To Love (part two)

Love is patient, love is kind. 

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

I Corinthians 13:4-7

In my previous post I was making the case that we were put on this earth to love.

Not to take, not to earn, not to suffer- to love. 

I’m not referring exclusively to romantic love, I mean it in all avenues. Every interpersonal exchange is an opportunity to share love. 

Anytime we are listening with the intention of understanding, observing without judging, and speaking only our truth- we are embodying love. 

Sometimes I worry my rose colored glasses make me seem juvenile, laughable even. That proclaiming love as the foundation of life makes me somehow unrealistic or not firmly planted on the ground. 

Even so, I stand by my declaration that our biggest and most deserving lesson in life is to learn how to give love without expectations. To love for the sake of love.

Love is the one thing that doesn’t diminish as it’s given away, in fact- it grows. Like one candle lights another, when we give unconditional love to others we don’t actually lose any of it. 

We must learn how to do this wholeheartedly, unselfishly, and without fear. 

The patient that started this conversation argued against my theory. 

The defense: people “destroy” other people when it comes to love. As in, if we don’t keep our guard up, someone may come in and burn the place down. 

I completely understand this sentiment, and in a sense it’s true. 

To love fearlessly is a huge risk. It involves putting yourself out there knowing full well your energy may not be returned. Worse, it may be met with contempt or scorn. 

So how do we love openly without opening ourselves up to pain? 

The answer is we don’t. 

Inevitably, pain will come. 

Pain will come in the form of rejection, judgment, ridicule, and mockery.

Pain will come from the aftermath of a love gone sour. 

Pain will come from love that is not returned, from the ache in our heart as the one we love so deeply doesn’t love us back. 

Pain will come with loss of loved ones and the dissolution of beautiful relationships. 

Pain will come as we are called weak, sensitive, passive, and plain ignorant at times. 

If we are loving purely, our motivations (and sanity) will likely be questioned by others along the way.

Indeed, opening our hearts to emotionally immature or manipulative people does put us at risk of being taken advantage of. 

I argue that it’s a risk we must take. We take the risk knowing we could be hurt in the process, and trusting that we have the capacity to handle what's to come.

Though we can’t escape the pain of love, we shouldn’t use fear as an excuse to stop loving altogether. We can’t retreat into ourselves, unwilling to connect with others.

If anything, we should use the pain that comes with love as fuel to love others better.

We are imperfect beings and, try as we may to love others well, we will all fall short at some point. 

We will lose our tempers, say things we don’t mean, lash out in anger, and betray each other. 

We will forget to call on a birthday or check in after a surgery. 

We will rush slow moments because we have things to do that seem more pressing. 

We may even abandon our loved ones in a misguided attempt to save ourselves from the discomfort. 

When we find ourselves in the thick of imperfect love, from either side, the only solution is to course-correct. 

We must practice honesty, repentance, and forgiveness. We have to take ownership of our role in the situation and be more intentional going forward. 

Sometimes to love someone well we must choose to stay with them through their imperfect attempt at love. We must support, guide, and reaffirm. 

Sometimes to love someone well we must choose to walk away. We must leave them to their own resources and pray that they find the light. 

This is the difficult part of love: knowing when to stay or when to go. 

Regardless, we have to be willing to give grace to the person who has hurt us. 

Giving grace isn’t saying what they did is okay, it’s saying “I see that, like me, you’re imperfect.” 

Giving grace doesn’t mean staying in a situation that creates chaos within us or physically harms us. 

Giving grace isn’t condoning repeated hurtful behavior. 

It’s simply a recognition that we are cut from the same cloth. It’s an understanding that when two imperfect people try to love each other- there’s bound to be a learning curve. 

Oftentimes the people who hurt us are the ones who need unconditional love the most. These are the tricky cases, the biggest of risk (and potentially the biggest reward) reside in them.

It takes a special person to love someone through their darkest days. 

When we find ourselves loving selfishly, with expectations, or half-heartedly- it’s the perfect opportunity to reconnect with our purpose.

 We can give ourselves grace while still holding ourselves accountable. 

We can embrace imperfect love knowing we are all just doing the best we can with what we have. 

And for the record, I don’t agree that love can destroy others. 

In fact, I think real love is the most powerful tool for change that exists.