Love 'til it Hurts

And when it hurts, I suppose.
And though you know it'll hurt... right?

Wrong.

Or at least I haven't been doing that. I've been witholding love, knowing that my time here in Illinois is short. I expected to study abroad this Spring so I didn't want to get attached too much before I left. Turns out, I'm still here. Then, I was planning on studying abroad in the Fall and the Spring of my junior year, hoping to let those be my last semesters of university (yes, graduating a year early). Turns out, I'll be here in the Fall and at this rate, maybe I'll be away in the Spring.

I've never experienced this fear of attachment so strongly as I have here in Champaign-Urbana. What in the world? I've always been one to jump into relationships quickly and deeply precisely because I don't know just how much time I may have with them. I want to squeeze as much as I can out of the friendship. I want to soak up all the time I possibly can. I don't want to be able to look back and wish I had given more, shared more... loved more.

But something changed in me when I left Colombia a year and a half ago. As I said goodbye to too many people, too many places, too many times... my mindset switched and something in me began believing: Nothing will ever feel like home... again. And in a way, I was right. Every time I've been home since June 2010, less of my friends are back. My parent's have moved apartments. Last time, my brother wasn't home. Visiting school feels strange... as if I'm the new one there... and in a way... I am.

I'm the new one.

I've changed and been stretched and have grown and have been shaped by new experiences. And home only kind of feels like home anymore.

And so this sickening feeling, leaves me scrambling... But I've realized that instead of truly looking for that rooted sense, I simply guard myself from ever putting roots down. I don't want to be uprooted again-- which I inevitably will be upon graduation.

So, for the last year and a half (save a few exceptions), I've offered friendliness, given smiles, given hugs, had dinner dates, gone on walks, stayed up late, giggled and shared... yet never truly offered a friendship. I've let a precious few into my heart... enough to truly grab hold of the deepest parts of me and when I leave or they do (as they or I inevitably will, or some have already), they will rip out a little piece.

I've resisted attachment with a fierce determination, yet hesitating to admit to even myself for the longest time. It's as if I know that the deeper root of this isn't simply a fear of saying goodbye again, but pure selfishness. I don't want to give and give and give to people who will simply not be in my life (realistically) in the years to come. I don't want to go through the exhausting process of letting people truly know me in each new place I happen to land. It's draining and frankly, I don't always feel like I have the energy that I want to expend on getting to know people... truly getting to know them and to be known by them.

But as I look at the life of Christ, I cannot blame my upbringing where many people were terribly unstable on my lack of initiative here and now. I can't cling to my comfort of knowing that I am loved somewhere by some people that I knew somehow and keep everyone else at a distance. I can't brush off my hesitance to connect and truly love by simply saying, "But I've said too many goodbyes now..." That's not a good excuse.

Sure, it's a reason, but it's not an excuse.

If anyone had an excuse to not love because pain was inevitably coming, it was Jesus. If anyone could justify holding back because people would disappoint, it was Jesus. If anyone could claim that home was elsewhere and this was simply a fleeting reality, it was Jesus. And yet he didn't.

He didn't withhold love. He didn't. He invested and initiated and pursued and fought for and cherished and went out of his way and sought ways of deepening relationships. He allowed 12 men close who would all abandon him, deny him or betray him at one point in his life. He knew it would happen, yet he chose them and he loved them. I've always thought about the sacrifice on God's side... God didn't spare his own son... but it's more than that... Jesus didn't spare his self. Yes, he didn't spare his own life, but he also didn't spare his own love.

And that... that is so powerful.

Love 'til it hurts. And when it hurts. And when it will hurt.

Love. Always.