—1 John 4:10-11
I have been giving a lot of thought about love. God loved us, and so sacrifices for us, focuses on us. I tried my best to do the same in my marriage, and still try to do it with my children. But the more I think about God's love and trying to actually create room for that type of love in my heart, I feel more and more inadequate. I come to realize more and more that I really haven't the least idea how to make that love a part of my life.
I worry about love and my capacity to love anyone freely again, let alone a spouse. I did the best I could once, let go of my fears, and it wasn't enough. What if it can never be enough? How can I try to give all I have all over again after so painfully recreating something to have in the first place?
I think about Christ, suffering alone in the Garden of Gethsemane and hanging alone on the cross, feeling abandoned by His Father, and not knowing in that moment if anything He gave would be enough to save anyone. Not even knowing if one person would appreciate what He was doing, giving His all.
I can see that Christ's love is not a love that comes with any expectations, not even the expectation of acknowledgment. Broken and lonely, He "finished [His] preparations unto the children of men."
I am afraid to try to love others, to serve others. If I open myself up enough to be responsive to their needs, the tight bands I have wrapped around my pain will burst all over again. And I am thoroughly sick and tired of vomiting out my emotional ugliness.
But then comes the image of the Savior again, crying, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" and I know that somehow, broken and lonely and afraid, I have to find a way.
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