Years of reading saucy romance novels and watching happy-ending-only chick flicks led me down a red rose petal dotted path of steam and fluff. Combine that with not having a daily father figure in my life to show me the practicalities of love, only the exaggerated holiday or infrequent weekend varieties which included ginormous teddy bears and trips to amusement parks to ease the pain of absence and you end up with one very skewed idea of what love looks like. It looks like flowers, extravagant gifts and mix-tapes (this shows my age) of sappy love ballads that you play on repeat. It can also look a lot like candlelit dinners, hand in hand walks down the beach and lots and lots of melodramatic fights, tears and pouting followed by reconciliation and empty promises made in between smothering kisses and high intensity emotions that wax and wane with the moon. This, my friends, is not romance. This is setting a stage, handing over a script and demanding action, but it is not what love really looks like. That's all the makings of infatuation.
When my husband and I first met, he admitted to not being the most romantic guy on the planet. The first time he bought flowers for me while we were dating, he put them in a vase on his dining room table and flippantly mentioned that they were for me. Two days after I had noticed them while at his house for dinner. They never made it to my house. Not even kidding. Then there was my birthday when I got all dressed up (dress, boots, great hair!!!) because he said we had some things to do. We went to Lowe's. So he could do yard work. Which was followed by a nap. We ended up going out to dinner that night, but I had already wilted and it was a rather quiet meal. Lots of pouting. Needless to say, there wasn't an abundance of sap or fluff and for a period of time, I questioned whether I could continue on because he seemed so oblivious to my needs. What made me happy. What made me feel valued and loved. What made me feel important. Do you notice a theme yet?
Me, me, me and more me. It was all about me.
But, who am I?
I was robbed of the love I needed to flourish and be secure as a child and never knew who I was or grew into the person God created me to be. I learned to perform for love, to survive on a diet of small encouragements here and there and desperately wanted to be perfect in hopes that someone, anyone would find me acceptable. I couldn't be me because I was deeply involved in being who I thought could be loved. I never got to know myself and if there was any hint of anything in me that someone didn't respond to or like, death to it! Not acceptable. The pressure was unreal. The desperation was dysfunctional.The result; a grossly malnourished idea of what love really is and who I really am. I was stuck in a cycle of constantly trying to prove myself.
Don't ever underestimate the value in knowing yourself, in feeling secure. Insecurities will take root and sprout up strangling weeds in your heart so quickly that you won't even realize when you're fertilizing them with selfishness. It isn't malicious and it isn't intentional. We were created for love, but when we are robbed of the stuff that makes us thrive, we substitute love with a lot of other messy junk that clogs the flow that love is truly suppose to follow; outwards. All I knew is that people taught me that love looked like things, typically given out of emotion and emotions come and go. I learned to desperately take dysfunctional love and pant for more, wildly clinging to the notion that it was the last I was going to get. Love isn't an emotion, nor is it anything that should be begged or dangled in front of us like the proverbial carrot.
Love is a promise that we either choose to accept or ignore. Whether we acknowledge it, fight it or fly from it, it stays the same. 1 John 4:8 tells us, "Whoever does not love, does not know God, for God is love" (ESV, emphasis by me). So let me ask you; are you actively giving love or are you actively manipulating your surroundings to get love? There is no shame in this getting part, please know this. We all do it. But, the word "does" is an ongoing kind of action. The word "is" is an unchangeable fact. If you are not doing, then you cannot know what "is". Are you lost yet? Me too. Fo' shizzle. Basically, if you are sitting around not dishing the stuff out like God does, then it is no wonder you aren't feeling or receiving it. You have to know His character to understand one very solid truth, you can't get away from love, He's always giving it and He wants you to be just like Him. Jesus was a dirty footed carpenter with a knack for rhetoric and political incorrectness from an awkward dot on the map and yet He loved more effectively than anyone else in the history of ever without giving a single red rose or box of chocolates. His love looked like parables, casting out demons, walking on water (okay, that's pretty mushy when a guy will walk on water to get to you) and laying His blessed hands on a dead man to resurrect him. God's love looked like a brutal sacrifice and scandalous grace hanging from a cross. His blood, reflecting all that we mean to Him and that He would trade Heaven for us to know it. We live in a post-modern world though and it just doesn't seem all that romantic anymore to intentionally walk out of your way to purposefully show a woman you love her (John 4:7) when you can just pick up a phone and send her an "emoticon". Somewhere along the way, we have forgotten about real effort and elbow-grease in our relationships , replacing Agape with "what about me?". Guilty, party of one, doing the typing. If grace is an ocean, I need to take these sinner's shoes off and dive in.
My husband might not have the commercialized market cornered in the romance department, but he certainly has it nailed in the Kingdom area. Looking backwards, I can tell you about the time when I was sick and couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed, so he sent someone over to clean my house. Or when my youngest had his tonsils out and he showed up with a bag of surprises to take his mind off of the pain. There was another time (by time, I mean months) when I was working two jobs and he looked in on my kids to make sure they had dinner and were safe. When the wheel flew off my garbage can, he arrived with zip-ties and determination (this is how he courted me, by the way. Nothing shows interest like a man willing to work on your trashcan). Sitting in the truck to let me listen to the end of a song I love, changing my air filter, servicing my car. These are all ways that I was romanced, only I was too busy looking for the shiny packages and sky-writing to realize it at the time. But this weekend, when I saw him on his hands and knees, barefooted and covered in the dirt and grime of a true labor of love, I realized it. He planted a beautiful garden for me.
"You deserve a beautiful garden", he said.
God showed us the same kind of love, ya know. He gave us a garden and we chose to look for shiny packages and writing in the sky. Let me not make the same mistake as Eve and forget the beauty of the simplicity, that I don't have to know another way as much as I need to acknowledge and love this way of life. Quiet grit, goofy dancing in the kitchen and a real affinity for Sasquatch are all good with me. This garden of transplanted flowers, it is planted in good soil. The hours and sweat in the August sun, the dirt under your fingernails and the stiff lower back say so because love is sacrificial and you felt I was worthy.
A wounded vessel of mercy hung on a cross to say so because love is sacrificial and You felt I was worthy.
Maybe you don't have someone in your life who brings you chocolate covered peanuts or twizzlers, because he knows they are your favorite. Maybe you are in a season of wondering if you ever will. Please, hold on to this anchor of hope; God made a sacrifice for you and has a plan and hope for your future. It is easier to hold on to the flesh of a person, than it is to hope in an invisible God, this I know. But, He promises that He cares for you and will continue to care for you. Put your hopes into prayer and let the Holy Spirit gently lead you into loving God for who He is, not necessarily what gifts He brings you. There is a King in Heaven who died to hear your voice and know His love for you. Let that be enough when your tender heart is yearning for more than this world is offering you. The truth is, I didn't even really know what my needs were until I met Jesus. He redefined them all.
God, let these truths be enough for me. Let me remember Your character when I want to make it all about me. If humility is caring more about others than ourselves, then I believe that true romance lies in humility. It is the end of ourselves and the outward flow of love that comes from knowing God's character, intimately. God is love. Paul said in best in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. How does it look in real life for me though?
Love is patient when you're weak and throwing punches at invisible fears, fighting something that isn't there anymore.
Love brings you endless kleenex when the fighting wears you down and all you have left are snot and tears.
Love lets your light shine when it is burning bright and doesn't cast a shadow over it.
Love never makes you feel small, but charges the giant with you.
Love admits to screwing up sometimes, but earnestly tries to get it right. It doesn't ask you for perfection either, but lets you learn you who are.
Love could raise it's voice, but holds you instead.
Love forgets your mess ups and highlights your step ups.
Love kicks the devil in the shins and helps you to your knees to reclaim the victory.
Love says look at the covenant promise circling your finger.
Love is steadfast, a kiss on the forehead and daydreaming about keeping bees, bucket lists and grandkids.
Love sees me and still does all of the above.
This is my romance. And who I am isn't determined by any of this, I realized. It is only the result of who I am. A daughter of the Most High King and if He is love;
Then I am loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment