I grew up in a home where I knew the unconditional love of my parents—both of them. My dad and my mom. I didn’t call them Mom and Dad; I called them Mama and Papa. They called me Melissa. The truth of the matter is, as I sit here writing this, I can’t even recall what they actually sounded like when they would call my name. I can’t even recall them calling out for me, and it makes me very sad. But what I do remember—and still cling to to this day—is the way they loved me. The effects of their love have kept me going and kept me optimistic all these years. Now, the years of being and living outside of their home and their influence have begun to overtake the years I dwelt in their presence. What an incredibly different realm—what a different world—this now is.
It’s not that in these years of living outside my parents’ home I have not been loved. It’s just that it has been a different kind of love. The love I encountered in my father’s house was truly unconditional. It was without judgment and incrimination, although there were expectations—expectations of me knowing, receiving, and accepting the love being given. My parents seemed to expect of themselves this love for us, for me. They gave this love so naturally, so easily! Their love not only gave flight, it gave wings. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t do, anywhere I couldn’t go. They didn’t speak those words—“You can do anything!” or “You can go anywhere!”—but it was just there. It was just known. It was in their very presence. Their presence spoke love. They seemed to expect that we would know we were loved by them.
But they didn’t leave it there. My father spoke it often. He said it out loud with words. But he showed it daily in the way he moved. He wasn’t a very outwardly, physically demonstrative guy. As a matter of fact, I asked him once if he didn’t like hugging or being hugged. He simply said he liked to respect people’s personal space. I asked him, “So you don’t mind being hugged?” He said he did not. So I began hugging him more often. And to just push the issue, I would hug him and hold on a bit longer. He would just pat my back and say, “OK, OK!”
As I type this and recall this scene, it brings a big smile to my face. The very interesting thing is that although he wasn’t outwardly demonstrative, the love he held toward us—for us—emanated from him in a powerful way. I was loved. I was accepted. I was treasured. I was cared for. And this love had nothing to do with my performance. It was the kind of love that said, “I love you simply because you are.”
I hope I was able to give my children this kind of knowing of my love for them.
I hope I was able to emanate this kind of love to all those I came in contact with outside my home.
I know now that this kind of love comes only from God Himself. It is supernatural. It is bestowed upon us all, but it is also cultivated by choosing to walk in it. But what happens when a person has never experienced this kind of love in their growing up? Can it still be cultivated? Can they still demonstrate or emanate it?
I believe that by the grace of God, we are all able to walk in this kind of love. As a matter of fact, we are all not only able to but commanded to walk in this kind of love.
“Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
—Matthew 22:37-40 (NIV)
A commandment is something that is commanded. The commandments are directives or orders given by God, intended to guide behavior, and are considered authoritative and binding on those who believe in Him. Commandments are seen as rules or principles that believers are expected to follow.
And yet, since leaving my earthly father’s household, I have encountered more unkindness and unloving actions from “believers”—those from the household of my Heavenly Father—than anywhere else. Why is this? Scripture is loud and clear on the issue of love. Jesus said elsewhere:
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
—John 13:34-35 (NIV)
This is to be our testimony, our witness.
Webster defines witness as:
• one who has personal knowledge of something
• something serving as evidence or proof
Our love for one another is to be the evidence—the proof—that we are disciples of Jesus Christ, ones who have personal knowledge of who He is.
How then is it that we suffer from the lack of love from our own Father’s household more than anywhere else?
Friends… better stated, family!
Family, how is it that I am starving for love? How is it that you are dying of starvation from the lack of love? How is it that we, the household of God, are not filled up with the love of God and overflowing with it onto one another and those around us in the world? I believe the answer is not complicated. In fact, it is quite simple.
Cultivate it!
How?
Walk in it. Every day, choose it.
• Choose to love!
• Choose to receive the love the Lord has given you. Accept it from Him and let it overflow onto those around you.
• Choose to forgive.
• Choose to be kind.
• Choose to say nice, kind, encouraging words rather than the bitter, biting, ugly words you usually choose.
• Choose to love!
Comments