Love Has No Ends
Lately, I’ve been dwelling on loss – loss of my pets, loss of my parents, loss of my partner. These losses are (hopefully) years away, but the inevitability of each stops me in my tracks. How will my heart survive? The emptiness, the missing, how will they not consume me? I think about these things, and it prompts me to ask,
“What am I afraid of? What do I fear?”
And I realize I am more vulnerable than I’ve ever been, because my heart is more full, more filled. I know love and acceptance like never before. I have embraced being embraceable. I have accepted that I am lovable, and I love being loved.
I belong. I am wanted. I am adored. Just as I am. For me.
That’s wonderful and amazing. And vulnerable. It means I can be deeply wounded or devastated. That’s what stops me in my tracks. Being loved. Knowing that I am loved. That’s the most vulnerable place to be, even more vulnerable than loving.
I am not in control of how others love me. All I can do is accept it.
Love, being loved, is a gift. I did nothing to earn it. My pets, my parents, my partner… they love me.
I can’t handle it. The only thing to do is experience the love, savor the acceptance, be filled to the place of bursting, and splatter the love around.
Love never fails.
I think what that means is love is not a zero-sum game. We cannot deplete love. It will never run out, never be gone. Love only grows and expands. Love is not a well. Love is a fountain. It is eternal. It never fails.
Those stories about oil and flour, about bread and fish lasting way beyond their capacity? Those stories are about love. We don’t live on bread alone. We live on love.
Bread runs out. A loaf has ends. Love has no ends.
[1 Corinthians 13. 2 Kings 4. 1 Kings 17. I Maccabees. II Maccabees. Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 21b. Mark 6. Mark 7.]