John Keats, as you might well know, wrote the above lines at the end of his poem, "Ode on a Grecian Urn," a poem I've liked since I first encountered it.
I understand that, for many, definitions of truth and beauty may differ from mine. That doesn't mean truth isn't truth and, once you know it and it becomes beautiful to you, you are not able to turn your back on it--even if it really hurts. I can't choose darkness, even though it might seem easier, when I know light.
I know I'm being cryptic. It's just that kind of day.
Truth--real truth--is the ultimate beauty. I believe that much more than I believe some of the false definitions out there.
Are you beautiful? My answer, no matter who you are, is this: yes! Not because of who you are, but because of who God is.
You are loved. That is truth. It's beautiful--even when it hurts.
