Love Hurts
To love is a tricky thing. Many people are quick to use the word to describe their feelings for things that cannot reciprocate. I love ice cream and espresso, but they cannot love me back. The word is somehow sacred yet overused as an indicator of affection for things more often than for people. I’ve caught myself choosing other verbiage when it comes to showing my affection for people. Maybe because love feels like a monumental thing, or maybe because I’m trying to protect my heart. The truth I have learned is that love, while monumental, is the very fuel for someone who loves Jesus. To love Jesus is to love people.
Loving someone with the knowledge of future heartache at saying goodbye or being hurt by their actions is something I am all too familiar with as a teacher. I remember when I was a student teacher I tried to tell myself it would just be easier to love the students lightly—to not give my whole heart to them. I soon found that is nearly impossible when you spend time with someone for hours a day—even someone who doesn’t like you. Each school year I have had to open my heart to a new class of students, and out of 130 students, I have said forever goodbyes to 100 of them. 100 little souls whom I loved with my whole heart, prayed for, celebrated with, and taught. I cannot imagine doing it any differently, though, because to love and lose is far better for me than to not love at all.
While I was at Summer English Camp in Hungary this summer, I found myself almost immediately saddened by the thought of leaving and saying goodbye to all my new friends and the students we were serving. Honestly, I was a little annoyed, because it felt so dramatic to be sad about leaving people I’d only known for a handful of days. Then I was reminded of the quote from C.S. Lewis: “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to 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.”
I feel like this camp opened my eyes to the power of Christ-like love. The power of a love that unites people who most likely would not naturally get along. Truly this supernatural, uniting love gave me a glimpse into heaven, but in heaven there thankfully won’t be goodbyes and love will not hurt. This same beautiful love is the love that hurt as I considered the pain of saying goodbye. However, this pain and beauty were only possible because I had dared to place my heart out in the open rather than neatly away in a coffin.
It’s not an easy thing to do. One could argue that it would be easier to put up walls and choose just to love people at a surface level and not deeply. Maybe it would be “easier” for my heart, but not really. This summer, I would have missed so much if my heart had been guarded the whole time. So, I encourage you that no matter where you are, dare to open your heart.
Feel your feelings and love people the way Jesus did. It will hurt, and love is risky. Jesus, being our example, loved no matter what. He knew full well that Peter would deny him from the very day he called him, but he never once held back his love. He knew Judas would betray him with a kiss, yet he still washed his feet. He knew he would hang on a cross for those who did not even show him kindness and still chose to love. We, as Christians, are meant to imitate Jesus, the purest example of love. And, even with the knowledge that you will encounter pain, open your heart, love like Jesus, and see the beauty as you journey.
