As usual, I have roaming words. "Love" is not new, in fact it was the I-think-I-just-threw-up-a-little-in-my-mouth concept that has plagued me, taunted me really, since well before the beginning of this blog. Unfortunately for you, I'm slow at learning things I resist. Fortunately for me, the good Lord is patiently persistent in His pursuit of me and is not willing to flunk me out of the class. I guess, like it or not, I've been signed up for Summer School. (Shhhh, I think I'm starting to like it. Don't tell Abba.)
"Fear" is the newest word being added to the theme being woven through these writings. "Be Still" is still the inescapable concept being stirred into conversations, texts, songs and books I'm reading. It's starting to feel like a conspiracy! Let me explain:
Three weeks ago the pastor at my church, (yup, I'm claiming it as my own these days), started a six week series on Love. Seriously??? SIX WEEKS is a long time to discuss something I feel soooooo.... well, on the outside-looking-in. It's not that I don't understand what it takes to really love someone, I do. It's just that the kind of love I have poured out on people is at such a slow drip rate returning, my well is bone dry. Obviously there's an engineer/operator error and I'm just plain too tired to figure it out. I'd sorta like to throw a tarp over it all and wait for a downpour to fill that bad-boy up...
The theme the first week was about loving the "unlovable". Great. I can do that. I DO, do that. If there is one thing I know that God gave me when He made me, it's an insight and understanding of people. Even the ugliest of personalities are lovable and, usually, I am able to figure out what it is the root cause of their "ugliness".
Week two confirmed what I already know and believe at the core of me: Love Matters Most. "There are three things that will last- faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13 Yup, you are my witnesses, I've been in that chapter a time or two this year. I get it- love and relationship are all that matter in the end of this life and for all time hereafter With every cell in my body I believe that. Let's face it: No dying person ever asked to see their financial statements or property deeds from their death bed. Trophies, wardrobes and stamp collections mean very little as we lie there anticipating our final breath. People want people in the end.
"Loving like Jesus loves me"- the theme for last week- really defined for me, my discomfort with the series. We went on to discuss the Accepting, Valuing, Forgiving, Believing-In nature of Christ. Oh, I "get it" in a million ways as it pertains to YOU. I see you. I get you. I accept you. I value you. I forgive you. I believe in you- until I'm made a fool a bazillion times and then, once more. That's not the problem. The question getting louder everyday is, "What would it look like if I loved ME the way Jesus does?"
From there it's time to make an abrupt segue to the "fear" thread of this woven theme. Sometime in January the whisper of the words "Perfect love casts out fear Collene" would randomly cross my mind. I shoved them aside because they made no contextual sense.
In general, I'm not a fearful person. I am an adventurer. I am a professional at boot-strap pulling and carrying myself with confidence, whether I emotionally feel like it or not. I don't fear the night, or being alone, or heights, or death. Still the word of 1 John 4:18 filtered through my days. "What am I fearing?" I wondered... soooo, He showed me.
A few weeks ago I was encouraging a friend. "God is soooo gentle when He heals us," I told him. "We fear that he's going to rip and tear the whole deep, gaping wound and expose our mess in its entirety, causing unimaginable pain and embarrassment. He's not like that. I'm finding Him to be a gentleman, always. He quietly points out where He'd like to start His work and asks if He can 'have that yet'. If I say 'no', He waits. If I say 'yes', but continue to grip it tightly, He waits. He persists, asking often, displaying His trustworthy character, bathing me in grace and mercy, until I release the thing I'm hiding away. God is gentle."
I'm realizing that what I fear, He's been gently asking for, for a long time. Once upon a time, I was sick. I was married and therefore not solely responsible for providing for my family. Although he didn't always like it or understand it, my husband was, for the most part. helpful and patient with me during the search for a diagnosis. (You can read the background on that here, if you care to.)
Last month, on the morning I was flying home from my Alaska trip, I passed out, dramatically, for the second time. I came to in a pool of blood, with a potentially broken nose and a mild concussion. As I type the bumps are still painful on my forehead and nose. Let's just say I got more than a few double glances on the flights that morning...
In the weeks since I've been home, my body has returned to the all-too-familiar aches and exhaustion. I fear doing THIS again, this time alone. I fear the progression to what I know is possible. I fear a life of having to rely on someone. I fear having no one reliable. Ultimately, just like I did last fall, I continue to fear "being still".
Perfect love casts out fear.
God, who loves me perfectly, has surrounded me with tangible, practical, wisdom, expertise and support in a variety of ways. Additionally, I have hope and peace and a downright good attitude about this.
I realize now that I have not been taking care of me physically (or emotionally) in a loving way, the way Jesus would. The flight attendant instructions to put your own oxygen mask on before assisting others has come to mind so often this week. It's the phrase I told myself as I crawled into bed for the second nap of the day last Saturday, and what I reminded myself when I said 'no' to just one more client, on an already fully booked day. If I am not able or willing to take care of me, I will continue to be a bone dry well and utterly useless to everyone...
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