Originally Published: June 8, 2019
My family situation has been difficult lately.
The other day, my mom had borrowed my phone for a few minutes to talk to my cousin. In the middle of the call, my girlfriend, Kamal, called me–a photo of the two of us, faces pressed together, flashed onto the screen in my mom’s hand. My mom didn’t I know I had a girlfriend.
Whether the conclusion came to her right of way or not, she (outwardly) gave me the benefit of the doubt and asked who this girl was. A knee-jerk reaction–I told her she was just a friend. Mom persisted, and I, more hesitantly, maintained the lie for a few moments longer. Then I confessed. She’s my girlfriend. “What is she” –what nationality–she asked. Guyanese. Have you told her that you love her? Yes.
Mom was furious. She was, is, and has been determined that I marry a Tamil girl, and in her mind, nothing can change that. The conversation ended there, but the trouble didn’t. My mom didn’t say anything more to me on the subject, but the news has spread through the family. Soon after, my sister confronted me about my relationship. Under the impetus of my mother, she demanded that I break up with Kamal, setting an ultimatum that I either end the relationship or suffer the nondescript but nonetheless dismaying consequences.
That was over a month ago, and the air is still tense.
1 Corinthians 13 tells us a lot about the character of love. Verse 13 says that “Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.” This is the passage I sent to Kamal to help calm her anxiety when I told her about the incident with my mom.
Sometimes, it feels like this kind of love asks for more than I have to give.
Don’t get me wrong–I love Kamal so much. Telling my mom that she’s “just a friend” made me feel as though a rooster was about to crow. But the star-crossed lovers schtick loses some of its romance when you remember that both Juliet and her Romeo died at the end of that play.
Love for one another that shows the world that we’re disciples is a pretty hard concept to tackle when you live in a world that isn’t a fan of the “love” or “disciples” parts.
In the last post, I focused a lot on self-care, and how the peace that Jesus brings can free us from our own destructive tendencies by showing us how to properly care for ourselves. The thing is, it’s not just us that overwhelm us. Not the most revolutionary idea, I know, but sometimes it needs to be said that life gets to be way too much. Honestly, the past few weeks I’ve not been feeling myself and have been dreading life in general.
These things have to be said though in order to really understand what God’s peace means. I reference Peter and his awkward fireside chats from Matthew 26 for a good reason. Life had gotten way too much for him as well. Jesus–his best friend, spiritual leader, and Messiah (even though poor Pete didn’t quite grasp the concept yet) –had been arrested, and the next few days didn’t look good for him. Peter had pretty much given up his whole life for Jesus, only to defend him hours earlier in Gethsemane and be rebuked by Jesus for his violent zeal. As he stood at the fire outside the high priest’s courtyard, those words would have seemed like the last words his friend and king would ever say to him.
So of course, he said he didn’t know Jesus. Would you have done anything different?
We like to look at scenes like this and picture ourselves valiant defenders of the faith, championing Jesus and refusing to back down like eight-year-olds with their chests puffed out in Sunday School. But really, what I’ve seen–and what I’ve done–is quite the opposite. My love has given up in the face of fear. My love has lost its faith and its hope. My love has reached the limits of its endurance and lain down on the grass beside the track, gasping for breath.
But God’s love isn’t like my love. That’s the good news. That’s the Gospel.
God’s love does not give up, lose faith, lose hope, or reach its limit. God’s love comes back for Peter–back from the grave even–to show that redemption is a reality. God’s love changes heart and opens eyes. God’s love forgives failed lovers like me. And God’s love works through me and you to do “infinitely more than we might ask or think.”
Because of this, we come back around to peace. You may remember that that’s why 1 Corinthians 13 came up in the first place–to bring some peace to an anxious girlfriend. The peace that surpasses all understanding comes from a love that surpasses all of our limits. In the times of discomfort, confusion, and failure, this love and this peace go hand in hand.
I don’t feel comfortable living at home. It’s unfortunate but it’s true. The lies that have webbed me in for so long still find strength in the small world of our apartment.
Yet, I can remember the peace that reframes discomfort, and I can see the love that redeems it. Thank you, Kamal, for showing me that love. Thank you for the example you set. Thank you for letting God love through you.
Lows are part of life, Christian or otherwise. Most of us seem like we’re doing fine, but everyone has their own battle internally. Don’t underestimate the hand of love you can be to those around you, but most importantly, remember who that love belongs to, and that he extends it to you as well.
Lean into love. Fall into peace. He won’t let you down.
Confessions from Crickets 