Unrequited

Unrequited love

One side takes and takes and takes. And takes some more. On the other,  is a choice to be love when someone is unable to accept it.

This is something I know well from my time at Canaan. Unrequited love should be a subtitle of ministry, especially when that ministry is concentrated on the children of abuse and neglect.

It has taught me that love is not only a choice but a gift to give when you may not get anything back but the insecurities and brokenness of another.

I have one student who my heart instantly cried out too. I knew there was an ache in him but didn't know from what. Over time, I learned that he was the product of abuse. My student was more than likely shamed by the abuser for the actions done to him. Just a child. Just a boy. He has kept on the shame even as he has come to a place like Canaan. A place of "liberation".

When he fails at something, I am to blame. The one whose love is unconditional is at fault.

Late last week, he didn't pass a test. His resentment or disappointment was placed on me. That night during homework help, he lingered around me. As he waited for me to turn toward him so that he could tell me he hates me, God gave me more insight about His love for us. His love of brokenness. At one of the last "I hate you"s of the night, I told him that I loved him. He repeated his sentiment towards me but I told him I didn't care. That no matter how many times he tells me he hates me, it won't change the fact that I can love him. That I want nothing more than to love him. He responded that he didn't want anyone to love him. I said it wasn't his choice. It was mine. I could choose to love him every day. 

Oh, how He loves us.

It's not that his words didn't sting. They did. Thinking back on them, they still do.  Unrequited love pricks your heart over and over again. But love is a choice. It is a choice that God has made since the beginning, to love for the sake of love. It is a choice to show gentleness and patience. Meekness. Joy in the face of shame.

That's the love that Jesus gives. I will fall short of showing love the way that He does but maybe that's to beat my flesh, to take my ego out of my work here so that I cannot boast in it.

If my student continues to tell me he hates me and I can keep my cool, it is definitely not on my own strength. I won't be able to boast at my own doing. It will have to be by grace alone. Grace in the form of love that is continually, eternally pouring over me.

It's taken a while to share this. The next day following this interaction, he apologized. Today, over a week late,  I got to celebrate with him for passing three difficult tests. I even got a big hug.

Unrequited love, sweet love.

1 Corinthians 13

13 If I speak in the tongues^[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,^[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Psalm 19

Psalm 19 

³ There is no speech, nor are there words,
    whose voice is not heard.
⁴ Their voice^[b] goes out through all the earth,
    and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun,
⁵     which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
    and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.

 As I sat in church yesterday, I longed to be taught. I longed to understand what the Creole being spoken meant. I felt lonely, frustrated, and a little angry that I was separated for my community. So, I started memorizing  the monthly verse my students have to memorize. I told them that if they had to memorize it then I should too. Sitting on my uncomfortable, rustic pew as the fans pushed hot hear around me, I started going over Psalm 19.

As I read Psalm 19 over and over again, overwhelming gratitude came over me and this response followed:

"Thank you for your word. Thank you for its infinite languages. There is no speech nor are there words whose voice cannot be heard.

Your word is Haitian. It is American. It is all. Perfectly. Sufficiently.

Thank you for your multicultural forgiveness. The power that it holds in every language. The freedom that is gives to every tongue. It is all. Perfectly. Sufficiently.

Your ear does not favor one over the other. It favors those that call upon you and your son.

Thank you, savior.

Mesi, sove."

Each week we pick a different word to teach our students. This week is optimistic: looking on the bright side.

It's ok to feel lonely, frustrated, and angry. Jesus felt those things too. But with the word of God we can see the bright side of things promised. We can be a tent for the sun, shine light and run our course with joy.

Matthew

Some part of me wanted to see the force of Matthew. We had prepared and planned and anxiously anticipated his arrival. On the night before he was suppose to arrive, I woke  up at every rustle of the trees or moan of the wind hitting our door. It was a restless night of sleep anticipating his strength that would bear down on us. I knew it iwa God who created the storm and it was His might that we would experience when Matthew arrived.

At first, I wrestled with relief at the impact we had and a little bit of disappoint for not having seen what we had prepared for. However, our preparation was not in vain. We could not point to it and say "we are safe, we have food, and we have water because of how we prepared". No, we did not redirect the storm's path and place the mountains and land perfectly around us to protect ourselves from its damaging rain and winds. We can't look back and say "it was because of us". To God be the glory.

Allow me to be a little vulnerable. There was something I wasn't prepared for. 

As I was getting ready for bed last night, I realized my fight against the storm was not yet over. The enemy was bearing down on me with all his might. I had just experienced God's protection and provision in a different way than ever before. Regardless, everything about me was being questioned and attacked. Fears, doubts, and insecurities weighed heavy and I felt the full impact of my brokenness. I couldn't do anything but fall to my face, cry, and pray. I thought of the story of Jacob wrestling with God and asked Him to help me wrestle with my brokenness. To help me understand my name in Him.

"Stand firm. You just witnessed something beautiful, My protection. Don't listen to what the enemy tells you. I am sovereign. Everything that brought you here is by My design. I am using it all to draw you deeper, to stand firm in your identity in Me. I want to give you a new name and let you own it so that others can be sure of Me. There is no sacrifice more pleasing than brokenness. Your full self.  Full of ache and longing.

I will mend your heart. I will shape it like mine. I will place desires in it to know who I am. Knowing the name and character of the great I AM will fill every crack in it. There will still be scars because My son has scars. On His wrists, ankles, and sides are reminders of the beautiful sacrifice. The cosmic wound is cosmic love that is sufficient for all brokenness. Your wounds share in his wounds.

Let it draw you in. The brokenness.

Reach out and touch his scars. Believe.

Reach out and let Him touch yours. Trust.

Your broken heart is the ultimate sacrifice. Hand it over."

And then I had the best night's sleep.