Love that Changes

I heard this author-unknown statement recently on a podcast and it stuck in my mind, “Love that doesn’t try to change you, changes you.” It reminded me of this statement that passed my way several months ago, “Love is what happens when we stop trying to figure out who deserves it.” (Karen Faith TED talk).

When the second statement was rolling around in my mind, I easily applied it to God’s love. It was a refreshing reminder of a truth that had already been settling into my belief system: I don’t deserve God’s love and yet He loves me anyway. But I struggled when I tried to apply the first statement to God. “Love that doesn’t try to change you, changes you.” Can God love me without needing to change me? Isn’t my transformation one of the main points of a relationship with God? This is the question I want to wrestle with in this post.

I see two possible conclusions. First, perhaps it’s literally true that God loves me without trying to change me. Maybe this is the essence of the agency that He gives me. The idea that He will love me even if nothing about me ever changes does seem to add up. Grace, after all, really does mean free. Nothing I’ve done qualifies me for His love and the same can be said of the future; nothing I will ever do will qualify me for His love. So in the end, my transformation truly may not be the main point of a relationship with God. In the end, God will love me regardless. This truth astounds me every time I express it.

Second, it’s possible that this statement simply doesn’t apply to God. It certainly applies to mortals. Any relationship that is contingent upon change isn’t building on a foundation of love. The relationship between a professor and a student is based on the student being changed into someone with new knowledge and abilities. Love can be applied in that relationship, but it isn’t the foundation. In a relationship between a parent and their child, love should be the foundation and remain unchallenged by either the parent or the child’s failings. Change can (and should) be applied in that relationship, but it should not be the foundation. Likewise, God’s love may remain unchallenged by the state of my transformation but change must be applied because it is one of the main points of a relationship with Him.

These two conclusions feel mutually exclusive - if one is true, it seems the other must be false. Perhaps, though, they can both be true at the same time. If so, it paints an interesting picture of God for me. It’s as if His love were a bonfire; it will warm me without regard for my state - whether I come to it feeling cold or already warm for example. Even though it’s ambivalent to my state, its very nature affects me; changes me.

God isn’t ambivalent to my state, but like the bonfire, His very nature affects me; changes me. So the two conclusions may converge on a fundamental truth about God’s love: its ability to change without coercion. If so, His love IS change. It isn't bound by the need for transformation yet still manages to change. It may indeed be a love that doesn’t try to change me that, ironically, changes me.

Preparing for Boot Camp or Similar Gathering or Retreat

For the men, a bootcamp is coming up in Arizona next week as of this writing. In our GroupMe online forums the topic of “what do you do to prepare” has come up.

Last week I made the drive north to pick up my daughter from the airport which put me into close proximity to several bootcamp alumni, leading to a good dinner and conversation with my Band of Brothers.

As I drove with the windows down, sunroof open, and Christian music blaring, I began praying to connect with God. I attempted to really let the words sink in, see where I believed them, where I am pushing back.

Personally for me, shame still gets in there and tries to grow roots. I am good with grace and forgiveness for you, but I struggle to really believe it is 100% available 100% of the time for me. I could tell I was being resistant to the message, so I prayed as I listened and let the words sink in deeper.

I have found that about two bootcamps a year is best for me as 5-6 months is about when the effect of the previous one starts to wear off. The last camp I just showed up with little to no preparation. And I got what I put into it … not as much as I had hoped. I wrote about this in an earlier post, so I won’t go into detail, but it took a few weeks after returning home to get the full effect.

On my drive, I was reminded of the need to be constantly connected to God. Sure, a three-day adventure with intensive time for meditation, inspiration, adventure, and vows of silence with little distractions of work, family, or home life helps me drop in deep, but there is nothing to stop me from having these mini moments all year long.

Whether you are a presenter, attendee, hopeful attendee, spouse of an attendee, a never-going-to-attend skeptic, or whatever, what “rituals” do you go through to connect with God, self, nature, and others?

By Pete, Writing Team

Layers of a Man- Part Two

Last week I shared how I had examined myself and discovered four distinct layers that defined me. They were my Façade, my Shame, my Wounds, and The Divine. I went through the first two of these, explaining how I spent years carefully crafting a façade of being intelligent and considerate, and I did so to cover my shameful behaviors of cheating at school and using women to satisfy my lust. I mentioned what a major milestone it was for me to finally break down the façade and reveal my shame, but the journey wasn’t over yet.

Wound)

What I still had to discover was that there was a reason for all that shameful behavior. Just as the façade was compensating for the shame, the shame was compensating for something else: my wounds.

I cheated as a reaction to being the stupidest child in my family. My siblings and I were all homeschooled, and academic intelligence was of utmost importance. Those who did poorly in their schoolwork were assigned to take over the chores of those who did well, doling out punishment and reward in one fell swoop. I yearned for the praise and respect of my parents, especially of my father. When I was incapable of getting it by honest academic achievement, I learned to get it by cheating instead.

I selfishly used women as a reaction to being repressed as a child. I remember being regularly struck by my mother as a punishment for not being able to play quietly enough. While she slept I was required to stay in the house and entertain myself in a way that was contained and non-intrusive, so as not to wake her. I would try my genuine best, but I was a boisterous boy, and without realizing it I would inevitably become too loud, and then I would turn to see her advancing on me with a raised fist. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t make myself “behave properly,” but then I discovered pornography and it gave me a way to express myself however I wanted, and so long as I kept it quiet, secret, and contained, everyone was happy with me.

Can you see the connection between these wounds and my shames and façades? I felt stupid, so I cheated, but then I covered it with false intelligence. I had to repress my natural behaviors to accommodate my mother, so I found a selfish and indulgent outlet, but then covered it with an exaggerated consideration for others.

Our shame is nothing more than a misguided attempt to cope with our wounds. It tries to alleviate our painful shortcomings, but tragically does so in a way that only reinforces them. Cheating gave me the appearance of high grades and pornography gave me the fantasy of a loving relationship, but I knew that they were both fake, which further confirmed to me that I wasn't intelligent or well-adjusted enough to handle the real things.

Divine)

The reason the wounds hurt me so much was because they cut at the truest part of me. They put me on such a long and misguided path because they made me forget who I really was. They made me forget my divine self.

The words of scripture tell us that each and every one of us is a special creation of God, a divine child of the most powerful being in the universe, and an heir to heaven through Christ. The words of scripture tell us that each one of us has been given unique virtues and gifts, things we didn’t do anything to earn, things that are just innate within us. These are the parts of us that overlap with God.

I've shared my facade, my shame, and my wounds, it only seems fair that now I get to share some of the most divine parts of my soul as well. This isn't boasting because these are the qualities I did absolutely nothing to obtain. They were given to me as a gift from God.

My wounds told me that I was stupid, but I actually do have a high intelligence. It may not be an intelligence suited for academic achievement, but it does make me curious and creative. I have always had a natural knack for creating new things, be it stories, programs, or essays. I can’t do everything that certain people can do, but I can do certain things that other people can’t.

My wounds also told me that I was selfish and unlovable, that my exuberance was a burden, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I have always been naturally cheerful and friendly, with a deep love of life. I am most typically happy, and I want to see everyone around me be happy as well. I have a deep passion for people and ideas, and I am blessed to be able to find the richness within them.

***

Building these layers of self took time, and taking them apart took time as well. I had to excavate them in the reverse order that they had laid themselves over my heart. I disclosed my shameful secrets some time before I was ready to disclose my deepest wounds, and I came to terms with my broken self before I was able to come to terms with myself when whole.

When I look at how far my life strayed from its origins, and how complicated a path it took to get there, I realize it could have only ever been brought back by a miracle. I didn’t fall into recovery, I was led to it. God was fighting for me the entire way. He kept coming after my heart until I finally surrendered, and then He showed me how to dig through all the false layers to reach my true core. And, honestly, we’re still widening that excavation outwards, but at least now I know what’s going on.

By Abe, Writing Team