That's amore? Woah.

Sometimes these days, it feels like I’ve been swept into a whirlwind. Days are swirling by, leaving a trail of debris on my heart.

There are lots of ways to say “change.” There’s the mild “modification,” mechanical “adjustment” or “remodeling,” clerical “amendment.” None of these describes what’s happening here and now in the middle of this glorious storm; what I’m marveling is not beige and nor is it of my own doing like a mark in a ledger or a shift in a schedule. This thing is forcefully mysterious, like a rip tide.

So what’s got me disheveled with a grin on my face? I’m knowing love, my friends. No, there’s not some dude I’m gaga over. I’m googly-eyed over a family and shocked to find myself in a tailor-made little spot in the middle of it all.

This is a shock because, while my natural family never withheld the expression of love, somewhere, I came to believe I was not right for anyone, not good enough, not worthy of esteem. According to my own estimation, my quiet disposition disqualified me from attention, my simple gifts were less valuable than those of others, and my fierce affection for others scared them off. And I began to say “no” to who I am.

There hasn’t been a single moment of shifting; instead it truly has been like being in the middle of a force of nature, with multiple things in flux at any given moment, nothing in its rightful place. Then, things come to rest, and I realize I know something new in the very center of me.

I know that to accept the identity God has given me means that I accept some limitations. I can’t be everything. It’s ok to not be everything. Geez, thank goodness! Something in that understanding broke a heavy burden on me, and gave me permission to receive what the Lord gave me long ago and to be who I am. I read this and think, “Well yeah, duh!” but there’s sure as hell a difference between knowing that in your head and believing it in your heart. To be able do the latter is a gift, a rare treasure.

So that’s really floaty and abstract. The way it plays out is with people. For the last four months I’ve been in consistent relationship with two groups of people: one, a group of learning leaders we refer to as the Collaborative. The other is my house church, primarily made up of artists and art students. In both of these groups, I’ve been challenged to expose myself, to risk loving other people in words and deeds. I sincerely thought, in my inmost being, that I would be ignored, rejected, or found a failure. How can it be that for years I have lived under that assumption?

The actual reaction has been the opposite.

Heroes have hugged me tight. Beautiful men of amazing character have told me they love me. Culinary geniuses have fed me with love. Busy pastors have listened to me and prayed for me. Brilliant artists have treasured my likeness with their pencils. It’s baffling, undoing, and altogether good. Because I do the same, with all joy.

It’s a marvelous exchange, a righteous reciprocation the likes of which I never dreamed. And yet, here I am, upside down in the middle of it.