We‘re about three feet apart. The small couch I’m sitting on nearly kissing the edge of her recliner chair. Too close if you ask me, but blame the architecture and the narrow office. I take a sip from the Styrofoam cup of “coffee” she hands me. She wasn’t kidding about it being jet fuel. I suppress the urge to spew it at sound barrier-breaking speeds.
She’s not much older than me. She can’t be, but it would be rude to ask, though. To be honest, I haven’t figured her out yet. I don’t know what her angle is. I pretend I’m being interrogated sometimes when she asks me questions. Nah, that’s not the truth. I feel interrogated; I pretend to have an open mind. She probably knows this.
We’ve been talking about my life and the mess of it. She tells me I’m going through a lot and that I just play it off as being chill. Interesting hypothesis. I’ll have to conduct some mental experiments and gather some quantitative data on that.
She leans back. “What is love?” she asks.
Oh, do I ever know the answer to this! God. God is love. Love is God. For God so loved. Nailed it.
I just get this overwhelming sensation that I’m not completely right.
I know it was just Thanksgiving time, but her question puts me in a Valentine’s state of mind. I’m actually not sure what love is. Even more, I don’t know how to love people right, especially the ones closest to me.
I realize I’ve learned to compartmentalize my love. I draw a line in the sand between feelings and intimacy. When I meet new people, I make sure to dam up my trust and love. Can’t be too careful!
With God, mercy! My love is unreliable. Love endures all things, but mine just cowers when life throws punches. I’m a cowardly lover.
I’m thankful that God is not a coward. God is brave in love. A Legolas shooting for my heart with perfect aim. He takes risks. Me being one of his biggest, I suppose. He’s teaching me to love and be brave like Him.
So I guess I’m also thankful for counselors who reside in narrow offices, fuel my day with caffeine and ask me tough questions about God.