Love Where You Live Now (Pt. 2)
I woke up restless, fluffing my pillows and tossing and turning in vain for just over an hour, finally peeling myself from beneath my fluffy white comforter at 3:04 AM. Slowly, I made my way to my laptop, confident that there must be something I need to pour from my heart onto the page (and confident that this will make for a VERY long day for yours truly). What thoughts were keeping me awake?
Hypothesizing whodunit in the novel I’m currently reading.
Plotting a ‘down south’ vacation to outrun the winter for a bit.
Thinking about how adopting a dog is going to drastically change my life (and my bank account).
Reflecting on my purpose, and how I am (or am not) working towards it.
Wondering if I finally love myself unconditionally.
What I’m trying to say is that my racing thoughts ran that gamut, really. If you read my last blog, you already know that I’m choosing to love where I live in New York. However, the more I reflect on that idea with God, the more I realize I must embrace the fact that loving where I live right now transcends location and moves into being. I must carry that love beyond the boundaries of my town, beyond the walls of my apartment, and into my skin and bones, through the walls of my heart. I live in this body, and she deserves to be loved, too - exactly as she is right now.
Many of my teenage and early adult years were spent believing that I was a project with a clear definition of success. My habits, my mind, my body - they could all be perfected if I tried hard enough, and only then would I actually be worthy of love. I believed the lie, and if I think about it for too long, it grieves me to know how many years I wasted thinking I wasn’t smart enough, successful enough, thin enough, creative enough, or fill-in-the-blank enough. My problem? I was taking my cues about what it meant to be “enough” from the world where the bar is perfection rather than taking my cues from my loving creator.
It’s safe to say that most of us have been here, struggling with the concept of being enough and “loving where we live” in the midst of failure, depression, miscarriage, job loss, and so many other arduous things that show their ugly little faces in our lives. But amongst such ugliness, what does it look like to gaze upon openhanded beauty instead? What does it look like to cast our eyes on the one who made all things, and seek his wisdom to define ourselves? In doing this, we can be reminded that:
God does not make mistakes, and he did not make a mistake when he created us. (Genesis 1:27-31, Psalm 139:13-14)
God chooses us and loves us just as we are right now. (John 15:16, Romans 8:35-39)
God could make his home anywhere, but he chooses to make his home in us. (John 14:23, Ephesians 3:17-19)
God has a plan and a purpose for our lives, and he won’t let us miss out. (Proverbs 3:5-6, Ephesians 2:8-10)
When we have these truths on repeat, we can remember measuring our worthiness using the world’s definition of “enough” is quite silly - it’s like trying to bake a cake with a ruler and a protractor instead of measuring spoons and cups - what we are using to measure doesn’t allow us to experience success. This causes us to miss the opportunity to love our imperfect selves in the present moment.
We are a work in progress that is not meant to be completed here on earth, so we can stop striving for perfection and instead lean into living each day with Jesus, simply seeking to know him more and say yes to his radical grace and love for us. As we emerge from beneath our blankets each morning, we can know we are enough before we even take a step. It’s true, we can (and probably will) set intentions to be present, to love and grow and learn and do and love again, we can chase after our goals and try new things, but even when we fail at all of it, we can still make the rebellious choice to love where we live now.
