice for them. You put them above yourself, especially when it's uncomfortable or even painful. Their happiness matters to you, even if it comes at the expense of your own convenience. Love is dedication. Love is an exceedingly difficult thing to live, because humans are self-interested by nature, and love is choosing to become almost completely non-self-interested. No, love has very, very little to do with butterflies.
Hope is a driving force. It's not just the belief that things will get better, or an attitude that is optimistic in the face of even insurmountable odds. Hope is what fills you when you get back up after you've been knocked down for the umpteenth time. You have a hope in something that you don't have yet. When I think of hope, I think of grit. Sometimes it's bloody knees, gravel stuck in your palms, weak muscles, puffy eyes barely holding back tears, but it's always determined. It's pressing forward. It doesn't mean you're always happy, and it doesn't mean that you always know exactly how things are going to work out, or that you're never scared, because if you're never scared you're not human. It's what makes you go when you're at your limit. It's what makes you go when the next step, and the next, and all the next steps after that for a long time, are drudgery. It's a belief. It's faith. It's psychological strength.
Remember to look deeper at the words society throws around like they belong in the same category as butterflies and rainbows. These are gritty and raw and real. These are strength.
Humility is "a modest estimation of one's own importance, rank, etc.", the dictionary says. But more than that, it's an experience, and a powerful one at that. A raw one. Humility is empowering. Humility means being unselfish to the point of sacrificing what we, ourselves want to fill the needs of others. Humility is the feeling you get when you stand beside the Grand Canyon and begin to fathom its enormity. Humility is the feeling you get when you recognize the sheer magnitude of the atonement of Jesus Christ, and how very much you need it. Humility is a huge feeling and a huge experience, and it's raw and it's real and it ultimately can't be faked.
Love is not what they say it is. Love is not just butterflies in the tummy. And love isn't just between romantic partners either. These are all love.
Even this is love:
It's said too often, but love is an action word. If you love someone or something, you dedicate yourself to them. You sacrifice for them. You put them above yourself, especially when it's uncomfortable or even painful. Their happiness matters to you, even if it comes at the expense of your own convenience. Love is dedication. Love is an exceedingly difficult thing to live, because humans are self-interested by nature, and love is choosing to become almost completely non-self-interested. No, love has very, very little to do with butterflies.
Hope is a driving force. It's not just the belief that things will get better, or an attitude that is optimistic in the face of even insurmountable odds. Hope is what fills you when you get back up after you've been knocked down for the umpteenth time. You have a hope in something that you don't have yet. When I think of hope, I think of grit. Sometimes it's bloody knees, gravel stuck in your palms, weak muscles, puffy eyes barely holding back tears, but it's always determined. It's pressing forward. It doesn't mean you're always happy, and it doesn't mean that you always know exactly how things are going to work out, or that you're never scared, because if you're never scared you're not human. It's what makes you go when you're at your limit. It's what makes you go when the next step, and the next, and all the next steps after that for a long time, are drudgery. It's a belief. It's faith. It's psychological strength.
Remember to look deeper at the words society throws around like they belong in the same category as butterflies and rainbows. These are gritty and raw and real. These are strength.
"Love has very, very little to do with butterflies" I love it!
ReplyDeleteIsn't it true though?! In my thought adventures concerning butterflies (and, to be frank, my experience), I have come to the conclusion that butterflies can actually get in the way of real love.
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