Knowledge vs. Love

Every morning, after reading a chapter or two in the Bible, I flip through and read a few sporadic verses. Sometimes those verses speak to me. Sometimes they encourage. Other times they convict. This morning’s blew me away: “…But while knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church. Anyone who claims to know all the answers doesn’t really know very much. But the person who loves God is the one whom God recognizes.” (1 Corinthians 8:1-3) 

In this, Paul was talking about food sacrificed to idols and by church he means people, not the place some of us go on Sunday or for weddings and funerals. I specify the church thing because I never realized that before attending The Movement. 

I promise this isn’t about meat, which I don’t eat. Of course I’ve written about that, if you’re interested.

Man, I take a long time to make a point; here we go: Sometimes we get so caught up in logistics, and rules, and answers, and figuring things out that we forget just to love God and each other. I cringe hearing people spew hate and judgement in Jesus’ name or under the guise of “defending the Bible.” Seriously? Are we so arrogant to think God needs us to stick up for Him? I’m pretty sure the Creator of the Universe is solid. And even if He did need our help, hate certainly would not be the approach He would encourage. He might tell us to Love and Serve. In fact, He did.
 
The last few days I have been praying almost without ceasing because every time I think of my daughter and can’t talk to her, I pray. Lord, keep her safe. Lord, guide her steps. Lord, I’m scared. But the more vulnerable I am, the nearer to Him I draw, and the nearer He feels. This season of my life is completely out of my control. Rather than fight it, I am choosing to surrender completely, and in my surrender, God reaches out to me. I imagine Him saying, “There you are. Now we can make some progress.” 

Last week during OAA’s, my son complained every day about the stupid things he had to learn and why did it matter and algebra sucks, and why do we need to know this, and holy crap, I forgot how rough it is to be a teenager. However, in some ways I agree with him. We spend so much time trying to impart knowledge and skills to make our kids successful in this competitive world that we neglect to teach them love, compassion, and respect for others despite the fact that the latter lessons will undoubtedly serve them better in the future. I have never used Algebra a day in my life, but I interact with people every day.

So today, I’m gonna trade in knowledge for love. Instead of trying to figure people out, I’m going to encourage them unconditionally. Today, instead of making a snarky remark, I’ll speak love. Today, instead of rolling my eyes at someone’s self-congratulatory Facebook post, I will see beneath the bravado to someone striving to feel validated. I might be a complete jerk tomorrow, but I’m gonna really try not to be today 🙂

Peace out.

Dear Lord, My Baby Boy is a Teenager.

This weekend, my son turned 13. That was bizarro. It means he’s only 3 years younger than Brad was when we started dating. It means that soon girls will think of him the way I thought (and still think) about his dad. That makes me throw up in my mouth.

He’s just a little boy; right? He still crawls in my lap and snuggles with me. He still wants to hang out with us and doesn’t think it’s queer to go on a date with his mom. He’s not embarrassed by the notes I put in his lunch. A couple years ago he told me someone made fun of my note in his lunch, and I said, “Well, I’m sorry his mom doesn’t love him as much as I love you.” But I asked him if he was embarrassed, and I told him it would not hurt my feelings if he didn’t want me to put notes in his lunch. He said, “No, Mom. I like your notes.”

But very soon, he’s not gonna be a little boy anymore. He goes to high school next year. Surely, I can’t put notes in his lunch then. And I wonder if we will still be able to gush over him. He is the only boy in a family of strong female personalities. We love loud and expressively. We hug and kiss and gush.

My husband gets really uncomfortable and embarrassed when the womenfolk in his family gush over him. It generally only happens at events that serve alcohol; nevertheless, it happens. See, we were both pretty invisible in our families, so now when they “see” us, it’s awkward. For a long time, we only saw each other. For a long time, that was comfortable. It’s still comfortable when it’s just us. We see each other, and we are happy in that world.

Once, we lost a group of friends that meant a great deal to me. I cried, and Brad said, “We were fine before, and we will be fine again. All we need are the people in this house.” Our circle has grown to include others, but he’s right: If we just had God and each other, we’d still be just fine.

But someday, my boy is not gonna live in this house. Someday, my boy is not gonna need me. Someday, is his wife going to have to remind him to call me? Is she going to suggest that he should send me a card? Is she going to dislike me? Will she think I’m crazy and possessive? Will she think that his sisters and I are too overbearing and keep him away from us? Will he decide that he just needs the people in his house?

I don’t let myself go down that road too often, but I actually pray a lot about my son’s future wife. I pray that she will love and cherish his tender heart. I pray that she won’t run over him or take advantage of his gentle nature. I pray that she will appreciate and encourage him. I pray that she will want to be part of our family. I actually have a lovely young lady picked out for him at church, but I guess that might be overbearing. Course, if that happened to be God’s will, I would surely rejoice. This is the time where I imagine God shaking his head at me. Lovingly, of course.

In the meantime, I will keep praying and doing my best to cultivate a relationship that will stand the tests the teen years bring. And I will still snuggle my son every opportunity I get. I will ALWAYS cheer the loudest at his games and try to restrain myself from hurting anyone who hurts him. I prayed so much for him during the years I tried to get pregnant, and I didn’t stop when I had him. My prayers just changed from please to thank you.