On the god of thunder and learning to love and lose

Hey friends!

Quick note: I spend a paragraph here talking about the most recent Marvel movie, Thor: Love and Thunder. I did my best to be vague and not spoil much, but as an extra precaution, the danger paragraph is enclosed in asterisks like ***this*** in case my Marvel-loving readers would rather just skip it. ;)

I tend to be very quick to love. I've also lost a fair number of love-filled relationships- people most special to us never seem to be able to stay in one place for very long, whether it's an address or circle of friends or life itself. They often enter onto your life's stage as an unknown background character, and then gradually they become woven enough into your life that a hole is left when they exit. This has happened numerous times in my sixteen years of life, and at times it can feel rather draining. It sometimes even makes me want to stop opening up and offering my heart so readily to people who step into my life. In this fallen world, things are bound to go wrong at some point. It can't be worth the tears, can it? I'm also a bit of a Marvel fan. I've followed each agent and Avenger on their journey of pain and joy and sacrifice and self-discovery. They all end up loving someone or something, even the reluctant ones, and then they generally lose -sometimes everything- as well. They cry and scream at The Universe for putting them through this, and we cry and scream at Marvel Studios for putting us through this alongside them. It can hurt us, too, when their families disappear and friends die in their arms -even though we all know that obviously, they aren't real people- but I think much of the beauty and draw of Marvel is that it does hurt- the characters and their bonds with each other are so authentic and imperfect and complex that we can't help but feel the pain of their losses. Marvel has taught me a lot about characters and storytelling. And frankly, watching these prodigies, supersoldiers, and mythological heroes repeatedly cry over their fallen friends on the battlefield has taught me a few things about love and grief as well. We love, we lose, we grieve, we remember, and we continue to form relationships with new people who present themselves. It's as if we're oblivious to the potential for loss.

***Earlier this summer I went to see Thor: Love and Thunder with my friend Aubri, and while it definitely isn't the best Marvel movie I've seen to date, I liked the way it pushed this theme to the forefront. After losing almost every friend or family member (sometimes repeatedly) over his time as an Avenger, Thor is tired of loving. He builds walls to keep people out of his heart and pretends that it isn't just making him feel empty. But then someone (re)enters his life whom he struggles to keep away. His efforts are in vain of course, as is revealed in a touchingly dramatic scene set on a magical Viking ship pulled by giant goats and surrounded by rainbows (it's one of the quirkier films in the saga, hehe). They're off to save the universe like old times, and everything seems perfect... until Thor receives some shattering information and realizes that this adventure won't be getting the happily-ever-after ending he wanted. Mighty battles are fought, much is sacrificed, and Thor loses again. But this time, somewhere in the losing he more fully realizes that the loving is oh, so worth the risk of loss. And in the midst of his grief, he actively chooses to love yet again despite the risk.*** C. S. Lewis writes in his book The Four Loves, "There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." If you love someone, whether it's a friend or a grandparent or a trickster-brother-turned-arch-nemesis, your life has a bit more color in it than it would if you didn't love that person. Your life also has a bit (or a boatload, depending on the circumstance) more potential for stress, anger, worry, and grief. I love a lot of people, so a whole lot could go wrong here. It can be quite scary to think about, actually. But hiding away where no relationship can hurt me isn't going to do any good. It might be safe, sure- but the safe routes in life are rarely the joy-bringing ones, you know?

We are called by our Creator to love one another as we love ourselves, to build community, to grow together. He never said any of this would be easy, but He did promise to never leave us. He places every connection and relationship into our lives for a purpose, perhaps to challenge, teach, or make life that much sweeter. It might hurt a lot at times. But if it hurts, it means it was worth something. -So keep loving, and losing, and loving again. Keep learning from the magic of story. Keep opening up your heart and trusting, hugging tight and letting go, laughing and crying. Don't be afraid to be tender and vulnerable- you'll end up with scars and stories and a greater trust in our Father who never leaves. When an absence is felt, treasure the gift of what once was. When new relationships are healing you, remember to stop and savor them. Loving is oh, so worth it.

-Alayna

P.S.- This blog hasn't been as active as I would've liked this summer, so I plan to have a few more posts up within the next month or so to make up for lost time. Stay tuned!