I read this verse tonight. I found it to be well timed. I think it is easy to forget why one has faith. We are bombarded day in and day out with logical reasons we do not necessarily need faith or God. There is an explanation for everything. And while those explanations do not negate the existence of God, they can at times diminish our dependence or need of God.
Love always reminds me of the reason why I so desperately need my faith in Him. It is the one area for me that is completely irrational, illogical, and unscientific. It begins. It thrives. It tapers. It dies. For a being to exist that can make an absolute statement such as everlasting love? Well, I need that being in my life. I need faith in that. I need to know what that looks like. What that feels like. But it isn't just for me. I need to know these things not just as a recipient. I need to know so I can be a giver as well.
One thing I have realized over time is that brokenness begets brokenness. We have all been hurt at one time or another. We have all been neglected, ignored, mistreated, abused, forsaken, and abandoned. If we know nothing else then this is all we are capable of mimicking in return. Even in light of lofty ideals we are incapable of actualizing those ideals without some sort of practical application or demonstration. The only way we are capable of expressing love is because we have been loved.
Were I to love others in only the fashion in which I have been loved by those that have crossed my path in life, I'd be a pretty shoddy lover. That isn't to say that I have not been loved. But it is to say that none of us are capable of loving perfectly. The end result is that we are always going to hurt others both purposefully and accidentally. It will happen. It is extremely distasteful when people fail to realize or admit they are broken and that in their brokenness they inevitably hurt others. I don't know how others function, but I can't work with that. However, to hear an admission of imperfection... Aha! That I can work with.
There is a tremendous amount of weight that lifts from my chest when I remove the burden of endless love from those around me and let it rest on the shoulders of the only being capable of such infinite expression. There is freedom to give without the unrealistic expectation of perfect reciprocity. I am no longer attempting to mirror someone else's love; I am channeling a source of infinite love. Of course that does not mean I am capable of demonstrating perfect love. Because, guess what? I'm broken too. And while I am unable to love perfectly, I can at least do more than join the house of chaotic mirrors that perpetually distorts reality.
If all we ever do is mirror love, the world would be a dark and desolate place. And some days really are faint and lonely. Even in the presence of many who love, it can seem like a barren wilderness. Yet for me, the knowledge of the existence of perfect love by a perfect being makes that wilderness bearable. The more we learn to redirect our expectations from the imperfect to the perfect the better we become at caring for one another. We cease to mirror the brokenness - our own and that of others - and become vessels and conduits of something greater than ourselves. Something infinite. Something perfect. Now that's a lofty ideal. Perhaps irrational, illogical, definitely unscientific. But it's mine. And I love it.
2 comments:
"Hurt people hurt people." Instead of running to the DSM to diagnose people, seek to address the trauma underneath.
I was also thinking when I read this: how I love people says a lot about who God is to me. I think Christians would "accomplish more" (I hate that but) if we simply made it our mission to show people what God is like. Forget about conversion rates, baptism numbers, and decisions for Christ (ugh). All that will be the result of simple busying ourselves with mirroring Jesus.
Post a Comment