". . . Seems Somehow Sadly Gay"

New tulips just planted in front yard

At church a dear acquaintance saw me and asked if anything was wrong. 

How could anything be wrong in the "best church in the whole universe for my family at this time"? That’s what I declared in my last blog anyway. Besides, Northerners shiver under another snowstorm as Southerners shimmy outside in tee shirts and shorts. The Creator Florist has rushed spring joys, bursting front yard tulips vivid neon and backyard iris stems yellow and blue, while encouraging neighborhood dogwoods to pop white and pink blossoms 

World events of late invade my Deep Southern bliss. Flashes of earthquakes, tsunamis, and wars that are not just rumors, but an infectious plague of bubonic proportions.

“Are you okay, dear?” 

Pardon my antiquated lingo, but I concur with the reflection Bennett sang, “The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay.” AKA moody.

Amidst news flashes on collapsing Mediterranean regimes, did you know that Paris, indeed all of France for the past year has been on fire? The French government has tried in vain to muffle horrors of overturned autos burning, nationwide strikes, businesses vandalized. Twitter leaks this collective revolution to the world. C’est la vie! should be “C’est la guerre!”

Paris was sweeter when MBH and I visited one week in the nineties. We traipsed the city, dining at intimate cafes in the Latin Student quarters after awestruck day tours of soaring cathedrals and galleried museums.

At the Louvre museum, I marveled as a student painted his version of Mona Lisa’s smile while he sat beside the actual masterpiece! Compared to the massive David sculpture by Michelangelo or portraits by Renoir, Leonardo’s portrait is petite. Still tiny Lisa’s enigmatic smile draws millions to wonder. 

Why was she so content??

In the early 1500’s Mona Lisa’s world bustled with artistic and intellectual revival. Modern me, however, would have groaned in her world devoid of air conditioning, insect repellant, microwave ovens, and instant connectivity.

Lisa did not instantly learn of distant battles or tsunamis. Surely, she cringed over the sinful vendettas and plagues that darkened her Deep South European doorstep. Yet, from 1503 to 1507 one inspired artist brushed her smile for posterity.

Backyard Siberian Irises

Behind me sits an inspired book, the history of God’s people. It records the infectious vendettas of human self-centeredness. At the same time it reveals the glorious saving work of the Artistic Creator. He centered His love on us to save us for eternity. It is THIS NEWS I need to turn to for assurance . . . and a reason to smile.

"Whoever believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life."