Affectionate Responsibility: The Doing of Love

You know they’re coming. Those moments when you’re confronted with the worst of you so that the best of you can break free. Sometimes those moments come right after you’ve rolled your eyes at someone who beat you to the last pair of Nine West leopard pumps…on sale…in your size. *hangs head* Other times, they come right after you cut someone off in traffic, took their parking space or said an intentionally unkind word. The ugliness of our imperfections can show in a myriad of ways that, if unchecked, cause the beauty in us to be called into question.

That’s what happened to me. Here I was wearing love like a banner; basking in the fact that I was becoming almost a martyr for it. And that’s not a problem. Everyone should want to sacrifice themselves so that a higher purpose is served. For me, that purpose was love. But is that what I was giving? It wasn’t until one of those moments came, through a conversation with a friend, I accepted that the answer was no.

I realized my conception of love only suited me and what I was trying to do. I can purpose, with everything I have, to be the bridge that closes the religious gap which divides us all but if the people I encounter daily do not recognize the authenticity of my intentions with them, it doesn’t really matter. We can be concerned with the lives of our co-workers, our neighbors, the poor and the impoverished but if we can’t show concern to those who show concern for us, what are we doing? We can be kind to strangers on the street, believing we’re unknowingly entertaining angels, but what if we are not treating the angels we know are in our lives with the same affection?

These questions and the numerous others I had after my talk caused me to wonder if I really knew what love does. Not what love is…because there is a difference. I know that the iPad is Apple’s newest (and coolest) tablet toy but I have no clue what you do with it. I am certain that love is integral to existing and thriving in this world but I was beginning to see that I wasn’t so certain of its mechanics. And so I went to the place where so many retreat in order to get the very answer I needed: 1 Corinthians 13. Needing it in another way, I sought the Message Translation.

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.

Love doesn't strut.

Love doesn't have a swelled head,

Love doesn't force itself on others,

Love isn't always "me first,"

Love doesn't fly off the handle,

Love doesn't keep score of the sins of others,

Love doesn't revel when others grovel.

Love takes pleasure in the flowering of truth.

Love puts up with anything,

Love trusts God always,

Love always looks for the best,

Love never looks back but keeps going to the end.

As if it were my first time reading this, I finally understood that if I want to be love, I have to do what love does. So I read it again and replaced love with myself.

Candice never gives up.

Candice cares more for others than for herself.

Candice doesn't want what she doesn't have.

Candice doesn't strut,

Candice doesn't have a swelled head,

Candice doesn't force herself on others,

Candice isn't always "me first,"

Candice doesn't fly off the handle,

Candice doesn't keep score of the sins of others,

Candice doesn't revel when others grovel,

Candice takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Candice puts up with anything,

Candice trusts God always,

Candice always looks for the best,

Candice never looks back but keeps going to the end.

This is what I’m supposed to do. This is what we’re all supposed to do. Love is what we’re meant to be. We can’t quit. We can’t boast. We can’t force. We can’t live in the past. We can’t be unwilling to forgive. For if we are any of those things, we can’t be love. As I read our job description, I recognize how great the task is before us. We are not perfect. At no point will we ever master all of these things. But we can try. We can try to offer everyone we meet the same radical behavior that changed our lives. And when we get tired of trying to do it, we will just do it- because it’s a part of us.

It’s what we do.

It’s who we are.

We are love.

Oh, what a blessed assurance.

©CMB, 2011