On a field trip to the Minneapolis Institute of Art Gracie’s
teacher asked the kids what integrity was and they replied in unison “Integrity
is what you do when no one is watching.” That got me thinking. Could love have
that same definition? I mean it is great to give chocolate, jewelry on a
special day (especially chocolate or coffee, coffee is good too) every year to
show your love but is it not what you do every other day of the year even when
no one is looking that matters?
It is the people who love, give, do, (unconditionally) even
when no one is looking that really inspire me. The people who day in and day
out give sacrificially without glory or fanfare just because it is the fabric
of who they are. This in my opinion is
the essence of love.
I was thinking this morning of the people I have met over the
years. Random people who do not even know me but have gone the extra mile to show
love and concern. Little angels God has placed when/where I needed them. One
story came to mind.
I was working for a hospital and it was looking more and
more every day like my position may be going on strike. I knew there was NO way
I could ever afford a strike. I was a newly single mom of three kids and not
that picketing for better wages/benefits wasn't for me, it was just that food
and shelter took priority. As a result I found myself at the Anoka County
Workforce Center. I was looking at my options as the pending strike loomed over
me. I had no idea what I was doing so I approached the lady behind the counter.
I don’t know her name so I am going to call her Marge. She looked like a
Marge, a no-nonsense kind of gal. Marge asked me what I was looking for so she
could help me get started. I told her about the strike and then I told her of
the last few months which had not been pretty. She looked me square in the eye
with deep compassion (and a little foolishness because she had no idea the can
of worms she was about to open) and she asked “Oh my goodness that is a lot,
are you okay?” I realized in that moment I was NOT okay. Not even close. I opened my mouth but no words came out, my
mouth betrayed me. Tears started to run down my cheeks. I tried to speak but all that came out were whimpers and
groans. I was bawling. Seriously the ugly, messy, snot flowing kind of
sobs. The kind you should only do in the privacy of your own locked
bathroom, the kind do not want anyone to ever see. Marge quickly came around
the counter she grabbed my arm and pulled me into a smaller room. Honestly she
did not say much she just hugged me. (as I dripped drool and boogers all over
her shoulder) She held me until I was done and then she showed me the computer
and where to begin my search.
I did not find a job that day nor thankfully did I need to.
My job did reach an agreement just in the nick of time and I never saw Marge
again. Yet I will never forget her. No one knew what Marge did for me
that day. She cared, she sat, she wiped tears, she hugged. She loved with
integrity. She was not too busy to see the needs that stood before her. That my
friends is love. True, sacrificial, unconditional love. I aspire to be like Marge. Often I am too busy, too stressed, too self-centered to see what has
been placed in front of me. This is my Valentine prayer. Not just to
love one day, not to love for the glory or the “credit” but instead to love in
the way of action, the kind of love that does not look to be appear fancy and perfect but
instead is messy, full of tears,
boogers and hard work, even when no one is looking.
Because that kind of love my friends is a beautiful thing.
