There’s something truly unsettling about real love. Upon discovery some people completely give up on the real McCoy and just chase down the margarine substitute. Some try to change the rules of the game. Others simply rebel to be rebuffed over and over again.
You can’t earn or deserve love.
It doesn’t stop us from trying, of course. If we can earn it or deserve it, then it’s due to us.
Bills are due.
Babies are due.
26 Page papers on philosophy and theology of worship are due…. in about five weeks….
But we cannot be entitled to someone’s love.
So what do you do when you receive it? I mean like really receive unconditional, power filled, foundations of the universe’s blueprints sort of love.
I snuggled Leo first thing this morning. He got out of bed waaaaay too early. He climbed into my lap, popped his thumb in his mouth and nestled in. He wasn’t as close as he normally gets because his chest port is currently connected to the tubing that feeds his meds at the hospital. We do day four of four today this week. We arrive, check in, and wait for an hour while the pharmacy cooks up his meds. We’ll watch a show or steal an iPad from the play room. They call us in and in about five minutes he’s been treated for the day. Today they’ll peel/rip the protective plastic off around the port and remove the access tubing for the weekend. It’s bitter sweet. He hates the tape coming off. He loves to swim.
As we looked this morning at my phone, I asked what he saw. Real sheepishly he replied “my shirt.”
So many of you have supported us and championed for us through buying the Leo the lion shirts and posting your pictures in here. You’ve taken us to the east coast, and the Deep South, the Midwest and the Pacific Northwest. You’ve taken us on vacation to exotic places. To church, and youth group, and HIM conference.
And frankly I’m so overwhelmed by what I experience as real and potent love that I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want to make an awkward moment by pointing out your clothing choices.
I don’t want you to think it wasn’t one of the first things I noticed.
I’m nearly 38 and I still am stunned to stupor, silence, and awkward stillness by real love.
I kissed Leo on top of his head and he pulled his thumb from his mouth. He looked up at me with his mother’s eyes and my obnoxious smile.
“I love you, daddy.”
“I love you too.”
Thank you everyone.
We love you too.