Lost in Love

When I was a young man, there was a popular song that played on the radio titled “Lost in Love.” The opening lines of the song were:

“I realize the best part of love is the thinnest slice 

And it don't count for much

But I'm not letting go

I believe there's still much to believe in”

I was thinking about this song recently when I was listening to some men and women share their memories of the world when they were children. It was interesting to me how they spoke about the world they knew as if the world around them came straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Somehow they had forgotten that they were born between the Korean War and the Vietnam War. They forgot the turbulence of the late 50s and 60s. As they shared, there was no talk about the sudden need for women to join the workforce to provide for their families. No talk of the dangers of the sexual revolution and the dissolving family structure. No talk of the dramatic increase in drug abuse and alcoholism. They didn’t seem to even remember the political unrest of hiding under desks because we were practicing for nuclear destruction.

They only seemed to remember their little league games and afternoons at the park. Staying out until the street lights came on. Penny candies as well as buying a movie ticket, popcorn, and a soda for only one dollar. The reason that they didn’t remember the bad things of those days was because they were remembering their childhoods through the eyes of nostalgia. Nostalgia causes us to look at things through the lens of the words of the song above. We only see the thinnest slice of reality, we think only of the things we loved and we choose not to let go of them. 

I often wonder how the Children of Israel could say the words we read in the Book of Numbers:

Numbers 11:5-6 We remember the fish that we used to eat in Egypt, for free—the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic! But now we have no appetite. We never see anything but this manna.”

To provide a little background, the Children of Israel were in the wilderness and the very presence of G-D was visibly in the midst. Not only that, but they didn’t have to hunt or work for food because G-D was providing it to them every morning in the form of Manna. To add to this, there was no sickness and even their clothes didn’t wear out.

Yet, even with all of these blessings surrounding them, they looked back at Egypt through the eyes of nostalgia. Forgetting that they were in cruel slavery. Forgetting that their babies were being killed. They only remembered the food they had in Egypt. Just like my friends, I didn’t even seem to remember the dangers and difficulties of their childhoods, seeming only to remember the things that were enjoyable. Like the song lyrics above, they believe there is still so much to believe in. 

Listening to my friends talk, it made me think about many of the people that I know who have become believers in Yeshua (Jesus). But when the first problems arise, they begin to look back at their past life through the eyes of nostalgia. They forget all about the difficulties of life before the drugs, the depression, the loneliness, the broken relationships, etc. 

Just like the Children of Israel, it is so easy for those who have been born again (those who have been set free from the bondages of sin) to encounter some of life’s difficulties and forget all of the evil and misery of their “Egypt” because they become blinded by nostalgia and lost in love. They forget all of the pain of their slavery. In the same way, my friends forgot about all of the problems and issues of their youth. Because when we find ourselves standing in front of one of our life’s struggles, it is so easy to choose to put on our rose colored glasses which only allow us to see through the lens of nostalgia. The problem with nostalgia glasses is that while they blind us from seeing the horrible and problematic things from our past, they also prevent us from seeing G-D’s presence and blessings in our present time. They keep us from seeing the fullness of G-D’s promises in our future.