I used to think love was a feeling, or something you gave to someone. I adopted the princess definition thinking that love would find me and be constant forever. But love is so much more than that. It's showing kindness in ugly moments, hoping the best through rough patches and holding hands when you want to run. It's overriding offenses with understanding. It's being honest, even when it hurts to be so. It's giving so much of yourself that you feel you'll bleed. It's all the things I struggle to do.
My tendency is to love with conditions ~ wanting it to benefit me as much as others. Reaching out as long as it doesn't hurt; forgiving only when others admit their wrong. I give when it's easy. And this isn't love. Offensive. Conditional. With walls.
I don't want to be that way. I want love flowing off of me like sand off a dune. I want it moving freely without hesitation, full of grace and compassion. I want my love to wave in the wind of turmoil, signaling that this is a safe place to hide.
I'm not there yet. I have so far to go and sometimes get weary in the journey. But even self-pity is about me. I gave up self-condemnation for Lent, a strange thing to give up I suppose, but it's been utterly revealing. I never knew how circular my thoughts could be. But I'm walking step by step away from that path and onto one full of mercy.
I want my love to be a beautiful thing, like a flower in the field or a barren tree at the brink of Springtime.