I didn’t want to drive Terry to class this morning. But, he was up late last night doing Pre-Cal test corrections that are worth extra credit, and there was just one problem he could not figure out. He followed every step listed in his textbook, yet his x and y values were still wrong. He’d made an 81 on the test, and the corrections would give him up to 8 points, EXACTLY what he needs for an A. He wanted to get to class early this morning to see if any of his classmates had had better luck.
Of course I took him, and I tried (hard) to be pleasant and have a good attitude about it, even though I stumbled out the door in an ensemble worthy of a “What Not To Wear” episode. He actually drove there, and I took the wheel once we arrived and he got out of the car.
On the way home, a Chris Tomlin song came on the radio. If you’ve had any prolonged exposure to Christian music, you’ve probably heard it: “You have filled our hearts with wonder…so that we always remember… you and I were made to worship, you and I were called to love. You and I are forgiven and free. You and I embrace surrender, you and I choose to believe… that you and I will see… who we were meant to be.”
(check it out if you've never heard it)
There have been times when I’ve listened to this song and “you have filled our hearts with wonder” struck a grateful chord in my heart, or “you and I are forgiven and free” has helped me out when I’ve struggled with past mistakes. I can’t count the number of times I have bawled my way through “that you and I will see who we were meant to be” when I felt utterly lost and unsure of who I was.
But today the verse that struck my heart was “you and I are called to love.” I’ve always loved the way that verse is worded: CALLED to love. As in, expected. Commanded. It’s part of our responsibility as Christians. And sometimes I think it’s easy to forget that, that we’re CALLED to love even when it’s hard, even when we don’t feel like it.
My main trouble lately is just letting little things that people say get to me. Everybody has their 2 cents of pregnancy advice, and everybody seems eager to point out how hard it will be, and how much trouble we’ll face, and all the “what ifs” that can happen. They tell me about all the weight THEY gained, how much THEY threw up, how painful THEIR delivery was, and then act like I’m destined to follow in their footsteps just because I too am pregnant.
They never seem to mention how they felt when they held their baby for the first time, how much they love him or her, or how rewarding it has been to be able to raise that child. Those are the things pregnant women need to hear. And apart from Terry, you know who my #1 cheerleader and encourager has been? My sister Kathy. She reminds me of all the things I CAN do, how stubborn I am, and tells me what a great mother I’ll be.
But, I’m trying to remember that even in spite of their wayward advice, the people giving it are good people who genuinely love me, as I do them. And I’m CALLED to love them, pregnancy hormones and all.
Just being able to hold my tongue and put on a good face isn’t enough. It’s superficial. I need to develop my heart so that I am tolerant and merciful because I AM tolerant and merciful, not because I am forcing myself to APPEAR that way. That’s a tall order since I’m pretty sure that if I were left to my own tendencies I’d single-handedly destroy just about every relationship I have. Any good in me that keeps me from doing that comes from Him, and without Him, I’d be hopelessly lost.
Driving Terry this morning reminded me not only that God will reward even the tiniest selfless acts in small, unexpected ways (like a well-time song), but that I’m called to love others in even the tiniest ways, like a quick car ride to class or extending mercy when someone inadvertently discourages me. That doesn't seem like too much to ask, considering all the mercy that has been shown to me.
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