The Love Difference

Sometimes we can tell the difference.  Most times we can't, at least at first glance.

We do it all the time.  We have it done to us all the time.  People hide from each other to avoid talking about the private things in their lives.  Rather than have anyone think we don't have it all together,  we pretend it's all good.

Okay, sometimes it IS all good.  Fine - it happens.  And sometimes when we are suffering, we don't want EVERY person to know we're having a bad day - or a bad year.  I get that too.  Like one comedian said once, "You know who cares way less about your problems than you do?  Ever'body."  There is something to be said about being selective regarding with whom we share our innermost feelings.  I think the Good Book warns, 'Cast not your pearls before swine.'  


But there comes a time to be honest - not only with ourselves but with God and with others too - particularly those closest to us, the people we trust.  For some of us it is our families.  For others - family is the last place we want to be that open, and with good reason.  


One of the things I have always dreaded doing is a 'forced friendly.'   It happens in ice-breakers and team-building activities at work, or on Sunday morning at church when someone suggests we all go shake hands and greet each other.  Very few are ever honest at those times.  With notable exceptions, the smiles are fake, the handshakes insincere. And everyone, if the truth were known, is hiding his or her pain.  

The ones I cherish are the ones who break through the insincerity barrier. They are the rare treasures: open, unencumbered spirits, the ones who I know really love.  There is no guile in them.  No hidden agendas.  No masks.


Like yesterday morning.  I'd been to church, was heading out of the building, and had gotten into the car just as my hubby drove it to the door.  

I was just getting into the car when one of those rare people, whose smile reaches his eyes, came over, greeted us, and shook our hands through the car window. I know that this man has the kinds of problems that might make someone else in his position bitter.  Yet he has allowed himself to be broken and to open himself to others.  He has allowed himself to be known, warts and all, to everyone. And everyone who knows him ... loves him.

As he stooped and shook my hand through the car window, he looked straight into my eyes.  I could see the love in his eyes.  It moved me, touched a spot in me that had been dry and dusty, and refreshed my spirit. 

It is possible to look beneath the surface, to cut through the facade.  It is possible to be real, to love ... sincerely.  


Thank you, my friend, for showing me your heart; you have no idea how much I needed to see it.  I pray that I can be as true.