Love Speaks Volumes

Generally I don't post blogs too close together, but I witnessed something today that slapped me across the face and screamed in my ear for me to write about it.

I was at Starbucks earlier (shocking, I know) and witnessed something that upset me a little. A woman's drink wasn't made to her standards, and rather than drink it anyway, or ask nicely for a new one, she insisted that the barista on bar add a shot, saying that if the barista were to remake it, she would just remake it wrong again.

It would be easy for me to sit here and write all about how wrong I think that woman was, but I won't. I can't say what's right or wrong for her, or for anyone other than myself. Instead, this event made me think about how I treat people myself.

While the woman waited for her drink to be "fixed," she looked at me and shook her head and rolled her eyes. I think she wanted me to commiserate with her, but instead I just stared straight ahead and avoided dealing with it. I was thinking, "It's just coffee.

No need to get so upset and maybe hurt someone's feelings." I was even a little upset with her for treating one of my friends with such a lack of respect. But rather than say any of that, I avoided.

I feel like, in general, we avoid things a lot. Maybe I should say I avoid things, instead of we, because I really don't want to be someone who generalizes everything in order to avoid blame or responsibility. I avoid things a lot. Especially things like that.

Perhaps I should have turned to the woman and told her off, but I don't think so. Perhaps my avoidance of her was worse than that. All I know is, I didn't handle the situation with love, and even in retrospect I'm not sure how I should have reacted.

As a follower of Jesus, I believe it's everyone's duty, whether you're a Christian or not, to love people. I don't want to tell someone they're wrong for not loving, but I do want to say that I want to love people. I want to love everyone I meet, and I want that to be clear. I want to do this because I think it's what life is really about.

However that woman acted, I should have shown her love. I showed my friend love by not talking to the woman about her drink in a negative way, but I didn't show the woman love. I ignored her, which is the same as telling her off I think.

Love speaks volumes. It heals us when nothing else can. It takes a rotten day and turns it on its head. It mends broken hearts and changes your perspective on things.

I wish that I had thought of that today for the brief moments I was in the same space as that woman. No, I wish that I didn't have to think about it, that to love her regardless of my emotions toward her in that moment was my first nature, rather than an action I decided to take. I want to love people. I think if we all loved each other, no matter what, then everything would be better.

I messed up today. But maybe because I messed up today, I won't the next time I'm given an opportunity to love someone. Whether it's in the line at the grocery store, or paying for gas, or talking to a friend, we have the opportunity to love on people every time we see them. I don't want to waste any more of those opportunities.

Timeline

My birthday was April 17th. I turned 26-years-old. 26 isn't a mile stone like 16, 21, or even 25, but it was a big milestone for me.

When I was younger, much much younger, I had a plan for myself. Graduate from college in 4 years. Get married after that, at 22 or 23. Have my first baby at 26. My second at 28. This plan seemed foolproof. For this plan to work I would have to meet the person I was going to marry, and actually marry them, in that time frame. What I failed to take into consideration was the fact that life doesn't work on a schedule. You can't just plan out these things. Life doesn't work that way.

For a long time, this really bummed me out. Every person I dated, I tried to force into the "husband" position so that my timeline would work like I wanted it to. And each time, those relationships fell apart and I was devastated because I had to start all over again. Because my timeline wasn't working out like it should.

But boy, am I ever glad that that timeline ended up being fiction.

If my timeline had worked, I would be in an unhappy marriage. I wouldn't have made the friends I've made. I wouldn't almost have my MFA. I wouldn't have taken the path that I'm on now--I wouldn't have learned what I have because of that path. I am just now, after a quarter of a century on this little blue and green planet, learning how to love like I should. Learning who I am. Learning what I want, and need, out of life. Learning what it is to live.

If my timeline had worked out, I'm sure I would find happiness. But I don't know that I would realize that, because I'm also just now learning how to find joy in everything, even if it doesn't go your way.

The path I'm on now is teaching me that, and I am so thankful to be on this path. To be in this life. I'm thankful my timeline didn't work out, and I'm thankful that I made the timeline in the first place. I'm thankful to be learning, and growing. I'm thankful for the times when those lessons are laughter and joy, and for when those lessons are tears.

On my 25th birthday, I hid from the world. I cried that I was getting "old" and that I hadn't achieved my goals. Well, I'm even older now, and on my 26th birthday, I laughed a lot. I smiled a lot. I spent a wonderful weekend with my family and friends. I felt young. I was happy. What a change a year can make on the way you view the world. I wonder what I will have learned in the next year. I'm excited to find out what that may be.

Love without Bias. Love with Wild Abandon.

Love.

I've blogged a lot about love. But as I grow, I learn more and more about what that word really means.

I think we throw the word around a lot, but I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. We say, "I love that car," or "I love this weather," and things of that nature. We tell our friends, our family, our significant others, even our pets, that we love them. I've heard some people say that throwing the word "love" around isn't something we should do, but wouldn't the world be a better place if we all threw love, actual love, around more?

Love isn't an emotion. Not really. It's a way of living. A choice. A gift. To love someone is probably the greatest gift we can give, but it's also something great we can do for ourselves. I know that when I love on someone, whether it's my best friend, my mom or dad or brother, or a complete stranger, I have this peace that washes over me. And while I don't claim to have all the answers, or even a small fraction of the answers, I think I have an idea of why that might be.

Let me try to break it down for my own sense of clarity. God is love. Jesus calls us to love. God loves on us. We should love on each other.

In Matthew 5 we are told to love our enemies as well as our neighbors. What a radical notion. Love your enemies. Love your neighbors. What I think Jesus is asking us to do here is just to love, without bias, with wild abandon.

"9 In this was manifested the love of God toward us: that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him. 10 Herein is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11 Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." (1 John 4:9-11)

I think we all (myself definitely included) should be kinder to people. Should be more understanding of people. Should have more conversations with people. And not just the people we already know. Talk to a stranger, ask them about their day. I wanna have the boldness to go out of my way to love on someone just because I can. There have been times when someone has shown me kindness, and they didn't even know me, and it made my day so much brighter.

Love is beautiful. Love is wonderful. Love is a real, powerful, vibrant force. I think we should all explore it a little more.

Series

The following three posts are three things I wrote with lots of time in between. I wrote the first one a few years ago, because a boy broke my heart. And the second, because I was lonely. And the third, which I wrote tonight, is because my relationship with God is what is finally taking center stage in my life (at least, I want it to). I read them together, and realized just how active God has been in my life, and in the lives of the people around me. I realized just how beautiful his works are, and how beautiful his teachings are.

I apologize for being so wordy. =]

P.S. I put the most recent one first, so that if you only want to read a bit, you'll read that one.

The Girl

3

The girl walked. She walked and walked. And every now and again she would stop, and talk with people, or talk and experience things with people. And some of those stops, she stayed for a while, and built relationships with people. And she built relationships with boys and men, time and time again, and each time things were beautiful and magical and surreal until a certain point. And at that certain point things would go sour, and her cracks would begin in her heart.

They would start small, hairline fractures, that were almost unnoticeable other than the dull ache somewhere between her spine and ribs. Then, those fractures would start to grow, to spiderweb like a windshield after a rock hit it, until the glass, the heart, shattered. And these boys, they walked away seemingly unscathed. And the girl would lie broken in the mud, hoping she could die.

But each time, no matter how far she had fallen, no matter how much of her skin was coated with mud and no matter how many scratches she had, bleeding without stopping, He was there to pick her up, and wash her off, and carry her to safer ground. Sometimes, she would cry out to him as she fell, and he would catch her and carry her. Others, she didn't even see Him there until she was clean and safe and bandaged. And in her safe place, in her confusion, she saw Him there, waiting to hold her hand and walk with her for as long as she would let Him.

Now, it's been years. And now, she's been walking, and falling, and walking, and falling for so long that it feels like a circle. And yet, each time, He is there to hold her, to carry her, to save her, to help her. Now, finally, she is beginning to see. In the beginning, now, she goes to Him before she goes to a boy. Now, she struggles to say, "Lord, I want You first. I want You most. I want You in my heart, and in my life." She struggles to say this, because while He is perfect and beautiful and always always there, He isn't tangible. And the boys, the men, they are. But she still struggles, she reaches, she tries to reach upward, she tries to keep her eyes on the one who loves her more than any man ever can. And each day, it feels like climbing uphill without shoes. And each day, she reaches a point when she is allowed to rest and He says, "See, daughter. See how things can be with us? And I'm sorry you have to make this climb. And I'm sorry you have to hurt. But I see how this is shaping you. And I see how you are growing. And I love you. And I am here, walking with you. Each step, each twisted ankle, each broken bone, I feel with you. But when you reach the top of this mountain, when you reach the pinnacle, think of how much stronger you will be."

The girl kept walking, kept climbing, kept reaching and looking toward the peak. And in those moments when she had to rest, when she rested without that calm, in those moments when she screamed and cried to Him, begging for help, for relief, He was there. He gave her the tools she needed to patch her hurts until she reached the next plateau. He gave her the courage to keep going, even when things were so dark she couldn't see. He gave her the strength to put one foot in front of the other no matter how much it hurt.

And when she wanted to give up, no matter how painful things were, she would remember the prize at the end. She would remember why she was climbing. Not for a boy. Not for a man. Not for a tangible, fleeting goal. But because His love was being poured into her, and she wanted more than anything to pour that love back.

The Girl

1

And the girl had been looking for the boy for her entire life. In every boy she met, she stared into his eyes and wondered "Are you the one that was made for me?" And each day that she didn't find the boy, she lost hope. Until one day she fell to her knees, and cried out to the Lord.

And God spoke to her and said, "I see you searching the entire world for the boy I made for you. But there is a better way. I made a path, just for you, and I've lit it brightly, so that you no longer have to search in the dark. And you may see the road and see its length and be discouraged, but if you stay on this path, on this path that I made for you and only you, not only will the boy be there to walk part of it with you, but you will find Me in every turn."

The Girl

2

But again, because the girl was a human girl, because the girl was flawed, she forgot and lost sight.

And when the girl was alone and all her hope was gone she turned her eyes to the sky and screamed. She screamed her hurt. She screamed her pain. She screamed until her face was wet with sweat and tears and her muscles trembled likes leaves in the wind.

She screamed out to God – a single long wail like the howl of a wolf. She felt like she was dying. In that scream she begged God to help her. To save her. To fix her. She begged Him to show her how to live again.

She looked up into the sky with a throat raw like tenderized meat and saw a cloud lined in golden light. It hurt to look at, but she didn’t look away. The cloud was moving slowly and she knew that if she kept looking at that spot the sun would be uncovered and it would blind her.

At the last moment she closed her eyes and felt the sun’s heat on her face. She felt the wind on her skin. She felt the tiny drops of moisture drip off her chin and over her lips. She felt everything.

Her heart pounded in her chest, in her throat, in her fingers and the soles of her feet. Her pain was a burn over every inch of her skin.

With her closed eyes toward the sky she fell to her knees and clutched her hands to her stomach. She pressed her fists into her belly and sobbed, water from the grass soaked into her jeans, and the water from her soaked into the ground.

“Lord,” she cried, her voice cracking, “Father. Help me. I need you. I need you. I need you.”

“I am always here,” said the Lord. “I am here with you every time you smile. I am here with you every time you cry. Every breath. Every heart beat. Every hurt. I am always here with you.”

“If you’re here then why does this have to happen?” She pressed her fists into her eyes until it hurt. “Why do I have to go through this?”

“I know you’re hurting. I know you’re hurting. But I have a plan for you. I have a path for you. Fix your eyes on Me. I am always here. I am always here.

As if a blanket were placed over her shoulders the pain in her body was soothed. The pain in her heart dimmed.

“I trust you, Father.” She pulled her hands away from her eyes and let them adjust to the light. She sat again with her face toward the sky and let the sun dry her tears. She stood with damp knees. She stood into the evening with hope once again in her heart.