But tonight I realized that the most used/abused 4 letter word is not the one you would expect:
Love.
I don't know what it looks like here in this world of ours...all I know is it is more than most of what I see.
Love is not happy feelings and butterflies. Love is not that electrifying feeling you get when you kiss your significant other, or the warm safeness of holding their hand. It is not even wanting to be with someone every moment.
All of those things die. They do not last forever. They are fleeting and futile, if they are the goal. Because they are only shadows of the true thing, of real love.
I cannot paint a full portrait of it- this thing, this love. It sits just out of my reach, just beyond my line of sight. I can almost see it, almost grasp it, and then it eludes me.
Here is what I do know, what I can see:
Maybe love can never be fully defined, because it changes day by day, moment by moment. It is constantly re-evaluating and seeking what is the absolute best for the beloved. It is sacrificing. Constantly. Day in and day out. It is most assuredly more than that, but it can never be anything less. Don't cheapen it. Don't water it down so it can be sold for less- so it is easier to handle, to swallow, less painful, less terrifying. It is all of those and more.
Sometimes love means being there when you don't want to. Sometimes love means putting aside your hurt and pain and giving again to that person who has hurt you. Not expecting, not anticipating any kind of repayment down the road. Sometimes love means telling the hard truth. Love is discomfort. Love is willingly choosing to put someone else ahead of myself.
Sometimes love looks like holding them while they cry. Sometimes love looks like holding their hand, not having words, because there just aren't words that do justice to the pain in their hearts, and you don't know words to heal either. Sometimes love looks like whispering in their ear, when they have forgotten who they are, reminding them. Sometimes love looks like sitting in the ashes together when everything has fallen apart. Sometimes it is weeping, because they weep. Love means entering into the pain of another, engaging hard questions that you may not have the answers for-but staying anyway.
Sometimes love is holding on when all you wanna do is give up-when your hands are cramping, tears are rolling down your face, and your heart feels like it might physically be falling apart. Sometimes love is taking a breath, opening your white-knuckle fists, and letting go-because that is what is best for the beloved. Because what is best for them may not be you. Or because they are not, maybe were not ever, yours to hold. Love is not ownership. Nor is it a list of obligations to fulfill.
Love takes courage. Because to love is to die. To willingly give up my rights to better someone else. That's why it has to run both ways to be healthy in this world. Because it is bending, bowing to one another's needs above our own. Love in essence means giving up my rights. My rights to what I need, what I want, how I like things done. It means giving up my plans (and very possibly more-maybe even my hopes and dreams), to be and do what is best for the beloved. It is a constant placing first of their interests, their hearts, their good above my interests, my heart, my own good, my own success. The failure of the beloved is my failure. The success of the beloved is my success.
That list is terrifying. It means giving up your life.
How many kings stepped down from their thrones;
How many lords have abandoned their homes;
How many greats have become the least for me?
How many gods have poured out their hearts,
To romance a world that is torn all apart;
How many Fathers gave up their Sons for me?
It's like He stepped out of the shadows. It is Him! It is Jesus. He is Love. He gave up everything for me, and gave me the freedom to see His love and still walk away. He is the example, the epitome of love. True love.
He died for my benefit, for my freedom from guilt, sin, and shame-from everything that held me, chained. He loved me enough for that. And still is loving me like that. Even now, in giving me questions, in putting me in places to remind me--there is NO love possible outside of him. He is the Author of Life, and of Love.
12 This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:12-13)Whoa. Ummm...but-Jesus, you're You. And I'm...me. There's kind of a big difference in those two. Like, everything.
"But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness."
(2 Corinthians 12:9a)
He reminds us often that He is with us, and for us. His Spirit is in us.
2 Timothy 1:7- For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.He is Love. He is with us; He has given us His Spirit. He calls us to love like Him.
What would life look like if we did? How different would this world be?
I think I needed to be reminded. Of everything. To live love is to live out His life in us.
*Let me be clear: this is the bar, which I fall SO short of so often. This is what His love looks like, not mine. And what love that is rooted deeply in Him, grown over years and years looks like, though it will always be imperfect too. But with each passing day, week, month, and year, I hope He teaches me more of it. Because as scary as love is, it is beautiful. And worth it.
