What is Love? (Part 2)

…Alternatively, I could open wide my front door and invite them in for some biscuits and a cool drink. This would demonstrate my desire to get to know them, and hopefully, this would melt their hearts, so they wouldn’t fight anymore. It would also encourage them to trust me, rather than fear me. My dear Child, this is what I did. And now I have a great expectancy in them coming to see me. They can’t wait to come to my house and tell me about their day, and sometimes they even ask me about mine! Surprisingly, they asked me to forgive them for fighting and breaking my rose bush!

You see, Child, love doesn’t try to make a relationship happen, but it opens wide the door for the possibility of one. Love stretches out its arms in a gesture of welcome. From all the letters you’ve sent me over the years, I can see you are learning a lot about love. You used to live loving the law, but now you are living the law of love. Living according to what you thought was right made you judge others according to your standards. You mistakenly believed you were living a higher standard than the ones you were judging. That was the way you controlled them. The letter of the law kills, but love brings life. Love is a verb, not a noun. It is always active, living itself out in practical ways, not wanting to be noticed.

You have met some of my sons and daughters, but you didn’t get a chance to meet them all, because you moved from home at such an early age. I’m sure you remember my eldest son, Josh. I was especially fond of him. I know you weren’t around when it happened, but I remember writing to you a few months later. Although it was many, many years ago, I can remember that day like it was today. I had written several letters to people like you, who live all over the world, and I needed to post them. Josh was home from school and he saw how occupied I was with writing letters, so he asked if he could do anything to help. Instead of stopping and going to post the letters myself, I decided to keep writing and gave him the ones I had already finished to take to the post office. He was happy to do that, and decided since it was such a nice day he would walk.

I was sitting at my desk that looked onto the street, and could see him on the driveway about to cross over. I also saw our next-door neighbour’s child on his bike. He was heading down the driveway too quickly to stop before reaching the road. Josh saw this, too, while noticing a truck coming at a very high speed. Racing towards the child on the bike, Josh threw himself in front of the bike, but was not able to stop the truck from hitting them. I ran outside, only to see my Josh lying lifeless on the pavement, blood splattered everywhere. The child was also lying on the ground whimpering and still alive. I picked up Josh’s dead body in my arms, his blood covering my hands. I gently laid him on the grass and went over to the child. Seeing that no bones were broken, I picked him up with those bloodied hands and gave him to his parents, who had come running out of the house. As I turned around I could see those letters scattered all over the road. I went over and picked them up, one by one, Josh’s blood staining them. I sat down next to Josh’s body, and felt like I had died that day. The truck never stopped and I found out later the driver was drunk.

What’s interesting is that only a few days before, Josh and I were having a conversation about death. A subject most people avoid talking about, due to its uncertainty, but ironically, its great certainty. I had given Josh a scenario about having to die in order to save someone. I asked if he had to make that choice, what would he do? Without any hesitation, he said he would die for that person, trusting he would have the courage to follow through. Then I proposed an even greater challenge, asking if he would die for someone who didn’t deserve it? Again, without hesitation he said he would be willing to die for such a one. He added, and I’ll never forget his words, “Father, when that happens to me, I hope that you would forgive them.”

A few days after Josh’s death, I went to the post office with those blood-stained letters and posted them myself.

You see, my dear Child, the question you need to ask yourself, and I would encourage anyone who wants to know about love, is not what is love? But rather, Who is love? Child, I am LOVE and LOVE is Me!

Love,

Abba Father

(Taken from “The Treasure Within” book by Kathy Gooch; Chapter “God is Love - Love is God”)

What is Love? (Part 1)

The following letter is from someone I’ve known most of my life. He is a personal friend of my family; and although very old, he’s become very dear to me. I can’t remember how old, but he isn’t into emailing and stuff like that. He has what we call a “home help,” and he dictates his letters while she types and posts them to me. I really respect him, and in many ways he’s been like a father and mentor. I ask him questions in the letters I write. He’s always so good about answering them—helping me to understand life. This is what he wrote to me not so long ago, and I thought it worthy of sharing with you.

My Dearest Kathryn,

I was so excited when I received your letter in the post the other day. I love hearing from you and finding out how you are doing. From what you were describing, it sounds like you are facing many challenges that are providing opportunities for growth. I particularly appreciated and was honoured when you asked me a question about the true meaning of love. Now there is a question, that through the centuries, much has been written about, sung about, laughed about, cried about and even fought over! The answer to “What is the true meaning of love?” is like a treasure hidden that only those who have a genuine desire to know will find. As you seem so interested in knowing what LOVE means, I will share with you my thoughts.

Love in its highest and truest form is absolutely selfless, sacrificial, giving and expecting nothing in return. It always prefers, considers, thinks and does for another over and above itself. Love is passionately committed to the well-being of others. It takes no thought for itself. Love reaches out to those who don’t deserve it, and doesn’t wait to be loved back. It keeps giving unconditionally.

So many people confuse love with a feeling, but love is really a choice. For love to be love it needs someone to give itself to. It cannot exist on its own. Love chooses to limit itself in order to foster and nurture a relationship with the one loved. Kathryn, remember how you taught nursery school children? When you played a game with them, you purposefully pretended that you didn’t know how to play, allowing them to explain the rules, and even letting them win. You wanted them to learn that it wasn’t about taking advantage of another; rather, it was all about love and respecting each other—enjoying a relationship.

True love is never about elevating oneself. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. It’s about choosing to limit itself and choosing to serve. It doesn’t highlight what is lacking in someone, but what is favourable in someone. Love from its great height calls, woos and encourages the ones it loves to come up higher, and shows them the more excellent way of getting there. Love covers a multitude of sins and provides the remedy for it. While people may naturally experience fear, pain or demand their rights; love casts out fear, heals the pain, and surrenders its rights.

In fact, love has no rights. Many people believe that by maintaining their rights, or even fighting for them, they will find freedom. True freedom is not found in holding onto, but in letting go of what we think belongs to us. Living according to our rights is living independently and love does not live independently, but interdependently. When we live interdependent we live in true relationship. Love is about laying down your life for another.

I once heard a story about two goats meeting each other on a narrow bridge. They were both head to head and there was no way to get around. Heads down and horns up, they butted against each other to push the other back in order to get across. With both horns’ locked, neither was getting anywhere. Finally, one decided that not just its head needed to be lowered, but its entire body. It bent its knees and laid down for the other goat to walk over it to the opposite side. Child, love would far rather bend down, than raise itself up. Love washes feet.

You know how much I love sitting in my big recliner chair that faces the street. From there I watch the children go back and forth to school. It’s like I’m watching the world go by. The funny thing is they can’t see me watching them from behind my lace curtain. I’ve witnessed many fights between those children, and often, it is over one trying to get back what belonged to them.

I remember one day two boys were fighting over a basketball. One of them threw it into my lovely rose bush, breaking it. How was I going to sort this out? The easy solution would have been to buy both of them a basketball. They would each have their own, but would that end their fighting? No. I realized it would only foster more independence, more selfishness, and even more conflict. I could also lay down the law and tell them how to conduct themselves on my property. This was not the answer either, as it would only force me to scrutinize their every move. Then they would probably fear me, rather than develop a healthy respect for what I value…