Unspent Love

 Unspent love

Is that a thing? Did I make that up?

During this season, I see a very limited set of close friends. But I would dare say that the hangouts (either online, in-person or via chat) are even deeper, more meaningful and more treasured than before COVID. Yet, I want more.

There is a deep, deep hunger for more. More depth, more affection, more touch, more eye contact, deeper connection, deeper trust, deeper love

And it feels like there is this well of unspent love that needs to be given away. I want to hug/touch people, gaze into people's eyes, connect with people through personal/deeper convos.  Before COVID, people were busy, so I don't know if my interactions with people were even as deep (at least not as frequently). But for some reason, COVID (and everything else going on in the world) brings out this greater longing for unity, for connection, for spiritual hunger, for love, for change, for more. I don't know what that more is. I'm just unsatisfied, even as I am content. I have what I need but I still want more. 

Strong feelings are always scary. because. Is it normal? Am I different? Are they from God, or my flesh?

Lord, purify my desires and use them for your glory

Unspent, pent-up love. How does it get released? I can't just "do things" like volunteer; that'll burn me out. It has to be something that truly vibes with me, that is highly connected to my affections and passions. Maybe it's as simple as spending time gazing into the eyes of Jesus, into the heart of God. 

Continuously Awake

 I woke in bits, like all children, piecemeal over the years. I discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and discovered them again. I woke at intervals until, by that September when Father went down the river, the intervals of waking tipped the scales, and I was more often awake than not. I noticed this process of waking, and predicted with terrifying logic that one of these years not far away I would be awake continuously and never slip back, and never be free of myself again (11) – An American Childhood by Annie Dillard

I read this in 8th or 9th grade. It is such a deep quote, full of deep self-awareness of what it means to become an adult.

Recently, I thought of that quote because I could relate to it. As you grow older, you realize more and more, you can never go back to the more "carefree" days. Life only gets more complex. It's not that I'm relating to the "process of waking", but rather the process of entering into a complex world and knowing reality that you can never un-know again. Once you enter into this reality, you can't escape it. You can't slip back and be free of yourself again. Once you have responsibilities in life, you can't go back to being the child you once were. Once you enter into community and relationship with people, you're committed to both the joy and the pain.

It never ends, and it's a long journey. The older you get, the deeper into life you go, and the more involved with people you get, and the more settled down and committed you are,  the more you realize how complex and nuanced everything is, how un-black-and-white everything is, how there are no straight forward answers. The more you realize that you have to do the hard work of listening, understanding, humbling yourself, deciding upon your convictions but expressing them in love, bringing people together, jumping into your own emotional mess or other people's messes, dealing with the past, healing from the past, asking for forgiveness, trusting in the way God sees you even though no one else sees what God sees, trying to help others to see others the way God sees them.

People are hard, but they're worth it. Church unity is hard, but it's worth it. Having kids is hard, but it's worth it. Family relationships are hard, but family is forever. And Church is family. 

I think it's like deciding to adopt a 10-year-old kid who has a LOT of "issues" because they've been an orphan for so long. Once you commit to adopting, you're committing for life. You can't back out. You're not a foster parent; you're their real parent. You have to deal with all the complexities, including your kid saying "I hate you; you're not my real parent" or things like that. You have to deal with their childhood wounds that you didn't even cause.

As I said in a previous post, love is messy. But it's worth it. Love is beautiful