The gift of love

Maybe I’m simply not mainstream (no surprise there), but I’m not always on the same page as the experts or even my friends when it comes to movies and books, for instance.  I guess I just want to see for myself, to go in without any ideas bumbling around in my head from anyone, I just want to form an opinion on my own.

I do this with books all the time.  In fact, I almost subconsciously have my guard up when it comes to books that are popular because I’ve had such bad luck with them.  One was a recent Pulitzer prize winner (A Spool of Blue Thread) and I read about 3/5 of it before I just had to call it.  Harry Potter was the same, I read about 1/3 of the first book and just couldn’t do it.  But I read all sorts of weird stuff that I can’t really even recommend to anyone I know (except my mom and sisters) that I absolutely love.  Regardless of what may be well-liked (or not), I’d rather just decide for myself.

And no where is this truer than when it comes to people. I just know I’ve been given the wrong information way too many times.  I can’t tell you how often I’ve heard negative stuff about someone I didn’t know, then I meet her and get to know her and totally love her.

I think we're all pretty good about teaching this to our kids. Be nice to everyone, keep an open mind, don’t judge people by what other people say about them, get to know them.  Read what appeals to you, find hobbies that look interesting to you that match your personality, form your own opinion on an issue or about a class or teacher or person, go see a movie and figure out for yourself if you liked it, fight for causes you believe in regardless of what anyone else says.  Don’t worry about what everyone else thinks.  Give people the benefit of the doubt.  Decide for yourself.

When it comes to people in particular, regardless of what background stories I’ve heard about someone or what kind of talk is going around, I want a fresh canvas, a chance for both of us to decide if we’ll like each other, if we’re compatible, and if we’re interested in a friendship.  And I want my kids to do the same.

Of course I’ve met some peculiar people over my lifetime, we all have.  In fact, aren’t we all a little quirky?  Some have been truly eccentric, a little off the beaten path, I’ll give you that; but I think they like standing out.  I’ve met some that I maintain a large circle around; they sort of scare me (not in a dark alley sort of way, but that I’ll end up offending them inadvertently and get on their bad side sort of way), I’m afraid to get too close.  I’ve met so many soul mates, kindred spirits; I love these women so much.  I’ve met women who are hard for a lot of people to get along with.  I’ve met women who like things done a certain way (isn’t that all of us in one way or another?). I’ve met women who worry and stress about so much in their lives and others who are as carefree as the wind.  I’ve met women who show me a different perspective, who open my eyes to another way of thinking.  I’ve met women who are hiding their insecurities behind a gruff exterior, a fake confidence.  I’ve met some gems, quietly hiding on the outskirts, waiting to be discovered.  I’ve met women who can do anything, who are competent and vocal, strong and almost intimidating.  I’ve met those who like to be in charge and those who like to be led.  I’m like you, we can’t help but have rubbed shoulders with all types.  They’re everywhere.  We’re in activities with our kids, we work, we help out at school and church, we mingle with our kids’ friends’ parents, we socialize with friends of friends, we belong to extended families.  We’re in the middle of it all as women.

But what I’m seeing is we women have so much more in common than we see at first.  For the most part, everyone I’ve met just wants to be known, appreciated, respected, and loved.  They’re just trying to make it through the day like the rest of us.  They love their families, and they have dreams, but it’s not easy.  They—like us—have been taken advantage of.  They get mixed up in misunderstandings.  They get tired.  They’re protective of their tender hearts that have been hurt so many times through the years.  They want to use their talents and abilities that are unique to them, they want to contribute meaningfully.  But they’ve failed and been let down.  They’ve had hard times financially or with their kids or with their extended families.  They’ve dealt with health issues.  Marriage hasn’t always been easy.  Some have built walls, others continue to open their hearts to get broken again.  They’re just like us.

I just think we can assume everyone has a story about why they’re the way they are, and if we could have just a moment’s look inside their hearts, we’d pull them close and embrace them like a mom with her sad child.  Like this young bishop (Elder Eyring).  A (new and drunk) member of his congregation had just driven through the glass and into the lobby of a bank.

“As I waited to speak to him in the bishop’s office, I planned what I would say to make him feel remorseful for the way he had broken his covenants and embarrassed the Church. But as I sat looking at him, I heard a voice in my mind say, just as clearly as if someone were speaking to me, “I’m going to let you see him as I see him.” And then, for a brief moment, his whole appearance changed to me. I saw not a dazed young man but a bright, noble son of God. I suddenly felt the Lord’s love for him. That vision changed our conversation. It also changed me.” Don’t you think?

I remember another women who told of when she was a young mother with a new baby.  She asked God who this baby was, to show her.  This experience impacted her deeply and I’m sure it changed the way she parented.  I know this is something we can all do.  We can ask Heavenly Father to help us see someone we’re struggling with as He does.  We can look past the rough parts and focus on what He surely loves about this person.  No where would this more helpful than in our own families.

In fact, I was just reading in my journal last night about a time I was annoyed with one of the kids.  Not an argument, but just in general because I didn’t see this child moving forward or progressing or even caring (at least in the way I thought he should).  So I prayed about my feelings; and, as so often happens, I opened to this scripture randomly one morning in the temple, “Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.” I got no additional information, no insight, no other answer.  Just an overwhelming feeling of love for my son.

This message from God touched my heart profoundly and humbled me on the spot.  I’m usually so generous with women I meet and know, it’s not hard to love them deeply.  I think it’s because I’ve lived long enough to recognize everyone is struggling with something but that everyone is amazing in her own way, I’m ok with different, I know I’ll find something I love about her.  But I hadn’t been as kindhearted in my own family in this instance. How tragic, but what an incredible lesson and reminder that love—his kind of love—is always and forever the answer. I'd forgotten.  Or maybe felt so frustrated and hurt and discouraged that I let those feelings overtake the familiar unconditional love I have for my family. But that morning in the temple, reading words meant for me that day, changed the way I saw my role as a mom. As strongly as I believe it's to teach, my highest calling is to love.  As a mom and as a friend.

Usually in families that's a given because we know each other intimately; and, because we’re privy to the back story, it breaks our hearts when people misjudge our children or us or our parents.  We wish we could tell them the whole story.  The nights we’ve cried together.  The things we let go so that we can focus on the bigger things.  The talks we’ve had with our teenagers and the choices we allow them to make on their own.  All we’ve been through together.  What they’re really like inside.  That they’re doing their best. If that’s true in our families, don’t you think everyone has a similar story that maybe they just can’t share?  Maybe it’s all too tender or sensitive, or maybe they’re respecting a child’s privacy or trying to put it behind them, maybe they think they can’t trust us because we seem too judgmental or different or distant.  I just think we’re more similar than we appear, whether we're adults or kids, families or friends.  We’re all mostly just doing the best we can. 

I’ve noticed that when I’m quiet and thoughtful about a person I’m struggling with, when I humble myself enough to ask God about it, always a loving feeling comes to mind.  Not my natural inclination or what I’d like to say or do, but more along the lines of how God would respond.  Sometimes I’m irritated because I’m certain I understand the situation and I know exactly what response is warranted, I don’t want to be nice, she is mean just like everyone’s told me.  But if I can just quiet myself long enough to ask God what he thinks, he opens the curtains and shows me some things I wasn’t privy to before.  It might be as simple as an impression about something she may be worried about, it might be a question he sends to my mind, it might be a clue in a conversation within a short time, some new information.  Overwhelmingly, it’s a warmth, a feeling of love. He simply asks us to trust him with the details of his children’s lives and to try to see them and love them like he does.