One Statement Three Ways

My dad is a very sentimental man. So when I came downstairs on Friday morning and found him crying at the kitchen table, I wasn’t surprised. He was doing his morning devotion and had just read something that deeply moved him. In typical dad fashion, he read aloud what had touched him and I listened in typical Deanna-to-Dad fashion—which meant that I continued making my breakfast and not appearing terribly interested in what he was reading but really taking in his every word and inwardly smiling at his impromptu theological discourse.

Something that he read that morning made its way into my mind and became the source of my own theological ponderings for the past week. Quite simply, he read, “I love you regardless of how well you are performing.”

Sarah Young, the writer, wrote this statement from the perspective of Jesus talking to the reader. She wanted her readers to know that they were loved regardless of their actions and that even though we are to strive to live holy lives we are not going to be disowned when we fall short. I get that. And it is a comforting thought and a wonderful message for the “recovering perfectionist” that is me. But it’s totally not what I heard when my dad read the statement on Friday morning.

What I heard was this:

If God loves me regardless of how well I’m performing and I am supposed to love with the love of God, then I, likewise, must be able to look at people in my life and say, “I love you regardless of how well you’re performing.”

I love you when you don’t act like I think you should act.
I love you when you don’t write when I think you should you should write.
I love you when you don’t show up when I think you should show up.
I love you when you forget about something that’s important to me.
I love you when you take your frustrations out on me or hurt me.
I love you when you need to take space from me.
I love you when you’re absolutely ridiculous and refuse to believe that I am right .

I don’t mean to put expectations on the people in my life. But I do. And I therefore accidently set myself up to feel resentment…

So all week I’ve been telling myself, “I love you regardless of how well you’re performing,” and all week I’ve found my heart opening toward content grace.

Then, yesterday, while listening to a book about Rwandan genocide and the atrocities that led countless people to question God’s presence in the killing of 1,000,000 people in just 100 days, I suddenly found myself flipping that statement on its head again by saying aloud to God, “I love you regardless of how well you’re performing.”

There is a lot about God that I do not understand. I don’t understand how or when God chooses to intervene in the natural world order and when God allows God’s created world—including human beings—to do its thing. I especially don’t understand why some people are miraculously healed while others are not—even when prayers for healing are being prayed by hundreds of people each day. Don’t get me wrong. I get that good can come from all things and that little sparks of light can be seen even in darkness. But that doesn’t mean that I always understand God…and yet…I can—and do—still love God…regardless of my understanding of God’s “performance.”

“I love you regardless of how well you’re performing.”

Thanks, Dad, for sharing this thought through your morning devotional tears. I know you weren’t really talking to me when you read this statement, but…I know you mean it...and...I love you, too.