It’s about time
to take down the Valentine décor on the shelves in the dining room and replace
it with symbols of spring and summer yen.
I love my Valentine display, not just because I’m a romantic and crazy
about the man in my life, but because love is an every-day thing.
For
those of you who don’t have a special someone, this blog isn’t about
romance. It isn’t about courtship or
marriage. It’s not about loving our
kids. Nor is it about being special to
someone - or finding that someone special.
It’s not about a mission trip to a home of orphans in some foreign
country. So if you’re concerned that
you might (again) feel lost and lonely by reading this, I’d venture to say you’ll
be okay if you read it to the finish.
This blog is about the greatest Valentine that was ever
given and the power of that Valentine’s heart to change the way I love. Yes, I said love – not live. (But then, changing the way I love does
change the way I live)!
Love is not an emotion.
It’s a verb. It’s action. And it’s a choice. The 13th chapter of I Corinthians
describes the things that love doesn’t do
as well as the things it does. Love is not proud or boastful; it is not
haughty or selfish. Love believes in, and
hopes for, the best. It bears all things.
It endures – all things. Listen
to this description from the Philips Translation of verse 4: “This love of
which I speak is slow to lose patience; it
looks for a way of being constructive.” Shazam! Whether a person is single, married, divorced, or widowed, love is a choice. Whether we’re relating to a friend, a spouse, a child, a sibling, an enemy, a boss or a co-worker, love is a choice. I have to admit, however, that the flush of feeling that comes with loving someone is a quite a bit more enjoyable than the work and conscious effort it takes to do love.
I’ve learned a few
lessons, experienced a few trysts with this verb called love. I realize now that I’ll never fully arrive
(until I get to Heaven). I know that
each lesson prepares me for yet another obstacle in my way. I also have learned that doing my homework
right makes it easier to keep from failing the next time a test comes my
way. It doesn’t matter where we are in
life; each of us faces our own construction zones.
Some of us are easier at demolition than building. Some of us can bulldoze away without thought
to the landscape we’re destroying. In the crumbled rubble of life, love looks
for a way to rebuild and restore what has been lost or destroyed. Our foundation must be Jesus – and building
on His principles can make for some glorious rejuvenation along the way. I’ve had my fair share of upheavals – whether
by my own undoing or someone else’s.
When I’ve paused to look at the debris around me, I’ve always had a
choice: to continue to tear down or to re-build. Love chooses to build. It looks for a way of being
constructive. 
Nearly forty years
ago I was dating a guy who was quite popular with other gals. While I didn’t question his care for me, I
struggled with feeling jealous and envious of those other girls who would have
liked to date this guy. One day in my
feeling inferior misery, I decided to read that chapter in I Corinthians and
apply it to those feelings of insecurity and jealousy. Changing my attitude and doing some work in this area was the only way to handle this, or I was going to be one miserable
gal. I started practicing the simple
principle of building patience and being
constructive.
Amazingly, a friend told me months later how
much she admired me for my seeming unselfishness in allowing this guy to be
such good friends with other girls. It
wasn’t without some pain and work, mind you.
I not only needed to not say anything negative to folks, I needed to
respond in positive ways to them. The price of my emotional freedom was worth
the effort it took. That unsolicited compliment
told me I had accomplished what I had set out to do: love unselfishly.
Some thirty years ago I found myself rubbing
shoulders with a nurse who was difficult to like and even more difficult to
work with on an eight-hour shift. I
dreaded going to work when I knew Dorothy* would be on my shift. One never knew what kind of mood she would be
in, and jumping through hoops to avoid her moods took our best focus off our patients at times. Unfortunately, I allowed myself to be sucked
into discussions by fellow workers whose dislike for this person was even
greater than mine. At times I allowed my
emotions to be governed by co-workers, some who professed no faith in Christ. Sure,
I knew better, but it happened so easily and without my noticing the deepness
of the swamp. I allowed myself to get
caught in the fray and become part of the I-Don’t-Like Dorothy club. I knew I
wasn’t relating to her as Jesus would have liked.
One day I decided it was time to get real about my
faith, and I opened my Bible to that
13th chapter in I Corinthians. “This love of
which I speak is slow to lose patience; it looks for a way of being
constructive.” I asked God to help me be
slow to lose patience with Dorothy, and to find a way to be constructive. He did.
As it happened, both of us applied for a
position that guaranteed a promotion.
She got the promotion, so you know who didn’t. I didn’t mind so much not getting the
position because she had ten more years’ experience than I; what bothered me
was that now she would not only be a co-worker but my superior as well. I don’t respond well to dictatorship and knew
the days ahead could be difficult. It’s one
thing to say nothing negative; it’s something completely different to look for,
and find a way, to be constructive.
But that evening, I felt a nudge from God
that I could not ignore. My spirit knew I needed to call Dorothy, congratulate
her and offer her my support. I tried to
find excuses: I’d tell her next time I saw her at work; I’d write her a note
and give it to her later. I kept feeling
that prod from God banging away at my conscience. After all, hadn’t I asked Him to help me find
a way to be constructive?!
Sometimes doing business with God reminds me of
Jacob wrestling with an angel. Driving
home from town later that evening, I wrestled - verbally - with God. I had my reasons not to call her and I
thought they were pretty good ones. I told Him so - gave Him every last reason I had. He
would not leave me alone. I could still
take you to the curve in the road where I finally said Yes to Him if I could find her phone number and if she answered the phone when I got home. It is not surprising that I found the
number, and the phone only rang twice before she answered. The building of a relationship began when I congratulated her and offered her my
support. I’m sure she was as shocked as I
was.
You can’t imagine my surprise the
next evening at Kroger, standing there in front of the meat department (I could
take you to that spot, too) when a co-worker sidled up to me. For certain, I didn't tell anyone about that phone call, but she apparently did. “That was a hell of a gesture you did calling
Dorothy last evening,” she said. “Oh, it
wasn’t a hell of a gesture,” I replied, remember that curve in the road when I finally gave in to God.
“That was from Heaven alone.”
(And yes, it made all the difference in the world.)
Did my emotions change drastically? No.
She still had that abrasive personality, and others were still
frustrated by her attitude. I had to stay away when the I-Don’t-Like-Dorothy
club met. I had to keep looking for ways
to be constructive. Yet because I
looked, I found those ways in ordinary situations at work. We never became close friends, but the wall
had come down, and a new building took shape in its place.
Twenty years ago, our
kids were frustrated with their PE teacher.
They were half-afraid of him; he was gruff and strict, and they just didn’t like him very much. For that matter, neither did I. The kids came home from school with tales
about his remarks and the way he disciplined for misbehavior in his class. His birthday was coming up, and would you
believe he told his class that he expected them all to bring him some cookies
for his birthday?! We made the cookies – two different kinds, to be exact. Mind you, my kids weren’t in favor of this
idea. Had it been left to a vote, I
would have been outnumbered, hands down. 
What my cubs didn’t know was that this mama
bear was also frustrated. She didn’t
like anybody upsetting her cubs and would have as soon told that teacher so as
to bless him with baked goodies. This mama bear also knew that there was a
better way to deal with her frustration.
So we made the cookies, not so much for him as for the bear and her
cubs. The morning of his birthday, I
sensed a little excitement in our den as we packaged the cookies along with a
birthday card. No, they didn’t want to
write a birthday card either. They didn’t think
it was necessary. But I knew it was
necessary – not so much for him as for us.
The card needed to not only wish him a Happy Birthday, but it had to
tell him thank you for being their teacher.
I can’t tell you exactly what happened that
day in school because I wasn’t there, but my cubs came home excited -- and all
of our attitudes were better. After
that, he didn’t seem as gruff as before.
Maybe they discovered that, underneath that rough exterior, there was a
heart that did care for kids. Or maybe they
sensed that his gruffness was a cover-up for loneliness. Was it he who changed, or did we?
Ten years or so ago, I learned – again - to
put patience into practice—when I chose to look for a way of being constructive.
I don’t remember what Dave had done, but
I was hurt and angry. Humanly speaking, I probably had every right to have
those feelings. Those emotions sparked a desire to get even, make him pay, or
at least withhold my warmth and admiration. As the morning wore on, I knew I
had to do something with those emotions because they were wrong. I remembered those words:—“love looks for a
way of being constructive.” Are you kidding? I
thought. Why would I want to do that?!
Yet our marriage was not just about me and
my pain. It was about us and about our commitment to this marriage. Looking for a way of being constructive isn’t
hard when life is good. But I figured those words were written especially for
the difficult times. So I looked for (and found) a way, that day. All I planned
to do was complete a task. Yet doing so changed my heart.
When Dave started his own construction
business twenty years ago, we had trouble keeping track of jobs and messages
for him. I’d try to remember to give him
messages and promptly forget - not a good thing when you’re trying to build a
business! Or I’d grab a piece of paper to
jot down the message when someone called, then one of the kids would get their hands on
it, and the paper became history.
So I started a spiral notebook for business
communications. Every few years I have
to update the notebook and begin a new one. For some time, Dave had been asking me to redo
the notebook because it was full. So, since I couldn’t concentrate on anything difficult
(because I was mad at him!), I decided to update the phone book.
For several hours, I thumbed through the
Solid Rock Construction notebook, making changes on my computer and crossing
out names of clients who were no longer living.
I added names of customers he’d recently acquired – over 100 names in
all. I remembered the customers and
smiled as I read verbatim notes penned to my husband:
“I have this problem,
and I knew just who to call.”
“I don’t know what we would do without
Dave. Tell him thank you for coming when he did.”
“My neighbor told me
to call Mr. Slabach; she said he can fix anything;”
and the best one from
an 80-ish widow lady:
“I tell you, if he wasn’t married, I’d be trying to
nab him; he’s such a wonderful person, you can be glad you got him first!”
At first, my reaction to those words was
a “humph” because I was still smarting. Yet as I continued paging through the notebook,
I realized again how blessed I am to be married to a man whose business is
conducted with integrity. This man, my
husband, is a gentleman and an honest businessman, and the work he does is
stellar. There is no shame in bearing his name!
By the time I was done with the phone book,
the anger in my heart was gone. In its place was a fire, burning with
admiration and passion. Oh yes, I still had reason to be angry; but the balance
of the scale was in his favor. Rather than focusing on his faults, I found
release in savoring his strengths. I found that being slow to lose patience,
looking for a way of being constructive, and then doing it is one
powerful way to show commitment! When Dave came home that evening, he found,
instead of a wife who refused to cuddle, a woman who wanted to renew her
commitment by being his lover.
It’s also true that in families and among co-workers, we will continue to face struggles in relationships. Some people are easier to like than others. We vary with those we mesh or clash with, depending on our personalities and strengths and weaknesses. I think it’s okay to be fonder of some people than others. It’s not okay to refuse to work on relationships and try to make things better between those with whom we rub shoulders.
I keep meeting Dorothys along my way – and the struggle is always there. Sometimes I’ve done well and other times I’ve allowed myself (again) to join the I-Don’t-Like-Dorothy club. Each time, I’ve had to follow the blueprint and find ways to be constructive.
If you’re like me, then you need more than an unreachable goal when it comes to relationships that are sour. When all that we’ve worked for and achieved seems to have crumbled, we need more than lofty theology and idealism. When we’re down in the muck and mire, trying to find broken pieces to put together again, we need more than just grandiose schemes for living as we rise up out of our huddle.
We need more than a “be ye warmed and fed” approach. We need a way to live where we can feel the shoe leather gripping our feet and know we are making a difference by our response.
I have to look for the hurt behind the armor, the pain
behind the mask, the anger behind the aloofness, and then I need to figure out
what I can do to be positive and constructive even when I’d rather spit
nails. When I am wounded, lonely, or
feeling betrayed, I certainly don’t want to look for a way of being constructive. I have to find ways to bless those who are
unloving to me; I need to find the positive and affirm it. Sometimes it means taking someone a loaf of
freshly baked bread or fixing a meal even when I think I don’t have time to do
it. Sometimes it’s a hand-written note
or an email to give congratulations for a job well done or a specific
achievement. It’s not enough to merely
be silently idle or not be negative. It’s not enough to think, “At least I
didn’t say anything negative!” That’s
just standing still. Love is action. It takes that step. It looks for – and finds a way – to be constructive. Looking for a way to be constructive (and then doing it) is one of the best ways I’ve found to practice -and do - love.
I know I’ll never have it all together this side of
Heaven. I win some, and I lose
some. Hopefully I’m winning more than
I’m losing these days. While I’m not
keeping score, it does help to look back and remember the times I’ve done it
right as well as the feeling of freedom and release when I’ve found ways to do
love. The more I practice looking for
ways to be constructive, the easier it is to find
them. The blueprint is there. All I have to do is read it, then get down
in the trenches, and follow the
plan.
* No, “Dorothy”
isn’t her real name
