"Love well."
I've heard that phrase a lot during this journey. I've heard my squad-mates say it over and over…to the point of exhaustion, if I'm being honest. But don't get me wrong, I absolutely agree. I say love until you are worn out. Love until you can't give anymore. Love even when you aren't going to receive anything in return. Love until it hurts.
…right?
I have loved in ways and to a degree that I never dreamt possible the past three months. But lately…lately I've had to ask myself a brutally honest question:
Is it worth it?
To a certain degree, part of my implied job description as a quote "missionary" is to love people. I love them by caring for their needs. Visiting them. Praying for them. Assisting them through whatever means our ministry has laid out for us. I love my team by giving them encouraging feedback and helping them throughout the day.
But something I've realized on the World Race is even though my daily life has essentially set me up to show love as I live in community with my teammates and serve the people in our ministries…it's still easy to miss it.
It's still easy to settle for cheap, ordinary love.
It's easy to love just enough to get by.
But loving to the point of having something to lose- that's a choice. It is a choice I am faced with every morning as I start a new day.
This month, I had the privilege of working alongside an amazing small group of Nicaraguan believers- mainly high schoolers-who are the foundation of Nueva Vida church. Somehow, over the course of the month, these people surpassed the place of being the "ministry people I will care for and hang out with for the month"- and became…family. Internal alarm bells started to sound as I realized I was investing in these relationships and this place beyond the "safe" zone- for my heart, that is.
I began to struggle with the fact I was giving an overflow of love away, only to leave at the end of the month. I started to wander…am I truly helping? Or am I only hurting?
In our final moments of Nicaragua, as we all said our goodbyes, the friend who stole my heart this month- Jason- hugged me, and through both of our tears, he began to thank me for each moment I spent with him. For attending his award presentation when his parents couldn't. For praying for him. For going to school with him. For playing soccer with him. For helping him with children's ministry. For taking him to lunch. For getting to know and spending time with his family. And a million more. Moments I didn't realize mattered so much. Moments that only happened because I chose to let myself love these people past my breaking point.
As the bus rolled away from the faces of everyone I had grown to love, the lingering question of "was it worth it?" remained in my spirit. I had the privilege of seeing the fruit of the love I gave during the month, and the love I received…but still, the fear remained.
And I soon realized the Father wasn't done breaking me yet.
Between Nicaragua and Romania, my squad stayed together in Costa Rica to find out team changes. As I opened the envelope with the names of my team members for potentially the next 8 months- I saw the names of 5 new women (expect a blog introducing them soon!). Five women who I would be living in community with and walking through this crazy life with. My heart was excited and expectant. I love change and new adventures. I knew He was putting me where I needed to be. God had been preparing me for a new season- and I was ready.
But the next thing I know, I am standing in a Romanian airport having to say goodbye to my former teammates as they headed out to their respective ministry sites for the month. Suddenly, waves of grief rushed over me and the tears began to flow. I became that girl, the girl of dramatic airport goodbyes.
What was happening to me?
To be perfectly honest, as the month has gone on, I have been in the most difficult season of my Race. Leaving my team- the team I have walked through the past 3 months of life with- felt like leaving half of my heart behind. I felt guilty because I love my new team immensely- but my heart ached for my sisters. My family. It is hard knowing four of them are still together, moving on without me. I have cried more times than I can count. But one of my new teammates, in the midst of all my tears, and through my more difficult moments- (ironically) brought me back to those same words:
"you loved well"..the tears…the heartache…it just means you loved well. And that's a beautiful thing.
The grief is okay.
The pain is worth it.
The heartache is evidence of loving hard. Of loving freely.
…and she is right.
I will never settle for ordinary love again.
After a week of walking in a fear of loving too much, I looked at my new team, the five beautiful women I have been blessed to walk with, and realized I had a very important decision to make.
I can see our time together as temporary. I can live with an end in sight and keep up the walls that would prevent me from loving too much, of letting these girls become family. I can save myself from more pain down the road.
But I choose love.
I choose reckless-abandon-vulnerable-never-ending-im-giving-so-much-I-have-alot-to-lose...love.
It comes down to the same question: is it worth it? Really?
I've decided yes. I've decided to love the same way the Father loves me: beyond all measure. I've decided to quit looking at the end, and live fully in the moments I've been given with the people in my life- whether it's for 5 minutes or 5 years. I decide right now it is always worth it. It's the only thing thats worth it. I choose to always love above and beyond what is simply expected of me. I want to overflow. And there is NO fear in love. None at all. So what am I waiting for?
I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
"…and though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing." -1 Corinthians 13:3
