When only people remain

I enjoy traveling. I’m not, however, itching to go most places that other recent grads long to go: London, Paris, Rome, or Vienna. I want to go somewhere that’s less developed, not showy, perhaps more rural. I want to live alongside the marginalized. I want to experience both the joys and the difficulties of living a simple life. I love simpler places because there are fewer distractions from seeing the beauty of people for who they are and their culture.

When all of the glamour of life is stripped away, what’s left is people. It’s people who are most important to me. I’ve heard that (as a generalization) more impoverished areas of the world value relationships more highly than in consumeristic countries. That’s how our priorities should be. Don’t get me wrong: sightseeing and travel are wonderful and good! But let’s not allow them to eclipse the beautiful people who inhabit those areas.

I realized this about myself when I was just a kid struggling with mental illness. In my depression I concluded that life was meaningless if not for relationships. If I was going to live at all, it would be for relationships–for God my Redeemer, for my family, for friends.

It takes going through something uncomfortable for us to re-evaluate our priorities. In tension with loved ones, having major illnesses, or experiencing tragedy we have the opportunity to look at our values with a fresh perspective. The incomprehensible international tragedies in the last week give us pause. What is most important to me? WHO is important to me? What do I live for? Comfort? Possessions? Family? Security? Faith? Success?

I’m firmly convinced that it is relationships that are most important. So how do I filter my every day decisions through that filter? How do I arrange my schedule to reflect my values?

Pray for those who are hurting around the world while you hold your loved ones close. Tell them how much they mean to you and enjoy their presence.

To Be Loved AND Known

In my community I have always had people who would say that they love me. I know that I am so fortunate to have lived around such loving people. There is nothing like it.

Yet… it is difficult for me to accept that I truly am loved as people say.

Having fought relentlessly to hide my pain and turmoil (and any expression of either) for all of my childhood, I ran myself into the ground as a shut-down, voiceless mess. The last several years I have been working to reverse the devastating effects.

I have been on a become-known adventure especially these last few months. It has been wild. In being more open and vulnerable with others about my story, I have had taken both baby steps and uncertain leaps with a fair amount of set backs mixed. It has been both difficult and freeing, exhausting and invigorating,

I want to share with you a quote that has influenced many of these major decisions in the last year by Timothy Keller:

To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.

Hiding feels safe. But in hiding, we are also confined. 

I could only accept love to the extent that I was known.

Living honestly does make me feel more vulnerable, but because of it, I am beginning to experience acceptance and belonging in a way that I never before deemed possible.

What does it mean to feel loved?

Today I walked to a local park to finish reading Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality. It was a refreshing and thought provoking book, and I encourage you to read it. 

Toward the end of his book, Don recounts a time when he learned to stop beating himself up mentally and to accept love from others. Don couldn’t let his girlfriend’s love for him sink in no matter how hard he tried to believe her. Finally, someone told him that his problem was that he based his value on what his girlfriend thought rather than God’s infinite love for him. Even though the girlfriend really did love him, she could never satisfy his deepest craving for acceptance. Once Don realized that God Himself loves and values him, he stopped obsessing over the matter. His whole outlook–and ability to relate to others–changed positively. 

On my walk back home from the park, I thought about what Don had said and how it relates to my own life. Like him, I have such a hard time feeling loved by others. I can know it cognitively, but my heart just won’t buy it. And the more I think of what it really means to be loved, the foggier my understanding becomes.

I’m afraid that we English speakers have so exhausted the term love that we have drained much of its weight. We throw the term around in terms of material consumption, of aesthetic or musical preference, of platonic and romantic relationships, in conversations about tolerance; the list goes on and on. “Love” is an overarching umbrella term that we use frequently rather than more specific descriptors. I’m guilting of slapping on the ambiguous term all the time too, probably due to laziness or habit even when more specific words would communicate with greater depth. Maybe we should put a hiatus on the frequency with which we use of the word love until we can recover its meaning and occasionally use more specific synonyms instead. 

So what does it mean to feel love, anyway?

Realizing that it is helpful to unpack different aspects, I started a list on my walk back home of different ways I could feel loved:

  • I feel known: seen, heard, understood
  • I feel cared about
  • I feel provided, sacrificed for
  • I feel honored
  • Someone has shown me compassion
  • Someone has shown me mercy
  • Someone has shown me patience
  • Someone enjoys my presence
  • I feel accepted
  • I feel respected
  • I feel protected
  • I feel like I belong

Putting the “loved” phrases more precisely helps its truth actually reach my heart. Do I feel “loved by God”? Sure. I don’t know,  I guess. But do I feel accepted by God? Do I feel like I’m understood, that I belong

Wow.

What a difference that makes in my heart! When I understand that I am loved, I live totally differently. I will go out of my way to serve others; I quickly extend grace; I forgive with patience (this line of thinking, by the way, is what Donald Miller discovered in the chapter I described). Honestly, though, Too often I selfishly protect myself long before even considering anyone else; I become consumed with my own desires and needs. But friends? God is still faithful, and I’m thankful that He gives me another chance.

So what can we do?

Accept love. Accept the deep riches of God’s love for you–His compassion, mercy, acceptance. Accept the love that your family and friends extend to you. In receiving it, you bless them in return.

Extend love. When we’re accepted, we should respond by recognizing the good we see in others, communicating our care for one another, and serving with actions of sacrifice.

Let’s love. And let’s live like we’re loved.

Real Talk for Straight Folk

Real Talk for Straight Folk.

I just found Julie’s blog last night and am blown away at her sensitive, compassionate, and articulate discussion of being a gay Christian (who holds the “side B” viewpoint). This particular blog post gives insight to ways that heterosexual believers may love their brothers and sisters in Christ who have a homosexual orientation.