One of my first experiences with love,
aside from family love, was my first boyfriend Zachary. He and I had this
captivating love that started as explosively as a firework and ended just as
fast. We had been in our relationship for a week and had already said the “I
love you”s. Sadly, he had to move to Oregon because his parents were making him,
(of course it wasn’t his idea, he was too in love with me
to move) and so our love ended. It was the summer of fourth grade and I just
knew my life would never be the
same. We couldn’t keep up a long distance relationship, so we said our
goodbyes. He left me with a love letter and a rock shaped as a heart- awesome! I
cried my little heart out. I really didn’t know if my life would go on. I just
recently read some of my journal entries from this very tumultuous time in my
life and I couldn’t help but laugh, but in my ten year old me’s defense, what I
felt for Zachary was the kind of love that cultivates in a week and you
literally have no idea if your heart will ever be able to love again. Obviously,
my heart loved again… again and again.
With every relationship I learned
something about myself. Sometimes it would be something wonderful and others it
would be just terrible. Baggage I wouldn’t want anyone else to know about
me. So I moved on, hoping that the next
relationship would not expose the nastiness inside of me. But that’s the funny
part about relationships. Someone will always make the little “monsters” in us
come out to play when we least expect it. My experience of love without God in
my life was conditional and self-seeking. It wasn’t until I got married that I
realized that I was meant to love differently. No matter how many times my
heart got broken, I was made to love time after time because love is a choice! The
fireworks that I felt with Zachary when I was ten were the same fireworks I
felt with any new boyfriend and especially my husband. However, the fireworks
fizzled and that feeling of butterflies in my stomach was always something of
the past. There had to be something else driving that love so it could sustain
itself. The choice had to be to remain interested and wanting to make my
husband feel respected and loved. Not
wondering what he has or hasn’t done for me lately (For the record I just want
to say that what I just described is my ultimate wife persona. She is with me
from time to time but other personas enjoy playing as well. Such as the nagging persona, the hormonal persona, the “You-don’t-care-about-my-new-haircut-so-that-means-you-don’t-love-me”persona,
so on and so forth. I am not at all a perfect wife. I wish I could be, but this
“choice” is ultimately the best version of me). Being married has sure taught
me a few things about love.
June 2007- church bells are ringing! We came home from our honeymoon and normalcy
settled in. I felt a sense of uneasiness. I had no idea what I had signed up
for. I thought that love and marriage were these perfect little butterflies
that would flutter around the house everyday and we would always be smiling and
he would always be my knight in shining what-cha-ma-call-it. We courted for
only 5 months, got engaged, and in 5 more months we were locked in. So, you can
see we didn’t know ALL the icky-ickies about each other yet, yet being the KEY
word here. As our first year of marriage pressed on like a supercharged train,
we went along for the ride. Finding many joys in the marriage as well as many
dark moments in which we needed a higher power to help us! At one point in our
marriage, I was having problems with an issue I’ve been battling with for a
long time and I remember being so shattered inside that at that moment I thought
I was unlovable by anyone. I was
scared for my husband to see my brokenness. I thought that if he saw me this
weak and sad he wasn’t going to want to be around me anymore. Skeletons of my
past kept me captive and unable to move forward with my life. Horrible
circumstances not fair for a young girl to have gone through haunted my thoughts.
I was working out with God what had to be cut loose in order for the healing
process to begin. I wanted to forgive. I wanted to rid myself of all the pain I
felt inside. I got closer to God because my life depended on it. It wasn’t easy
letting go and letting God’s love cover me like a blanket of hope. It wasn’t
easy forgiving. When I made the choice to lift up my problems to the only One
who can heal all, my salvation began. It was still very difficult for me. I can
vividly remember one night crying in the shower. My husband heard my sorrow,
got in and just held me. We didn’t speak one single word for a long time, he
just held on to me until I cried out my very last tear. At the beginning, my
tears were for how broken I felt inside and then they became tears of joy-joy
for the love God had just displayed for me through my husband. That day my
husband proved to me that he loves me beyond my looks, he loves me beyond the
moments when I’m funny and kind and deserving of love. He loves me whole-heartedly.
Let’s jump ahead three years. It’s a
hot August midnight; many contractions have been had. Too many if you ask me. I
have been in labor for over thirteen hours and still no sign of this baby!
Where is she!? I was hungry, tired, and
plain bored. I thought this show was going to be on the road much faster than
it all went down. I was mad at my husband because he had just gotten to eat the
most amazing smelling tri-tip barbecue sandwich, and the sweet smell of the
barbecue sauce impregnated the room. Did I wish he would have fasted with me
through this terrible two day ordeal? YES. Did he? NO. Anyway, I’m not bitter
at him anymore, but not any-less
either... After being in pain,
exhausted, feeling cheated with food, and bored to death, three o’clock came
around. Guess who was ready to make her appearance? Who would have guessed that
an hour of pushing a watermelon out of your what-do-you-know would feel like an
eternity! At 4:17AM, my little 8 pound,
21 inch slimy nugget got put on my chest. In that brief moment my heart grew
about fifty times over. After having what seemed like hundreds of people in our
room we were all of the sudden alone with our baby girl. It felt so bizarre,
Mark 10:8 was apparent, “And the two shall become one”, and that we did! Whoa,
I was in utter bliss and disbelief. I never, ever, in a bazillion years could have
ever been prepared for the love I felt for my daughter. Even now after a year of being a mommy I have
a hard time containing all the love I have for her in my heart. I know that the
way I love her is just a little preview of what God’s love is for me! Dang!
I’ve been feeling love from my family
ever since my mother’s first sign of morning sickness. This incredible love fest has continued throughout
my life. I have been so blessed to feel so much love from so many people! However,
I will say that the one love that has made me fully understand what it really means to love is God’s love for ME.
It is really easy for me to love people, when they are behaving in a way that I
perceive as deserving of my love.
It’s so easy for me to act loving to my husband when he brings me flowers and
he rubs my feet. It’s amazing telling my little baby girl I love her when she
smiles at me and hugs me. It is not so easy when they are being rude and mean,
but that is what it means to really love, when it’s not conditional upon
people’s behavior. God loves me even in the moments when I feel unlovable. He
loves me in the moments when I least deserve it. He loves me in the moments
when I feel completely broken and shattered. That kind of love is what I am
striving for. I have felt love, I have experienced love, but I never fully
understood it until I understood how profoundly God loves me.
