Unrequited Love, Unconditional Love

I think the greatest pain to the heart is when the most is invested for the least return in the context of having the greatest hope that there would be return. At least from my experience. I've never been a parent, but I certainly know what it is to invest in people. I've invested in lots of people. Those under my care in work and ministry. In family and friends. I've invested in acquaintances and strangers. I've invested time, prayer, thought, affection, gifts, notes, conversations, vulnerability, care-- sometimes I literally feel like I've opened my heart up and given it.

That is why it is painful when I hope that a person will change, will grow, will reciprocate love . . . and they don't. But my dilemma lies in trying to evaluate whether this pain is noble or not.

Am I in pain because I love this person so much and want to see what's best for them in their life, and I see their poor decisions leading them to their own destruction?

Or am I in pain because I was disappointed in the hope of a personal return for my love? Did I feel used and the one left with the short stick? Did I love with the condition of being loved back?

Heart, be noble, and let your love be true. No conditions, no returns. This is a tough teaching, certainly it is. Because pain of the heart is hard to bear.

Little Survey

Okay, as I was doing my mom's hair this morning (yes, we have our bonding when I become her hair stylist!), we discussed this concept of "open heart" vs. "guarded heart." We asked the deep question: is it that I fear my heart would be less valuable once I give it out?

I remember one of the greatest things I've learned from my Brazilian students is the concept of a warm heart. They loved America and Americans, but thought that, unfortunately, many Americans were cold hearted. I later discovered that this implied words like: apathetic, closed-off, reserved, stiff, unaffectionate, selfish, quick to give up, impatient. A warm heart implied just the opposite. Someone who felt and showed care deeply, and was willing to sacrifice for other people. I LOVED that concept!! What a great concept for a whole culture to have!!

I want a warm heart!

Well, today, among grading my students' end-of-the-semester portfolios, I actually have 3 "social events": a women's brunch this morning, a coffee at the mall with a friend this afternoon, and dinner with another friend. Sooooo . . . . I'm gonna do a little personal research on what others think about "being open" . . . bring up the topic.

I may do a little Bible research too later tonight on our words, what we share, guarding our hearts. I remember that Mary, Jesus' mother, treasured all the things that happened to her in her heart, and didn't talk about them. What is that about? Is there something to say for discretion? Wisdom in fewer words? Are these linked concepts?

Hmmm . . . off to my brunch . . .

Out There

Whenever I put something "out there," there is that immediate moment that I wish I hadn't. I want to grab it back as soon as it comes out of my mouth. Did I just say that??

I started sharing my story when a teacher in college "felt" that perhaps I needed counseling. I went to a counselor, hoping she could see that certain people in my life were "at fault." Instead, she guided me to discover that I had a lot of anger and bitterness. It was me-- the only person I am responsible and capable of changing. I started my journey of healing. Of giving my broken heart over to a Healer, whom for so long I believed had given me my lot in life because He was angry at me. I've since learned that He cares soo so  much for me. Of course, I could never describe it-- it's one of those have-to-experience-it things!

But yes, I started my blog. And last night, I wanted to shut it down. Delete it all. I noticed on my page profile that I had 63 views. 63 people, whose identity I wasn't sure of, had at least opened my page to view it. Perhaps saw something. Perhaps felt sorry for me. My initial response to pity is a feeling that my life is pitiable. I don't like that feeling.

I have 2 friends that I am in a community with who both shared deep things about their lives to our friends, and then told of similar feelings. They wished they hadn't. They wanted to take it back. One friend wanted to make sure that people didn't assume that that particular part of his life represented his whole life. I get it. I do. We are complex creatuers for sure. I have broken parts, and strong parts. Sad parts, and exciting parts. Weaknesses and failures, but amazingness too!

Soooo . . . today . . . instead of writing in my journal as usual and carefully editing my thoughts, and then gathering my little quotes on index cards that I keep from things I read . . . I'm just going to write today. Write from my heart.

If I share something personal here, I wonder if I am missing out on the sweet friendship that is built when one discloses a secret to a trusted buddy. The public didn't "earn" the right to know that about me. The public isn't trustworthy and safe. I certainly don't want to wear everything on my sleeve. And, as an author and speaker that I like, Beth Moore, is careful of, I don't want to glorify my pain or my past. But rather my Healer. But my question is: Can I put my story "out there"?

I don't know the answer yet.

Hiding

I was my mom’s first pregnancy. She never asked the doctor for the gender, but random people told her she was going to have a boy: by the way she stuck out, carried herself, etc. She later had two sons, whom she loves sooo much. But she secretly, at that time, wanted a little girl. At birth, I was that girl. I was that delightful surprise of a little girl. I was wanted. I was delighted in. What a great way to enter the world! What a great story to tuck in my heart!

I was born in Illinois where there are four seasons, and tree leaves change to vibrant colors in the fall and blow to the ground in piles. My mom remembers me at 2 years old picking up a pile of leaves and throwing them up over my head into the air. My arms stayed straight up, fists clenched in excitement, a wide-mouthed grin and wild eyes anticipating the excitement of the leaves falling back down around me. I loved life!

At four, now in San Diego, I sat with a little boy in a tree (it must have been low to the ground!)  outside of our apartment. I only remember one thing from the conversation (I was four!)—he looked at me and said, “you’re ugly.” I remember my cheeks getting hot. I didn’t know what that word meant, but it must have been something really good. Life was good. I was good. I couldn’t wait to ask my mom. Coming in for lunch, I casually asked my mom what ugly meant. “It means ‘not pretty’ . . . why? Did someone say that to you?” My heart stopped. A thousand thoughts at four years old went through my mind. I had a paradigm shift at four! My world, me, as I knew it, had been beautiful, but now, somehow, ugliness had entered. There was ugliness in the world, and in me. I couldn’t believe it. I was filled with so much disappointment at that moment. Shame. “No,” I assured my mom, “no one said that to me.” My counselor later told me that even at that age I wanted to hide the dirty truth (or what I believed was true) deep inside, and I wanted to protect anyone around me, that I loved, from it. But I knew. I knew the truth now. I was ugly.

Unfortunately, and to my great heart-break, I grew up with an emotionally abusive father. And, unfortunately, watched him physically abuse my mother. More paradigm shifts. The world is bad. The world is ugly. There is no safety. I remember hiding under a rug in the bathroom with the door locked. Where could I hide, physically? Where could I go . . . far, far away? I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave physically. Life like this was “normal.” This was life. But, internally, I hid. I hid far, far away, in a world of my own. A world of beauty and excitement and intrigue and imagination and safety. A world I created all in my own mind. I had a lot of control in that world. Control that I didn’t have in the real one.

But, I also had a heart that believed such things existed. There must be goodness. There must be beauty. There must be something worthy of loving and praising and adoring. Christian psychologist and author Dr. John Townsend comments that “if it weren’t for the Fall, there would have been no Problem #1: that is, no sin—no need for our restoration into the image of God. And there would have been no Problem #2: we would have no need to hide” (Hiding From Love, p. 47). He says that “God never intended hiding to be a part of our lives  . . . God had a ‘Plan A’ for us: a life of unbroken connectedness with Him and each other” (p. 47).

And yet, like Adam and Eve, I hide from God. In shame. Before four years old, I felt free to be known. I was open. I was happy. But after that miniscule event, yet with life- changing implications, I was afraid. I no longer wanted to be known. They’re going to find out. They will all find out the truth, and I believe the truth about me is bad. I hide from God. I hide from others.

Why the darkness? Why the suffering? Why me?

Perhaps the darkness was for a reason: “Stars shine brightest in the long dark night of winter” (Streams in the Desert, p. 163). Not dark as in evil darkness, but dark as in not immediately evident to my understanding. Perhaps this deep hiding (and may I say, suffering) was for an unforeseen purpose? Author Sue Monk Kidd notices the power of darkness to our growth: “Whenever new life grows and emerges, darkness is crucial to the process. Whether it’s the caterpillar in the chrysalis, the seed in the ground, the child in the womb . . . there’s always a time of waiting in the dark.” I wonder if I can use that analogy to compare my life, and time of darkness, as a time of womb- growing, soul- searching, and God- depending desperation. Would I give up those dark times? Those intimate times of whispering with God under the rug? I knew He loved me then. I knew He said He had a hope in me. I knew that my adoring heart turned from adoring a beauty in the world, and perhaps even in me, (that I now saw as broken and ugly), to adoring a good and sweet God that drew me in His arms and whispered love to me.

Sometimes that darkness is for a time, as He works all things together for good on earth. But it could be for the whole duration of time on earth-- a way of life.  That’s scary to me. I’ve experienced the pain (or some), and I’ve experienced freedom from it. I don’t want to go back to it!

I lived on the border of Laos and nearby the dark, military dictator-run country Myanmar (Burma) for a year. I met refugees. I heard stories. Suffering was rampant. Mind- blowing and horrifying. For just about anyone in the country, but especially for Christians. Why suffering? Why is this Your way God? Tender- hearted theologian and pastor John Piper in no way implies for us to go be masochists, but he does see the heart of God in suffering: “God really means for the body of Christ, the church, to experience some of the suffering He experienced so that when we proclaim the Cross as the way of life, people will see the marks of the Cross in us and feel the love of the Cross from us” (Desiring God, p. 269-270). The way of suffering sounds crazy, but is it God’s way? “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:18). Can I let the suffering that happened to me make the Cross and the love of God more attractive to others?

There is healing!

I believe it. I believe God’s heart for me is to be whole! Healed. Complete. Strong. Mature. And to use all of those things for the purpose He has for me. What joy! What confidence! I identify with early 19^th- Century author Anaïs Nin in her quote:  “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” No more hiding!

The Sun Sets--

“And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to Adam and said to him, ‘Where are you?’ So he said, ‘I heard Your voice in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; and I hid myself’” (Gen. 3:8-10).

And the Sun Rises on a Day never to End! --

"Therefore, as through one man's [Adam's] offense judgment came to all men, resulting in condemnation, even so through one Man's [Jesus'] righteous act the free gift came to all men, resulting in justification of life" (Rom. 5:18).

“I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me, And heard my cry. He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, Out of the miry clay, And set my feet upon a rock, And established my steps. He has put a new song in my mouth—praise to our God; Many will see it and fear, And will trust in the Lord” (Ps. 40:1-3).

To Know and Be Known

I was 19, in college, and sitting with a group of girls over dinner. Conversation got a little heated. I can't even remember the topic, but I know that I hated disagreement. As one girl stated her opinion, my kind remark showed that I saw her point of view. Another girl coolly argued her contrasting point, and I subtly agreed. Never did the question enter my mind, "Who do I agree with?" or "What do I think about this topic?" No, my only anxious question was, "When will they agree and return the peace to our table?"

However, I didn't get to wonder that for long. A fourth girl stepped in and called me out, "Emily, you just agreed with both sides. You're like a chameleon!" I was speechless, embarrassed . . . humiliated really . . . and cut to the core. Her statement hit me like a wall, and I haven't really recovered from it since. But I'm glad I haven't.

Who am I? What do I know? Who knows me? Questions like these flooded my mind for the next 9 years.

I've come to find that knowing is a little easier than being known.

"Be still and know that I am God" (Ps. 46:10a) . . . mmm, my heart for knowing Him has grown. Apart from His glory, I think that's the greatest thing I desire (or at least desire to desire!). As I step into His mystery and intrigue, I'm transformed and conformed, amazed and amused, awed and impressed. There's no one else, or any thing else, that I've loved getting to know so much as my God and Savior, Best Friend and Brother, Jesus.

Secondly, to know other people. Wow! I think that the human heart and mind are so complicated, so intricate! My mind often views individuals as a constantly unfolding story . . . and in my quest to know them and their story, I've become a better listener, question-asker, and observer. Nothing pulls at my heart strings so much as hearing someone's true story.

And lastly, knowledge. Okay, certainly, not soul-satisfying as in knowing God, or emotionally satisfying as in knowing people, but it is mentally satisfying! In my MA program, I found that knowledge was a kind of ecstasy. Truly! (almost to the point that I had to question if it were biblical!) I found it fascinating how our brain builds idea upon idea and opens us up to whole new worlds. Yes, I admit it-- I am a combo of one of those nerdy knowledge-seekers, analytical journaling introspectors, and bubbly question- askers. I want to KNOW! I love to learn!

Yes, to know: Him, other people, and the world and ideas (in that order), are a great value and intrigue to me.

But being known-- that sets my heart racing, cheeks red, eyes downcast. I do NOT want to be known. Or at least everything in me tells me that I don't. Vulnerability, opening myself up to rejection and humiliation? No thank you! Or, I'm afraid I will find out the truth about myself and be horrified! Pastor and author John Ortberg observes, "We want to know the truth about ourselves, and we want very much not to know the truth about ourselves. We both seek and resist awareness about the reality of who we are" (Everybody's Normal Till You Get to Know Them, p. 169).

My initial reaction is to push away any urge to be known, but recently, my introspective heart has questioned that, and wonders if it is actually God's heart for me to be known.

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them" (John 10:27a), Jesus says, and later in vs. 14, "I am the good shepherd; and I know My sheep, and am known by My own."

Jesus is talking about salvation here, but I wonder if He's also pointing to intimacy with Him! He knows us. Truly He does. He knit me together inside of my mother. He gave me a soul at conception. What a thought! We are known. We are known so intimately.

"For you formed my inmost parts . . . my frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret . . . Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them. How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them!" (Ps. 139:13-17).

Yes! He knows me, and He loves me! I am precious to Him. His thoughts are great towards me. And I believe that letting Him into those parts of my heart that I sometimes close off to my own anxious "self-care," will actually bring me such comfort! And, I also believe He wants me to trust Him with my whole heart (Prov. 3:5-6) so much that I can be known by others too, without fear. Without fear of being whom He created me to be! Without fear of being a messy sinner, or my broken heart being found out. Fear of being boring and dark and ugly,  or even fun and loving and funny, with desires and hopes and dreams and failures and disappointments. Without fear of being known. Not a figurative geisha: always someone's fantasy and never someone's reality. Known, really known.

WHY?

Well, first, I'm starting to see that my heart really does desire to know and be known! To His glory, I was created for relationship with Him. It's what He desires with me, and it's what I desire with Him. And I believe that my heart does have a deep brokenness, and in that fear I hide, from Him, from others. But He has come to bind up the hearts of the broken-hearted! A broken heart which can only be touched by being known. And we were actually created so that Adam wasn't alone too! Eve was created, I believe, for fellowship, marriage, family. The Body, now, supports one another and is called to unity and love. And I wonder, can we be united and love without knowing each other deeply?

And, secondly, I believe that people trust my heart before they trust my words. I wonder if I am to truly love someone, serve them, even evangelize, must I give my heart? Must I open myself to being known by them? Give them the power to hurt me, reject me? So then, my most precious gift, my heart, is spent for them, and they can trust my sincerity.

Lastly, I believe it is the heart of God to be known Himself! He has made Himself known through various revelations and prophets in the Old Testament, and now by the actual Person of His Son, God Himself, coming, "the express image of His Person" (Heb.1:3). He is mysterious and His ways and thoughts far above mine, and will always be, but He has chosen to reveal Himself. To, in a way, be vulnerable with man. To open Himself up to relationship, and hurt, and rejection. He didn't have to, and certainly nothing I do can diminish His glory, or take from His wholeness, His Godness. But every day that He offers His banquet table to me, and I say that I would rather eat in the gutter with rats, do I not hurt His heart?

Well, here begins my journey to let my heart be knowable. First, by the One who is so good, and then, in His time and loving process, by loving people in my circle of friends, and eventually perhaps even by those who can reject and hurt me.

I hope to prayerfully be real before God, and diligently search His Word for His truth and His wisdom.

God, will You give me courage to be open before You, Your Holy Spirit to open my eyes to truth about myself, Your Word and the world, and protect me from anything satan (or my own flesh) wants to do to bring lies or distortions into my thinking or my heart.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart" (Ps. 139: 23a).

If you did read this blog, thanks for witnessing this journey with me! I invite you to know my heart, and would love to know yours if you want to comment! :)