Confession: I'm a love junkie. I'm unashamedly addicted to loving as fiercely and fully as possible.
"You there! Hi, nice to meet you. Let's fall in love." That's what its like for me. That's what my brain and heart and soul play on repeat.
Why? If you ask me in person I'd talk in breathless circles about it, getting more excited and making less sense by the second. Luckily, though, I have the benefit of the written word here and I plan to make the most of it.
At the beginning and end of it is God. I'm sure a lot of you can list off the many, many times the bible mentions love: we love because He loves us; the greatest of these is love; love others as you love yourself; love is the fulfillment of the law; above all else love each other deeply; and, of course, God is love. What else do I need to say for all of us that believe the bible as the Word of God? Boom. Done.
Beyond that, more personally, is that God healed me by loving me. When I couldn't, or wouldn't, hear Him, He filled every corner of my life with His undeniable love for me in the form of friends and K. The friends abounded, one after the other of the most inspiring, beautiful, encouraging people this whole world has to offer. They spent time sitting with me in darkness, walking slowly into the light of what was true. These friends showed me love that was renewing down to the marrow of my tired bones. With K, it was a lesson of enduring love, as he showed patience, kindness, and forgiveness. He embraced the good ways I was changing and held firm against the bad, guarding our marriage with the true love and heart of a husband.
Truthfully, I had been reluctant, at the very first, to accept love but before I knew it I was seeking it out, soaking it in, and throwing it around by the handfuls. As my heart healed by love so I became ridiculously compelled to help heal the hearts of others. I learned quickly that there is no end to love and no need to be stingy with it. Guys, love never runs out. I find the more I give, the more I somehow have. The whole world blossoms under love, people are worthy of love just for existing, and they are willing to love you the same way you love them.
There need be no fear of love, no earning of love, no rationing. Love, quite literally, doesn't work that way.
I call it my Love Revolution and I'm on a mission to recruit as many people as possible.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
“” Kahlil Gabrin
I'm terrible at recalling dates. I can't even be counted on to get my wedding anniversary right on the first try so it comes to me as no surprise that I can't remember exactly when I stopped fighting against sorrow. All I know is that it was a conscious effort to call sorrow 'friend' and see where it took me.
What I've found is that sorrow, however painful, has given me so much in the way of life. Sorrow has made me more gentle. Sorrow has opened my eyes to the suffering of those around me. It taught me to listen first and judge last, if ever. I learned to look at, less and less, the actions of a person, and more and more what those actions say about what's going on in the deep places we can't see.
Sorrow made me capable of joining others in their own suffering without tiring of the mess we find there. I can sit with anyone in the trash heap, never mind the smell, and tell them all the ways they are still beautiful. I can hold their hand, or their head, or their entire body, for as long as they need and give them all the comfort I've got to offer. I can love them when they are covered in grime and convinced they aren't worthy of much.
Sorrow has even led me to real, healing joy. I'm convinced that they work hand in hand, actually. The moments when sorrow ebbs there is joy ready to burst forth, ever more vibrant for having had to wait its turn. As sorrow is the weight of my soul that makes me stop and take notice of the world, joy is the healing salve that lightens the bruises sorrow leaves, putting into perspective the deep and dark shades of pain.
I love more because I know sorrow. I forgive more because I know sorrow. I am more because I know sorrow.