In His Chrysalis

I should be sleeping. I don’t get enough of that these days – haven’t in years really. But, for whatever reason my mind won’t shut down tonight after the 1 am wake up call by my youngest. It usually does, but not tonight. Tonight it runs in the circles I find familiar, though a little dusty.

I find myself reminiscing about my life. I’m not really sure why I’ve been doing that recently, and I haven’t really liked what I’ve found. Looking back, I wasn’t the girl I thought I was in college. And I wish I had pursued the friendships offered to me rather than the ones I desired. I think I lost a lot of time and heart those four years. I did not treasure what I should have.

I left college and went to teach overseas for what ended up being a year. I was crushed in many ways, which I needed. I needed to see the world differently than when I was handed that college diploma. I needed to be reminded of who God was and who I was to Him. And God knows I listen best in crushing times. But I came home from that time overseas with wide eyes and dreams. I wanted to write (even now the race of my fingertips across the clicking keys trying to keep up with my thoughts is so satisfying); I wanted to write a book that would change life for the teenage girls in the self-focused American church. I wanted to reach out to women hurt by Christian institutions like I have been (and, spoiler – would continue to be – No, I’m definitely NOT talking about my current position; I’ve never been in such a healthy, Christian workplace. I’m talking about my history, and my parents, and places that continue to hurt those who are loyal. But that’s beside the point.) I wanted to be a voice for the voiceless (though I don’t think I would have known enough to be able to use that terminology at that point) – or maybe I simply wanted a voice myself. I wanted to start a women’s ministry that wasn’t all pink and crafty and Proverbs 31-y. I wanted to be BIG, like speaking-to-stadiums-of-women big. Really. I wanted that.

So I wrote the book (still unpublished, which might be a good thing. I haven’t read it in 10 years and who knows what’s in it.) And I dreamed. And I started working with the youth group at my church. And then I went to seminary, all the while sitting on Facebook. And walking into bookstores.

And began to hear the legion of other voices screaming into the digital void, demanding to be heard, demanding to be recognized, demanding to be unaccountable for the fallout of their words, demanding to be right, demanding to be BIG. And years of that can stifle a woman – or at least this woman. Or at least change her dreams – my dreams.

I realize this is a bit…ironic? (I never use that word correctly) since I’m writing this in a public blog – my first in what? Five and a half years? But more voices yelling into the digital void doesn’t feel like what this world needs. More people telling women how to be women or how to be healthy women doesn’t feel like what my little world needs. Another voice telling the Christian Machine that it’s wrong, and hurting others, obviously isn’t what this world needs. Another voice putting words in God’s mouth doesn’t feel like what those around me need. And so I’ve been silent, and probably will continue to do so except for when my brain won’t shut off at 1:30 am after nursing my youngest back to sleep.

It’s been an interesting journey – this life. And I have no idea what’s ahead, obviously. And I am a very different woman than when I started this blog an eternity ago. But, I guess I wanted to yell into the void* that I’m here, silent, listening for those that need to talk. And I’ll do my best not to interrupt, or tell you a story about how I can relate to your suffering, or tell you what I think you should do (oh how I love to tell people that one!).

I’m just here. Trying to live out the life God has given me, as faithfully as I can. Trying to learn from my mistakes, and move on. Trying to listen better. Trying to be a better friend, a better wife, better mother, daughter, sister.

I’m just here.

*(yes, I realize I’m stealing that line from “You’ve Got Mail”, and I’m realizing it’s been years since I’ve watched that movie)

Love never failing, however is different than love “winning.” Indeed, I do not think love – real, actual love and not something else masquerading as love – can “win”. Love, at its very nature is uncompetitive, and wants what is best for the other person.

Love invites. It creates an atmosphere where the one loved can, if they so choose, have the freedom to figure out and express who it is exactly that God originally intended them to be. But it is the choice of the loved one to enter into that space; it is not up to the lover whether or not the loved one enters. This is what is scary about love – developing and opening up that space for another without the guarantee that the loved one will enter, or respond the way the lover expects or hopes.

Saying love “wins” is like saying ice cream makes an excellent public speaker – the two don’t even go together and are nonsensical when put together.

Love cannot “win”. Love, real love, however, never fails. It is always there, creating that inviting space, no matter what.

This means love looks different in every relationship. For a loving mother, loving her son means giving him the space and opportunities to figure out his strengths, passions, and desires without her forcing him to become the man she envisioned. For a friend, it means listening and go on adventures, helping that loved friend process who God created them to be. Sometimes it means telling a friend or a sibling or a teenage child that the way they are living is not helpful for becoming the person they were created to be. Love can be hard. Loving often is, actually. But, it has to be to be life-giving, life-calling.

And real love, no matter what, is always willing to create space for the loved one. A space where the love one – and hopefully the lover too – can continue in the process of becoming all that God created them to be. A space where there is room to heal from a deep wound, a space where laughter and tears and joy and adventure are welcomed. A space where risks are invited.

A space such as that will never fail a person. It will change the loved and the lover, but it will never fail.

I was underlining verses in Bibles today, getting them ready to hand out to my youth group high schoolers, and as I underlined 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, the line, “love never fails” jumped out at me.
Sure, I’ve read that verse I don’t know how many times over the lifetime of being a believer, but somehow, before, it was always just words. Never a promise. Never a “this is how it should and can be.” Maybe because I’ve been thinking recently about love and relationships and how much God likes to heal them or maybe it was just something I needed to focus on, but “love never fails” hit me hard today.
I mean, if that is true, if we really believed and acted on that, if we didn’t give up on relationships when they were hard and painful knowing that, in the long run, we would pass through this hard time, than divorce wouldn’t ever really need to be a thing, would it? If love never fails, than all parents are forgiven for just being human and messing up. All kids are forgiven for being frustrated with parents. All workers work to forgive grumpy or unreasonable bosses.
If love never fails, than love, true love, changes the world. Unreasonable bosses are, over time and with a lot of prayer, tears and patience from their workers, changed. Children begin to understand that their parents are just broken adults. Adults release their children to be whoever God created them to be, and not the person the parent thinks they should be. Parents see their kids as imperfect humans too. They understand – a bit more – each other, and forgiveness happens.

If love really never fails, the world is changed. Not quickly, not easily, but through following the example of the One who loved best. Through blood, sweat, tears and lying down of personal rights. Through meeting people where they are, and not where we think they should be. Through prayer, so much prayer and faith that God hasn’t given up on them yet (Phil 1:6).

Love never fails, guys! Isn’t that so incredibly encouraging!!!!!

I have been overwhelmed recently – by words. Words to be written, words to be said, words spoken around me to be ignored, words spoken to me that must be remembered, words to be pondered, words to wound and words to heal. There is so much clatter and clamor that I have not been able to put down my own words. I have not been able to process. I am in desperate need of silence. Of Harry Potter’s Pensieve, or memory thing that holds your memories for you. I cannot form sentences to write papers, or blogs, or journal entries.

I need stillness. I need silence. I need it around me, but mostly I need it in me.

There have been so many words this semester, talking about God, about who I think (or should think) how He works. And the more I learn, the more arrogant about my knowledge I become, the louder the clamor of knowledge and words becomes, the less I hear.

This is something I need to work on – being still.

I don’t know what this has to do with Easter. Probably not much, except that because of what Jesus did for me on this day we celebrate, I have the gift of being still at times and simply basking in His presence. This is a gift I need to participate more often than I do.

There are days when I’m like,”God, what do you have for me today?”

And there’s silence.

And yet, today anyway, there’s also a deep, gentle peace. Peace like a momma holding her two-year old sleeping baby girl.  Peace like a man holding his woman’s hand and just watching the sunset.  Peace like  quiet.  Peace like flowers silently unfurling.  Peace like a hug, or cookies and milk, or a beloved stuffed animal (or, in my case, pillow) snuggled tight.

Peace.

Be still. Breathe it in.  Hold it close.  Rest.

God is good, all the time.