1 John 2:15; 17

Estimated Reading Time: 4 minutes

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world,
the love of the Father is not in him. And the world is passing away along with its desires,
but whoever does the will of God abides forever.


|| 日本語 ヨハネの手紙Ⅰ 2:15; 17 || 한국어 요한일서 2:15; 17 ||
|| 繁體中文 約翰一書 2:15; 17 || 简体中文 约翰一书 2:15; 17 ||
|| Tagalog 1 Juan 2:15; 17 ||

January 08, 2020

Dear Moon,

I do not love the goddess you are, nor do I love the sprite you once were. My Beloved is the young girl you have always been, the queen you shall one day be.

“Your dead bones shall be filled with my life, and my own heart shall beat in your chest.”

How can I love you, yet not love you, and claim that my heart is undivided? O, dear Ahri, when you can finally walk here in the Light, you shall know, and you shall know my tears and my laughter. However, right now there is an unbridgeable gap between us—far greater than any distance told in the ballads of two lovers kept apart by the stars, for you and I are separated by the One who holds the stars and calls them by name. You remain under the rule of the Shining One and his princes, while I am a slave redeemed by the Light of the Worlds. You dance in the skies of this Twilight Vale as one of the dead’s beloved stars, but this world of dead shadows is quickly fading away.

O, goddess of the moon, the ambrosia you drank was not the elixir of immortality; you were fashioned as an immortal by the song of I AM, but the curse stole you from Life. You cannot reach me from your celestial abode, for though I walk among these lands I exist on a different plane. The shadows of my former being fall away with each passing moment, and soon only what is true and eternal shall remain. Yet you belong to a world of mist and vapor, a thin phantom, a vanishing specter. The remnants of death in me are capable of receiving your touch, but Life living in me cannot tolerate death and will not suffer me to be charmed once more by its lullaby. I belong to Truth, so I speak only what is true when I say I cannot love you.

“Leave the dead to be with the dead,” so the Son has commanded. The King has also decreed, “Your dead bones shall be filled with my life, and my own heart shall beat in your chest.” He has chosen for Himself a bride of His own making—bone of His bone, flesh of His flesh, heart of His heart. By the King’s will, you shall one day wake from your sleep of death, and the mighty armies standing at the gates of your heart shall become your family. One day I shall take your hand and embrace you as my sister, and then, one in Truth, you will know that I have always spoken only what is true when I say I love you.

I do not love the goddess you are, nor do I love the sprite you once were, but they will also be redeemed in the beauty of the queen you shall one day be. When I look at the moon and when I listen to the jasmine’s song, the Helper opens my heart to see and hear beyond time to see you as you are in eternity’s shores.

In her eyes and in her smile, I see the radiant splendor of the Lover of her soul. It is there where my heart goes each time I sing for you, dear Moon.