Greater Love...

Imagine entering a guilty plea for 1st degree murder in a state where the death penalty exists. The court sentences you accordingly. There is no hope of obtaining a reprieve from the governor the night before your execution is to take place. In the middle of the night, a guard comes and unlocks the door and escorts you through the front gates, where he proceeds to tell you, that you are now free to leave and go home. You are confused and wondering why? How? What? But you are too afraid to question the guard, for fear that a mistake has been made and they might figure it out, so you just walk out.

Freedom smells sweet as you walk along the sidewalk. Suddenly, you begin to feel hungry and stumble upon an all night diner, so you walk in, sit down and order something to eat. You decide to read the morning paper while you wait for your food to be prepared. The front page headline reads "Murderer freed and Innocent slain." You rub your eyes and can hardly believe what you've  read.  There is your name in black and white along with someone else and he has been executed in your place. You read on. Apparently that someone chose to take your place and let you have a second chance. You never had the chance to meet him, much less thank him. What would compel someone to do that you wonder?

In the Biblical account of the trial of Christ, the religious leaders of the day were trying to find a way to convict Jesus of any crime, so that they could get rid of Him. They felt threatened by Jesus's claims to be the Son of God. Even the Roman authorities could not find fault with Him.  But to appease the religious leaders and the crowd, they gave them a choice. They could choose to allow a murderer named Barabas to go free or Jesus. They chose Barabas.

I sometimes wonder what went through Barabas's mind that day. Did he feel loved in that moment? Did he consider the excruciating death Jesus would have to suffer on the cross? Then I wonder if he changed his ways or if he went back to his old ones.

Jesus is quoted as saying  "Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13) But Jesus went even a step further, by asking His heavenly Father to forgive His enemies, the ones crucifying Him.

Whether you believe Jesus is who He says He is, one thing is for sure. There is no denying His sacrificial love for His fellow man. Because of this, I feel immensely loved.

To Be Known...

Whoever coined the phrase, "To be known is to be loved" could not have been more accurate. In fact,when this blog's (soon to be infamous;) question was posed to my bff Vida, she responded by saying: "When people genuinely want to know me...".

I couldn't agree more. Have you ever been asked the question "How are you?" only to be cut off mid-sentence because the person was just being "polite" and wasn't really interested to begin with? Have you ever posed the same question and received an ear full of information that you weren't bargaining for?

The need to be understood and accepted seems to be innate in all of us, but an equally driving force is the fear of rejection. There is an indescribable comfort and relief that is achieved when all of your skeletons have shown their bony faces and the other party hasn't even flinched. It is one thing to be accepted for talent, good looks, or wealth, and an entirely different one, when those things are lost and the other person is still standing beside you.

A few years back, V and I attended a small Bible study group. V decided to leave the small group for reasons she only disclosed to me. One of the group's leaders was troubled by this and asked me why she was leaving. At the time, I thought the leader was mature enough to handle those reasons. I was mistaken. The stormy triad that ensued could have ended my friendship with V; but, because she knew my heart, and trusted my intentions, I retained one of my most cherished relationships. I am so grateful.

One of Vida's favorite tunes, is a song that was sung by Jackie Wilson, entitled 'To Be Loved.' Motown legend, Barry Gordy Jr., co-wrote the lyrics, "Someone to care, someone to share, lonely hours and moments of despair, To be loved, to be loved, Oh what a feeling, To be loved."

                                                                V and Me

Labor and Delivery

There are many ways I can be made to feel loved, but one of the ways I feel loved, is when I hear three special words in a sincere tone of voice: "I am sorry." Growing up under a "Christian" roof, one would think that forgiveness and apologies were as common as skinny jeans on a hipster.

I am sorry to say, that that did not happen. I was as much to blame as everyone else. I don't remember ever giving or receiving an apology in those days, or seeing anyone else receive one. The way my family chose to deal with conflict was to wait it out. Each party would go to bed angry and wait a couple of days til the storm blew over. Is this too personal? I digress.
 
A year ago my younger sister Katie, allowed me to witness and video the birth of her second daughter Selah. The labor was long, and at times, I thought, too intense. In the end, through all the pain, tears, blood, and screaming, a beautiful baby girl was born. A range of emotions were experienced that day, but none compared to the overwhelming love we experienced once she was safely here. Every negative event that was experienced, was insignificant in comparison to that moment.

Fast Forward.
  
The inspiration for this blog was conceived from a particular negative incident that happened while I was on vacation in L.A. I was visiting my older sister Sarah, and we were having a sharp disagreement over the itinerary for that afternoon. I wanted to relax in the hot tub and I can't even remember what she wanted to do. After a short exchange, she made a derogatory comment about my activity choice. This cut deep, but then she apologized soon after.

I was stunned.

Instead of filing the incident away in the usual grudge x infinity files, I decided to deposit it into the love bank.  Like the relief that is achieved when a button pops because you've eaten too much, was the liberation I received from the breach in that steep wall of pride I tried to support. I now felt the freedom to say I was sorry as well.  Healing was allowed to enter. I could not have felt more loved that day, if my sister had purchased all of my meals and activities. Our relationship still has alot of maturing to do, but that moment is indelibly imprinted on my heart.
  
I labored over the idea of whether to create this blog or to do something a little "safer" and less expository. I may do that eventually, but my heart is here for now. I don't expect this to always be hard or always easy. I would like to say, that I have no expectations at all. But as there are pains and joys in labor and delivery, so I expect to experience them here. I expect to laugh, cry, and hopefully grow through this experience.

                                                                  Selah