I’ve been thinking about this question a lot lately. I’m getting married in two days, so it’s kind of been a running theme. Love. What is it, really? We are so free with the word at times that it has a tendency to lose meaning. We toss it around flippantly like it’s just another verb.
Oh! I love pizza!! Did you see Sally’s dress? I love it!
We minimalize it and customize it to fit not only our pets and our children, but small things like our shoes and a song we hear on the radio. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not necessarily a bad thing, but at times I wonder if we hear it so much, we become a little desensitized to the concept. Love shows up and it blindsides us and we’re left standing around a little dazed wondering what just happened.
And Then Love Comes Along
Love is a sneaky little elf that comes creeping up on you when you least expect it. Quietly sitting in little corners of your life waiting for you to notice. You wake up one morning and as you’re making your coffee, you see Love sitting there next to your cup and you think to yourself, “What is that?” “I’ve never noticed that there before…..” You go on about your day with a little whisper of the encounter tickling your ear lobes. Over time it gets stronger and louder and before you know it, Love has arrived in full force. It’s all rainbows and hearts and glitter and hearts pounding, and you ask yourself “Is this really love?”
There are so many kinds of love. There is deep love and infatuation. Love can be a noun: Children need love. It’s a verb; I love shoes. Love is complicated; the present and past participle forms of the verb are participial adjectives: I have a loving spouse. My husband is a loved man. To say the least, Love can be a little complicated.
But it changes.
It evolves in ways we never fathomed.
Love is waking up in the morning and sharing coffee while you sit and laugh at the dogs. Love can also be waking up to coffee and sitting quietly because someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Plus, love is not bothered by curmudgeony mornings because, Love understands. It has been there. Love is sitting quietly with hard times and holding hands and knowing that you’ll come out on the other side just fine. Its days spent walking the creek beds and catching frogs, and at the same time, it’s days spent running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Frantic and out of breath, but knowing that at the end of the day, you come home to Love. Love is sweatpants and stained tee-shirts, high heels and stockings all rolled into one.
The thing I’m realizing about Love is that it’s not this fairy tale ending kind of thing, but at the same time, it is. It’s being content without being complacent. Love is sneaky, but once it really shows up, it’s steadfast and it is strong. It reaches into all of the parts of your heart and soul and makes itself at home.