The past month has been a whirlwind. In the rush of a busy schedule, I found myself slipping into an old and familiar pattern. I deserted my intentional time with God. Yet, in His infinite patience, He continued to wait for me, quietly covering my life with blessings even when I wasn't looking for them.
It brings to mind the sobering words of Revelation 2:4-5:
Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.
This scripture poses a challenging question: What does "the love you had at first" actually look like? Passionate love, I think. And how do we find our way back to it once we've drifted?
Quiet Love
This year, the transition into the New Year felt different. Usually, our nights are dominated by the chaotic roar of random fireworks, disturbing the peace for days on end. This year, while not silent, there was a noticeable decrease in the number of explosions. The air was clearer, with less smoke and fewer random booms than in years past.
I would like to think that the tragedy of last year (the loss of so many lives and the devastating injuries that shook our community) finally jarred our thinking and actions. There seemed to be a collective realization: "not my family, not my community." That relative quiet spoke of love to me. We chose the safety of our loved ones over the momentary thrill of excitement.
This change reminds us that without single, individual efforts and a shared commitment, the community does not exist. It is the sum of our personal choices that creates the environment we all share. It taught me that sometimes the most passionate love is found in the discipline of restraint.
The Love in the Decibels
On the other end of the spectrum, last night I attended the University of Hawaiʻi Men's Volleyball season opener. The atmosphere was the polar opposite of my New Year's experience. From the first step onto the court until the final match point, the arena was filled with a roaring, unrelenting support.
This was "love in decibels." It was a community pouring its energy and voice into a group of students, holding nothing back. It was exuberant, visible, and unwavering. Here, too, we experienced the power of the collective. The roar was only possible because many individuals in the stands chose to show up and raise their voices.
A Call to Return
These two experiences, the restraint of the community and the roar of the crowd, reflect the different facets of our relationship with our Creator.
Passion is Presence: It is the roar of the crowd, the "first love" energy where we are unashamedly excited to be in God's presence.
Passion is Protection: It is the discipline of the New Year, the choice to set aside our own desires to honor what is sacred and safe for those around us.
So, where do we fall short? I know where I do. I allow the "busy-ness" of life to act as a thief, stealing the passion I once had. I conform to the rhythm of the world rather than the will of the Creator.
Maintaining passionate love requires a constant repentance. This is not just a turning away from sin, but a turning toward the things we did at first. It is the daily decision to show up, to listen in the quieter moments, and to cheer in the spirit.
As we move further into this year, may we ask ourselves: Who am I to carry on as I conform to His will? We are the beloved, invited back into a love that is both as steady as a protected community and as loud as a stadium's roar.
