“It really began in the days when the Love Laws were made. The laws that lay down who should be loved, and how. And how much.”
-from the God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.
I started reading this book for a class I took in Scotland and ended up finishing it for myself. This idea of Love Laws has always stuck with me, especially on the Race where loving in community can be so incredibly difficult. I spent last night on our balcony wrestling with the idea that at some point, my American culture put boundaries on who is acceptable for me to love, has given me a measuring cup for how much love I can give them as if I were parcelling out sugar for a neighbor, has given me a time limit for when loving someone is acceptable. As if they can draw me parameters in chalk and say, “There you go, now don’t cross this line here or here or that one there. Just stay put. Good girl.”
As if I’m supposed to listen.
Yesterday, I sat in a wheelbarrow with children crowded around me. The kids live in the Internally Displaced Peoples (IDP) camp. They had mud on their fingers, their faces. They'd shown up at the church days before wearing the same clothes they had on now. They couldn't pronounce my name for anything. They may or may not have parents who love them. They may or may not go to school. They may or may not ever be able to leave the IDP camp for a better life.
These are the least of these that Jesus talks about loving.
And yet, in all their dirtiness and poverty and uneducation, they are often easier for me to love than my teammates, my squadmates, my family. The reasons for that are simple: these dirty, uneducated kids haven't done anything to hurt me. I don't have any reason to be offended by them.
I'm not right and they're not wrong.
My heart stood up and rebelled at this idea , broke out the picket sticks and chants and began marching around my mind like any self-respecting feminist. It would like to believe that it can withhold love because it's in various stages of brokenness (again). It would like to retreat into the familiar protective shell it's been kept in. It would like to not hurt anymore.
So I asked: Who should be loved, and how? And how much?
I wanted to know what my love laws are. How far does my ability to love selflessly reach? How much do I need to be shown love in order to give it back? Is it true that when someone hurts me, I love them a little less, as this book says? Or do I have a strong enough heart to love them not in spite of their faults, but with them? Not despite the pain that people are apt to cause, but in accordance with it?
On the Race we talk about dying to ourselves, about being selfless and putting others before us, regardless of the circumstance. Let me just say that putting that into practice is painful, humbling and one of the best lessons I've ever had to learn. It's taught me something really important when it comes to Love Laws and loving people well:
Boundaries.
It's meant giving hugs instead of ignoring pain. It's meant serving instead of deliberately walking away. It's meant being kind instead of angry. It's meant choosing to speak life instead of death. It's meant killing my selfish flesh on a minute-by-minute basis.
What it doesn't mean is choosing to allow my heart to be a doormat for just anyone to wipe their feet or their mess on. It doesn't mean putting myself in a position to get burned for the thirteenth time. It doesn't mean pursuing a one-sided relationship. It doesn't mean treating my heart as if it's disposable or unbreakable because, let's face it, it's not.
It doesn't mean not caring, not hurting when they hurt, not rejoicing when they rejoice. It just means that in some situations, I have to love through a glass wall: where I can see and love and pray, but keep a very necessary distance.
The heart is the wellspring of my life. It won't stay that way if I don't protect it, which is the whole purpose of having love laws in the first place. And for the record, my heart is valuable, worth protecting, worth fighting for. It's way past time for me to start treating it like something precious.
"Above all else, guard your heart for it is the wellspring of your life."
-Proverbs 4:23
