"The baby is sick, and they don't know what's wrong with him." Not exactly what I expected to hear after sending Paul to check on our newborn son. Twelve days overdue, the delivery was somewhat surprising, since all I was going to the hospital for that day was to have a non-stress test. They induced labor, and shortly after found sure signs of preeclampsia, which progressed quickly to an acute stage. I delivered my son through c-section, and then was placed in a dark room, flat on my back, so I could be monitored, as my blood pressure was still dangerously high. It was in that dark room that effortless love first erupted in me.
I had been the recipient of love all of my life--first my parents and siblings, then my spiritual parents, and many, many friends that were weaved in the fabric of my young years. And of course, my new husband--married not quite a year when our just-after-honeymoon-surprise was born--was the love of my whole life. But the helpless hours spent in that darkened room, mostly alone because the doctors feared for my life should I get too much stimuli, a love like I'd never known filled me. My arms longed for my baby, my heart fully focused on him, and nothing could take my mind off of the little one I had yet to hold. I was unaware of my own condition--all I cared about was my infant son, and his life.
I was confronted with the thought of "effortless love" yesterday while talking to my friend whose house burned down twelve days ago. During the conversation he mentioned that it was as if Paul and I "loved effortlessly" that day at the fire. The words struck me, and I haven't been able to shake them. We've been very close friends with this family for almost twenty years, they've seen us walk through many situations, and they've had the opportunity to see us at our very best, and very worst--how was this love different than the love we've demonstrated thus far in our lives? This idea of effortless love intrigued me, and I've spent the last day pondering what it means. Here's what I've come up with; Effortless love happens when the love we give isn't concerned about receiving anything in return.
I came up with this theory after sitting down and dwelling on the day of the fire. I thought about what happened in our lives up until that point in time, and I thought about my heart and motives during that tragic day. Through my self-analysis I found, to put it simply, that that day was not about me. My treasured friends lost everything but the clothes they were wearing--all my focus and attention was on them, as it should have been.
Here's the rub--I want to love like that all of the time. This year has been pivotal for me. I've hurt in ways I never want to hurt again, and I believe through the pain came a realization that has led me to be able to grasp love and give it in tangible ways. I came to the place of truly knowing that I am completely loved. I've always known great love, from people and from God. But there is something about being stripped of the love you want, in order to intimately know the love you can't possibly live without. I don't think I can love well without the revelation of how well Christ loved me--enough to suffer an unrelenting death.
Through the Valley of Weeping came the most amazing gift--the knowledge of the depth of the love of the Father. It's something that's indescribable, but it's swept out the crevices of my heart, and has made me whole. It has also made me able. While prior to this experience I've loved, now I love without expectation. (That has always been the thing to trip me up--expectation.) Being completely loved means I can be completely me, and being completely me means I can love effortlessly, because I'm not interested about what I am getting in return.
Psalm 84
How lovely is your dwelling place,
O LORD Almighty! 2 My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
3 Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.
4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
Selah
5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.
6 As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
7 They go from strength to strength,
till each appears before God in Zion.
8 Hear my prayer, O LORD God Almighty;
listen to me, O God of Jacob.
Selah
9 Look upon our shield, O God;
look with favor on your anointed one.
10 Better is one day in your courts
than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than dwell in the tents of the wicked.
11 For the LORD God is a sun and shield;
the LORD bestows favor and honor;
no good thing does he withhold
from those whose walk is blameless.
12 O LORD Almighty,
blessed is the man who trusts in you.
Effortlessly loving while being completely loved.
