How difficult it is to give love, without first forcing someone to earn it. Even within the supposed safety of our families, where we stress unconditional love, the pressure to perform for love seeps into much of our interaction. How difficult it is as a parent, when so much energy and effort seems continually focused on instruction and discipline and encouragement, to separate the giving of love from the end results of that day's activities and obstacles. Our displays and declarations of "I love you", too often are attached to the success of a specific endeavor, or at least when we feel we have been appeased. How difficult it is to give true unearned love, even when it is our deepest desire to do so.
Which, of course, makes Easter all that much more incredible, as I reflect on it. That the events of Holy Week, and Easter morning, are an unwarranted display of God's love for me. An undeserved declaration of God's love for the world. No reservations. No requirements. Simply done because I am loved. Simply done because we are loved. By no means does this cheapen this mighty gift of grace. Quite the opposite. It reveals the true depths of God's love, that "while we were yet sinners" he loves us. He loves us, not inspite of ourselves. He loves us, because he loves us.
How do I love without compensation? How do I love without expectation? How do I love as God has loved me? Although I am not God, I believe I am called to love others as he has loved me. And yet, loving others reveals to me, possibly even more than my sins, just how far my ways are from God's ways.
For most of the day on Sunday, the high school kids who make up my Student Leadership Team (SALT) here at church, turned our downstairs classrooms into a labyrinth, based loosely on Group Publishing's The Prayer Path. We'll be leaving it up throughout Holy Week so that anyone here at church can come by for an hour (or two) and experience the multi-sensory stations, listen to the pre-recorded meditations and instructions, and hopefully, connect with God in a personal and meaningful way. As Brother Lawrence suggests, to simply "practice the presence" of God.
I was really struck by how "into it" my kids got on Sunday as they created the labyrinth. They really wanted the labyrinth to look and feel right. Even when I left for a couple of hours to take my three little girls to a magic show sponsored by the local Jaycees (magic shows by magicians who reside a ways down the magician food chain...a whole other blog waiting to be written...), they remained focused and grasped the concept that they were hosting this event for the larger church. I'm proud of them, and reminded again of just how little age has to do with faith or spiritual maturity for that matter.
But the coolest thing of all, was that when I opened the doors on the labyrinth on Monday morning, who was the first one to come over to church and experience it? One of our oldest members. She came over, spent an hour and a half or so, and then signed the visitor's book with a note of just how much she appreciated the opportunity and the help the labyrinth provided her prayers that morning. Very cool. Our high school kids serving our most senior of citizens. Our most senior of citizens passionate enough about her faith to come and try something new. Very cool all the way around.
Faith that comes with age. Age that comes with faith. Beautiful witnesses both.
How difficult it is to give love, without first forcing someone to earn it. Even within the supposed safety of our families, where we stress unconditional love, the pressure to perform for love seeps into much of our interaction. How difficult it is as a parent, when so much energy and effort seems continually focused on instruction and discipline and encouragement, to separate the giving of love from the end results of that day's activities and obstacles. Our displays and declarations of "I love you", too often are attached to the success of a specific endeavor, or at least when we feel we have been appeased. How difficult it is to give true unearned love, even when it is our deepest desire to do so.
