dark chocolate

I have been thinking about the complexities of love lately. Not in the endearingly romantic “we love each other but we can’t be with each other!” way, nor in the “OMG! He’s a beautiful vampire and I can’t believe he’d ever love me!” way either. I’ve been thinking in terms of the complexities of navigating everyday life with another human being who I love and respect.

I was planning a lesson for the youth group about forgiveness. Navigating the murky waters of various stages of development but using the parable of the Lost Son for both groups. With the junior highers I was planning on talking about the differences between the father and the older brother and asking them which one of them represented a forgiving God. However, the senior highers I was taking a different track. I was thinking in terms of the son, and the journey that the son had to take to realize that he needed forgiveness and the need for all of us to realize that we are the youngest son, we need to be forgiven. And we are often stopped from seeking that forgiveness because we are afraid. We are afraid of the consequences, we are afraid of what lies on the other side of forgiveness and we are afraid of honesty.

I was going to lead into 1 John about how God is love and how that perfect love casts out fear and even as we face the consequences or what comes in our lives on the other side of forgiveness (are we afraid of space? Of emptiness? I know that I sometimes am) that there is a complex love that will carry us through. Which brought me to Splenda. I had heard somewhere (and where was that? That’s a secret I’ll never tell. xoxo.) that Splenda is about 98% nothing and about 2% sweetness to the nth degree. We don’t want Splenda love in our lives. If God’s love was Splenda it would be rainbows, sunshines, neon colors and CareBear Stares around the clock. Too sweet, too artificial, too intense. Instead, we need a love in our lives that is more complex, more able to handle the nuances of humanity (because, in fact, it is the source of humanity).

We need a dark-chocolate kind of love. Complex. Satisfying. Good for your heart. We need a love that confronts us with our crap, forgives and steadfastly remains on as the fallout and consequences of our actions (both good and bad) unfold. Splenda doesn’t stick around and it’s lasting effects have yet to be tested (I am aware that I am stretching the metaphor here).

So, as I sat in my comfy chair, in one of my new favorite spots, I was contemplating my current partnership. The more we walk through life together, the more the complexities show themselves. Not only is he wonderful, he is exasperating. As much as I learn more about him, the more I realized he is deeper than I anticipated…and the more I find myself being stretched into being an equally honest partner. Complexities aren’t easy, but they are good. And for a fleeting moment, I realized that what I was going to be teaching needed to be true in my life as well. Any concerns about how we exasperate each other shriveled up at the idea that I was thinking about a Splenda-level love.

The more I learn about myself, the more I discover how afraid I am. The more I continue to come back to the need for honest, for authenticity and for longevity. I am tired of fear, tired of running, tired of dissatisfaction. I am left with the question “what are you so afraid of, girl?” The more I uncover these layers of myself, the more I am thankful for my God and my partner for one will sustain and the other will continue to grow with me. I am blessed.