“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
C.S. Lewis
I just returned from a road trip to Oregon and broke all my rules of limiting phone screen time. I daydreamed in the passenger seat for 8+ hours*, occasionally changing CDs, asking “first date” questions, adjusting my neck pillow, brushing off potato chip crumbs, and slurping the dregs of lukewarm cold brew.
* Elyse, the driver, is the real MVP. She also wins an award for impressive dance moves and stellar sing alongs.
At one point, I fumbled through my notes app for old songwriting lyrics to play with. I was particularly interested in a love song I started writing last fall.
I couldn’t find it. Rats.
But I came across this.
“Self is the price of love.”
November 27, 2015, 8:21PM
I usually have some faint memory of the origin or setting of the note, but this one escapes me. Perhaps it is prophetic?
Regardless, I think it’s fitting that I stumble across it now (the craziest season of these 23 heart-wrenching, gut-twisting years).This truth comes at a most brilliant time.
A time of letting go of my plans and ideas, especially concerning friendships and relationships.
A time of pressing into the pain of losing (perceived) control.
A time of clinging to steadfast hope, the promise of better ways and better days, as my only salve.
Lately, I have spent much energy thinking about love. The essence and substance of L-O-V-E. Who do I love? Who should I love? Am I expressing love? What does love look like from afar? Does love require letting go? I type this one with a big *gulp*… Do I really have to let him go?
WHY IS LOVING OTHERS SO HARD?
A: Self is the price of love.
Everyone wants love.
At least, to receive love.
At best, to give it.
But the transaction cost is heavy. It’s major. It’s costly. Self is the price of love!
You must give, sacrifice, and invest the self (the empire of the individual) for love.
We live in a culture that often disfigures love. We want love, but we also want to maintain and preserve the self. We want love, but we don’t want the risk. We want love, as long as we can perceive, control, or manipulate the outcome.
So… the result is a lesser, perverted, unsatisfied love. It’s no wonder so many of us feel empty and live out of our appetite for pleasure and affection. Love hurts too much.
But friends, real love is worthy of the pursuit. Real love does satisfy. And until you drink of it, your thirst will not be quenched.
The paradox is that we must relinquish the self to experience love. When we lay down our lives and take upon the death and resurrection of Christ, we begin to realize it. Love has less to do with the self, and more to do with the beloved.
Love is a losing game.
It’s messy and painful and hard.
It costs absolutely everything.
Love is worthy.
Love is God.
God is love.
Let God love you.
In sum,
Love is not affection.
Love is not romance.
Love is not safety.
Love is not security.
Love is a choice.
Love is sacrifice.
Love is prioritizing.
Love is serving.
God, teach me to lose myself to real love.
