.love.

Last week I was at the health clinic with my roommate, and while she was in with the stupid* doctor I waited in, get this, the waiting room. Yup.
So anyways, while I was waiting I was doing some reading for a class, but I was also doing a little eavesdropping. Waiting rooms are good places for people watching I have decided. There was a mom with two little kids, who were quite well-behaved I might add. The boy had found a book and was showing it to his mom. I guess there was a picture of a toy gun inside because he felt compelled to tell her, "Mommy, you know what's not dangerous? This gun. It doesn't actually work, mommy. It won't hurt anybody." I guess he wanted her to feel safe.
The cute part I was trying to get to in this ever-lengthening story happened a while later. He suddenly turned to his mom and said, "Mommy, mommy, you know what's not dangerous? LOVING!" and he gave her a great big hug.
At this point I thought two things..."how sweet" and "oh to be so innocent."
Obviously this boy and his mother have a very positive, loving relationship. We are told that perfect love casts out fear, so in his limited life experience love has never caused him pain or been a risk.
But...for most of us, that's not really the case. I have a number of friends who recently went through some breakups, and I am reminded of the risk it is to love others. They are going through some very real pain because of their choice to love another. And I'm not saying it's better to not have loved another; in a lot of ways that would be even more dangerous. I'm simply acknowledging that unfortunately, we do not love perfectly, and therefore it is always a risk. As Jack Johnson so eloquently puts it, "lovin' somebody don't make them love you."
It makes me so incredibly grateful that God loved us, loved me, so much that he chose to send his Son. Seriously, what greater love, and what greater pain? I am so thankful that God said that we are, that I am, worth the risk of love and sacrifice.

* ok, I know that I am not doctor, but I do feel that I can call him a childish name of "stupid" because I think it's pretty clear when someone has been unable to keep any food down or up for a week and her body has broken out into hives then there's something about that that is "not normal" and you don't just send her home, tell her she's an idiot for thinking there's something wrong, and leave her with the advice that she should "make a lifestyle change."