Chasing After Me

“Should a church continue to support and enable through exclusive partnership a secular media company that publicly supports anti-Biblical causes?”

I just read that quote on a blog.

And it hit a nerve.

Anti-Biblical causes? Where, exactly, does one draw that line? Last I checked we are given a cause in the New Testament. It’s LOVE. That’s it. Just love. Big love. The God kind of love. Love and nothing else.

Now, this particular blog didn’t outline what they believed to be a Biblical cause. But the framing really bothered me because it’s another way that religious institutions are disengaging from culture…another way religious institutions are becoming irrelevant to the people who need to hear that our God is a grace- and love-filled God.

If LOVE is the biblical cause we’re talking about…then there are probably millions of causes that fit that bill…more than many Christians may ever want to admit.

Here’s the thing…God works through more than people who call themselves Christians…He works through more than just religious institutions. God is bigger. Religious institutions do not have the corner on the “do good” market. But, if religious institutions reach out beyond their comfort zones, they just might tear down walls of judgment that have been erected between people and religion. They can live LOVE and give LOVE…not because they’re trying to earn stripes on their heavenly uniforms, but because LOVE literally lives inside of them. And, I think that is the point when a religious institution really turns into a people who are Christ’s Church.

…LOVE is the cause…

“If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” – 1 Corinthians 13:1 (NLT)

Love leads the way… and it’s what we leave behind…

“Are you one of those ‘love’ people?”

“Don’t you go to that ‘love’ church?”

“I know you believe in love, but…”

Yes. Yes. And there are no “buts.”

It seems a month doesn’t go by without at least hearing these questions a few times.

To me, it’s a strange question. It seems to me that the deep-seeded desire of every person is to be loved. I believe that much of the hate and hurt in the world comes from a unwillingness to let ourselves be loved, and an unwillingness to love. And, maybe it’s because I can’t imagine life without love…I believe with all my heart that love, true unconditional love, brings life…I believe that life and love are inseparable.

Some might call that idealistic.

I like to call it human.

Jesus told His disciples that people would know they were His followers because of their love…not their knowledge…not their eloquent words…not their theology…not their morals…not their performance…not their judgment on others…but because of THEIR LOVE FOR ONE ANOTHER.

God IS love.

A couple weeks ago when I was volunteering with some Bloom friends at The Family Place in St. Paul, there was a moment. A moment when I realized that I’m on this journey filled with love and grace with many other people. A moment that was like a rally cry. A moment that was all about love and letting others feel love.

When Bloom set out to connect with organizations in the community, we never set out to tell people about Jesus. You heard that correctly. We’re a church hellbent on loving and serving when we’re in the community, not tossing out a soapbox to stand on and scream from. Why? Because we want to be known by our love…true, overflowing, unconditional love.

I believe it’s because LOVE is what matters. I believe it’s because LOVE speaks louder than words. I believe it’s because LOVE helps people love themselves, despite their mistakes. I believe it’s because LOVE connects with our spirits and our souls in a way nothing else can. I believe LOVE speaks its own language, one without words. I believe LOVE always wins.

After all, if God is Love, and I believe in God…then logic says my belief in love is undeniable.

“My name is Natalie. N-A-T-A-L-I-E. I’m four-years-old. What’s your name?”

“It’s Dawn. D-A-W-N.”

“Hi Dawn! I’m going to call you ‘friend.’”

And she did.

In the hour I spent with that sweet little girl, she called me “friend” probably 50 times…every single time she spoke with me.

I guess if you need a quick reminder of what really matters you should just ask a homeless four-year-old.

She didn’t care about task lists, finances, work, material items or even family drama. She cared about relationships.

Relationships built on a Jesus kind of love. Maybe Natalie didn’t know it was a Jesus kind of love. But I have no doubt.

You see…Jesus loved me through Natalie tonight. Natalie decided to be my friend. She didn’t know me, but it didn’t matter. She smiled at me. She hugged me. She held my hand. She wiped chocolate from my sleeve. She carried my dirty dishes to the kitchen. She introduced me to her family. She shared a million stories with me.

When you think about it, it’s totally backwards. You see, Natalie is one of eight kids. Her family has been homeless since October. She and her family live out of their car and at shelters. She was excited about getting a pair of shoes today that actually fit. Her entire family has to believe in the goodness of people and the goodness of God working through people to see hope for tomorrow.

I was supposed to be there serving her! Yet, she wanted to be a friend to me. Take care of me. Love me.

She probably never will know how much I needed that friendship tonight. She probably never will know that she made a permanent imprint on my heart. She probably never will know that Jesus loved me through her.

Her unconditional love reminded me of the importance of letting what Jesus pours into me, pour into the lives of others…a love that is unconditionally compassionate…a love that smiles at strangers…a love that genuinely cares…a love not impeded by worry or selfishness.

Thank you, Natalie. Thank you for becoming a piece of my heart. Thank you for reminding me what really matters.

And, God, thank you for Natalie.

* * *

Natalie and her family just found out that they’ve got housing. They’ll be moving into a newly remodeled apartment within two weeks. Thank God. You should have seen how excited Natalie’s mom was…seeing her excitement nearly brought me to tears.

The Family Place is a day shelter serving homeless families in St. Paul, Minn. The majority of their guests are children. Forty-seven percent of the homeless in St. Paul are children and teenagers. Often, their families have lost their housing because of medical emergencies, job losses and even landlord defaults and condemnations. They’ve unexpectedly found themselves in a new and difficult world, a world where hope and dignity are pushed aside to make room for daily survival. My church, Bloom, partners with this organization to serve their guests without agenda.

I’ve always loved people. I’ve always loved loving people.

I think most people do. I believe most of us love loving others because it’s literally what we were made to do.

I’m not talking about ooey-gooey sappy Valentine’s Day love. I’m talking about the compassion that oozes out of you when you surrender your entire being for the cause. To the point that you can’t stop thinking about others, praying for them and feeling what they feel. To the point where mere thoughts of people and their joys give you butterflies or when their struggles bring you to tears. Even when you don’t know them.

Frankly, I’m incapable of loving like that. But the desire to love like that is keeping me up at night. I can’t even sleep. All I can think about is this crazy love.

Eight months ago, I loved people. But felt some restraint…like loving them might take up too much time, energy or mental capacity that I didn’t have. I wanted to have it…but I didn’t have it in me. Eight months ago, I was also in the midst of a deep, self-reflective period of my life. What I was doing was no longer fulfilling…and all I could wonder was whether or not there was more for me. I’d gotten so wrapped up in all of the cares of everyday life that I was only living, not LIVING…with little time left to love.

Some might look back at that period of my life and think I just needed more time. But, the reality is, I had it all wrong. I was working hard to live AND love…when what I really should have been doing living TO love. See the difference? It’s huge.

I love loving. But loving became overwhelming when I saw it as a responsibility, even if it was fulfilling. My capacity was tapped. I wasn’t sure how I could love anymore with the life I was living.

I can’t put my finger on when I actually realized what was happening. My frame gradually shifted. I started to do more and more with a completely different mindset. I began working for clients with a genuine compassion for their businesses, returning emails, phone calls and scheduling meetings didn’t phase me anymore, because I just wanted people to know how much I cared about them.

I try not to over-spiritualize this blog, but be clear on this: this desire to love is divine. Not human. The only way a desire to love like this can grow is by realizing that you’re imperfect, and loved anyway.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not boasting. Because I screw up all the time. The point is though, I’m busier now than I’ve ever been in my life and somehow have found capacity and energy to do more. I now know it’s because the “AND love” has been replaced with the “TO love.” Loving is no longer an extra. It fulfills me. It fulfills others. And then it winds out of control…and that’s ok…because having a crazy out-of-control love is probably the best thing that could happen to all of us. A lot of world problems and issues could be solved if people would take the time to care about others and then put that love into action.

I just finished reading a book called Crazy Love, by Francis Chan. In there he points out something pretty profound:

“God’s definition of what matters is pretty straightforward. He measures our lives by how we love…but Paul writes that even if ‘I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing’ (1 Cor. 13:2-3). Wow. Those are strong and unmistakable words. According to God, we are here to love. Not much else really matters” (p. 93-94).

Wow. Loving isn’t my job. Loving is my life.

I’m no bible scholar, but was reading in Romans 12:11 where it says to “never be lazy in your work, but serve the Lord enthusiastically” when something struck me. The placement of that verse. Do you think it’s any coincidence that the two verses prior to that are about loving others and most of the verses following that one are about loving and serving others? Could it be that the “work” Paul writes about there is your job to love? I’m just saying…

Think about replacing “AND love” with “TO love.” We don’t need more capacity. We need a new frame.

I know how it feels to get wrapped up in all life is throwing at you. You know, the times when it feels like you don’t have time to care about anyone because you’re too busy focusing on everything you need to get done for you, your job, your home and your checklist that has nothing to do with real people. Since you’re too busy to breathe, they should just know you care without you saying anything, right? You really do care, but you just don’t have time to say so. Don’t deny it. I know I’m not alone on this one.

Last week, the tables turned on me.

My dad went into the hospital with kidney failure, pneumonia, emphysema, severe dehydration and a bad case of alcohol withdrawal. Wasn’t pretty. In fact, it was horrible.

One morning, I thought the dad I’d known all my life was no longer. He could barely speak. He didn’t know who I was. He couldn’t eat. His oxygen levels were crazy low. He was hallucinating. He didn’t even know what a straw was or how to suck on one. Doctors were talking feeding tubes, ventilators and nursing homes.

I felt very alone sitting next to him thinking about how alone he must have felt. Feeling as if there were only a handful of people who cared. I assumed people were thinking that his lifelong struggle with alcohol and smoking brought this on, and that it was just too bad. I just wanted someone to care about him as much as our family did. I just wanted someone to see the amazing man beneath all of the struggles. It was as if walking into that hospital room that morning sucked the life, joy and hope out of me. I just sat on my dad’s bed holding his hand and swallowing tears.

Until Muna, the cleaning lady came in…

Muna’s smile was one of the most peaceful and encouraging things I’ve ever seen. She asked about my dad and our family. She mentioned how good he must feel because she could see that he was loved. She said he was too young to not get better. She came in several more times that day, sometimes to work, and sometimes to check on our family. In moments when there were no words, Muna just smiled. Muna visited with all of us throughout the week. We learned about her family, about her jobs, her dedication to her children and, without her saying so, we learned how much she cared for people.

Muna’s visit was just the first encounter with undeserved compassion.

People proved my assumption (about people not caring about my dad) dead wrong. Thank God. Despite his downfalls (as all of us have), loving souls gave him grace and showed how much they cared.

Throughout the week, people our family hasn’t spent time with in 15 years showed up at the hospital to love on my dad. Well wishes poured in from all over the world, and even from people whom we barely knew. Amazing reliable friends checked in on my dad as if he was their own dad. The compassion brought out smiles from my dad that I hadn’t seen in 20 years. Real, genuine smiles.

The powerful thing about taking the time to care about people is that it strengthens their faith and gives them hope. After Muna left the room on that horrible morning, I felt better. I felt hopeful. I felt relieved.

Caring for others is powerful stuff. You might not have time to visit a hospital or make a meal for someone, but that’s OK. A few words go a long way. And when there are no words, a smile or hug makes all the difference…not just in the way a person feels, but in a person’s desire to keep going.

Three days after that horrible morning I described, Muna popped in as she always did. I introduced her to my dad. She just smiled and said, “he’ll be going home very soon.” She was right.

I’m pretty sure that our entire family never felt as cared about as we did that week. I’d really love to get in my dad’s head, I’m sure he’s still trying to process the Jesus-like compassion and grace people showed. The compassion gave all of us faith. Better yet, it gave dad faith. He’s home now…and committed to getting better.

We’ve all been placed in this particular place and time for a reason. Don’t miss out on the chance to be the “Muna” for someone else…be the one who cares…the selfless act doesn’t take much…and it can change an outlook on life. Literally.