a better love.

I’m learning a lot about love.

We sang “He Loves Us” in church a few weeks back, and I began to think through my day, my week, my year, and my childhood. How has He loved me? And–in true eloquence–I could only answer, “In a weird way.”

When I began to think of how Christ has loved us in the last year, each way was unexpected and unorthodox of what we associate with love. The times I have felt most loved have been painful, as well. I have felt loved when it was not obvious and not expected.

In the women’s bible study I’m a part of, we just finished watching a video seminar by Eggerichs on love and respect in marriage. Having grown up in a home where marriage books, advice, and lingo are in widespread abundance, minimal content was surprisingly new. Even so, it was interesting to hear his take on culture and how culture has defined marriage.

He claims the West is a love-dominated culture, where the society caters more to love while lessening the value of respect.  And though he didn’t make this claim, I think Asia, or what I’ve seen of it, is the opposite in many ways. It is a more respect-dominated culture, in everything from marriage to parenting to relationships with the neighbors. I think this has changed the way they love.

Eggerichs was claiming that in the West, with love encapsulating our culture, we have left behind men’s need for respect and pushed them to love. I wonder if the same is true of Asian culture, that in their high value of respect, they consider love in secondary significance.

But, as a Christian marriage seminar, he ultimately re-directed our definitions of love relationships back into Scripture, where we find relationships with love and respect enhancing one another. And here is created a vision of a greater love, that is really far deeper than the vernacular “love” implies.

Though Stephen & I have so much to learn, an overwhelming potential is identified, really for us to simply ache for and push for.

how long can we survive on chocolates and movie lines?
a better love, a better love I see.
a better love, a better love I see.
…but somewhere out in the streets, there’s a melody that speaks hope for something bigger.
a better love, a better love I see.
a better love, a better love I see.

-Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors

This song has been running through my head for weeks. It is a vision for what we see: a way to love better.

Not only in our marriage, but this same vision has then been cast in other areas.

Consider our friendships here in Mae Sot. We live in a small, foreign town surrounded by villages. I can honestly say it’s not a hot-bed for internationals: either you’re here for Burma, or you’re not here. There’s just not much else to pull you here and make it worth staying. So we have this small group of people that we can genuinely communicate with from all over the world, at different stages of life, and comprised different belief systems.

But suddenly, all the things we usually choose friends by–age group, stage of life, belief systems–they don’t really matter. There’s only so many of us. It doesn’t matter if you’re a little difficult to deal with, because I’ll probably see you regularly, so I should probably learn to be gracious.  It doesn’t matter if you believe something different than me, because we can at least communicate to establish the difference. It doesn’t matter if I wouldn’t interpret this verse that way, because this is the only English speaking church in town.

And though it sometimes begins with frustration, it often ends in grace. It often ends with a deeper love. We’re not really choosing our friends, but rather learning to love those around us, learning to appreciate our differences, and even beginning to glimpse the depth of intentional love.

While Stephen & I were living in Oklahoma, we started getting to know the refugee community living nearby. It started with the culture: we love Burma and the people of Burma. We started meeting people, enjoying meals with them, and supporting. It then became a job, as I began working with The Spero Project.  How could we help them settle into America?  When could we explain a bill or letter they received in the mail? When could we help them register for the new school year and understand a huge list of supplies they’ve been told to purchase?

It started as a way to help. But before long, we’re no longer helping; we’re dependent. We’re learning together and growing together, in a whole new definition of friendship. It became love, in a new, deeper definition of the word.

It happened the same with our neighbors. In our limitations of friendship, we have grasped and continue to reach for a far deeper revelation of love. We can’t settle for dinner together over conversation about the weather. When we use words, it is out of need and requires a huge side dish of patience. When we relate, we have to watch each other, spend time together, and observe each other.

And it shows me a whole new perspective of love. It creates an ache for something better.