Something from Amy

Something from Amy

Here is something my Amy wrote recently:

Herein lies the sweetness of life, to be the one who gets to love with nothing in return. The giving itself, is the place of purest right feelings. For anything to be done by me in order to receive, is tainted with the expectation of it. Reverse this. When someone loves me without expecting something in return, I am left standing there, with nothing but time and space to enjoy that expression. It goes deep. I don’t have pressure to repay. I picture them watching me open presents in a crowded room of birthday party guests, from a corner of the room where they are just happy to see me happy. I get to their gift, there’s no card but I know who it’s from because it’s thoughtful. Someone says, “That’s from so-in-so, I saw him bring it in”. But where is he? It’s a drive-by gift from a pure-intentioned giver. It’s the one who wants nothing back. It becomes my favorite gift, of course.

The deeply pleasing, design of relationships is something the world will die without knowing. They all have a feeling relationships could be something they need, but never do they find one that fits. Everyone is too busy signing cards with elaborate signatures and saying, “That one’s from me! You’re gonna love it,” and then hands them an invitation to their party set for next week. But the quiet man in the corner gets it. He’s the happiest one at the party because he truly loves.

Wandering, pretty people in Hollywood provide endless comically tragic illustration to this point. Skin-deep lovers wishing for heart-depth fulfillment jump from skin to skin every other year. Dropping marriages almost as often as bath towels, shows they are no more likely to stay happy for more than a day, than they are to stay clean. It’s because no one really gives a minute’s thought to love that asks nothing back. We don’t have the fame and hotness that lines up new and vainglorious, parasitic suitors at our door, but we’ve all been victims of it. We’ve all done it ourselves.

It’s true, try to prove me wrong. You will never convince me. Measure for measure, added up and laid out on the table, my happiest days have been giving days. My best memories are my selfless ones. The things I do that are for Jesus, and powered by his Spirit but no one ever gives me credit for, are the most comfortable places in my soul. Manipulated striving, checking and double checking for that payback, waiting and wanting appreciation, anxiety-infused tries at being liked and exhausting uphill hikes to empty head pats will kill you and me. Selfish relationships are the death climb to empty promise.

And then there is Jesus, the purest of givers. How very satisfied he must be with His gift to us.