Life’s Messiness

Life is messy right now. Maybe it has always been messy, and I’m just becoming more aware of it as each grain falls onto the sand dune at the bottom of the hourglass of life. But something tells me this is different. Life is indeed messy right now.

For my generation, this messiness isn’t just something we observe—we live within it. And because of that, we crave and need something deeper, more satisfying, more rooted, more grounded. More authentic. As Freddie Mercury kept telling us,

“Love’s such an old-fashioned word.”

Maybe what we crave is a deeper kind of love that we generally don’t communicate all that much. We use the word love to the dangerous point of losing its original intent—a covenant between each other.

We all know the feeling of that first time in a relationship when the person you’re head over heels for says, “I love you.” It’s a moment impossible to forget. Then, over time, that phrase just becomes a salutation at the end of a phone call. Don’t get me wrong—it’s still important to say it, but it doesn’t land the same way as the first time.

Why not? Why doesn’t it land the same way?

I suspect it has to do with the shift in meaning over time. The first time two people exchange “I love you,” it marks the beginning of something sacred—a covenant. A transformative moment in the relationship. In that instant, the relationship fundamentally changes.

The phrase “I love you” is powerful. It’s romantic. It’s a change agent. But it’s also fleeting. With each time it’s spoken, the word fades—not the covenant, not the connection, not the reminder of the covenant. Saying “I love you” shifts from being a covenantal declaration to just an expression of emotion.

Enduring Love

In a world that is messy, we crave declarations. We crave that lighthouse in our personal and intense storms—something that does not flicker, something that does not fade. We long for a voice that cuts through our own messiness, calling out:

“I am here. I am here.”

The most powerful phrase in our time right now isn’t “I love you.” It’s:

“I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a phrase that expresses love—but with a promise. A radical promise of security in a world where ghosting, leaving, and running away when things become inconvenient has become the norm. A radical promise of that old-fashioned word—love—in a world where “I’m lovin’ it” is used to sell French fries.

As I continue to reflect—on my own life, my failures, my fears, my talents—during this season of Lent, I find myself wondering:

Maybe that’s what this season is really about. Maybe Lent and Easter are not just about remembering, but re-learning the truth that has always been there. Maybe Jesus has been saying it all along:

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The covenant of that old-fashioned word—love.

Maybe tonight, we should look our loved ones in the eye and muster the courage, as Jesus did, to say:

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And in doing so, gift them with ourselves, our presence, our declaration in a world of messiness. Allow our words to sit there and rest between us.

For as Freddie Mercury continues:

“….And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night. And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.”