Messy Syllabus

I read a story once about a man who was happily married and very successful.  He had people flocking to him with adoration.  His wife wisely saw through the superficial sentiment and reminded him that they would be gone if he lost his wealth and fame.

That day came and he was alone.  His wife died.  His dynasty crumbled and left him with no one.

My said dynasty has crumbled on me a few times.  I had invested my time in people who weren't invested in me, thus leaving me with a handful of genuine friends.  These friends sat with me when my son was fighting for his life.  They helped me move out of the many homes I lived in.  They called when they knew I was having a hard time.  They showed up when I was at my worst and had nothing whatsoever to offer them.  And they loved me.  Ugly or not.  Broke or not.  Sane or not.  Single or not.  Lively or not.  They showed up.

I will never forget looking around the waiting room at the PICU and seeing the faces of the ones who showed up.  They didn't speak.  They didn't hug me constantly.  They just showed up and sat beside me.  And let me cry.  Or yell.  Or whatever it was that I was feeling in that particular moment.  They loved me when I couldn't love myself.

Now that I'm older and have a full life with two kids and two businesses and multiple other jobs, my time is extremely precious.  I have to be thoughtful about how I spend it and with whom.  Do they make me a better person?  Do they encourage me to follow what's right?  Do they assist me in conquering my fears and unreasonable expectations?  Are they themselves moving towards something greater?

Do they love me when I'm unloveable?

This is a tall order for anyone.  And unfortunately as Christians we feel it's our duty to be this to everyone.  I was so glad when my Sunday School class didn't show up to help me move.  It restored my faith just a bit in the genuineness of the people in church.  They didn't know me and if they had showed, it would have been out of legalistic duty and nothing more.  It wouldn't have been a true act of kindness.

I think this is perhaps the core of free will.  God gave us the ability to choose Him or not.  We get to choose whether we love Him and how we love Him.  We get to choose what that looks like for us. In turn, when we force ourselves to follow a script, the free will becomes simply a rote task that reeks of insincerity.  And never quite makes that treacherous trek to our hearts because it is surrounded by sterile checklists and agendas.

But when we do act freely simply because we love, the choir in heaven must break into song.

Sincerity and pain have joined together in a song that no one can develop into a syllabus.

And when your dynasty falls, perhaps you'll find just who is willing to get messy with you.