Love

You know love because you are a product of it. It's in your blood. You breathe it. You touch it when you pet dogs. You see it on Andy Griffith reruns.

DEAR SEAN: 

Recently, I started talking to a guy who has been my friend for a while, and actually, I’ve fallen in love with him.

This will be our sixth month together. He’s AMAZING, goes to church every Sunday when he’s home because he works offshore. He’s respectful, loyal, and treats me like no other person.

I genuinely love him and, God willing, I see a future for us.

But the thing that hangs some people up, is that he’s black.

Most of my family loves him, but the other half sees our relationship as “morally wrong.”

I just need a little advice from someone who can tell me to keep going.

Sincerely,
GIRL NEEDING REASSURANCE

DEAR REASSURANCE:

I met a preacher who lived to one hundred and one. They tell me he spent days sitting by the window in a wheelchair, talking under his breath.

He told people he was chatting with his best friend.

Once, I saw him point to a tree outside the window.

“THAT’S love,” he said. “Right there. See it?”

“That’s a tree,” a nurse pointed out.

He laughed. “What do you think MADE that oak tree?”

She shrugged. “The Good Lord?”

“Close,” he said. “Love made it! Look it up!”

While he cackled, she wheeled him into his room where she changed his diaper.

Well, technically, if we’re following the old man’s way of thinking, “love” changed his diaper.

Anyway, I’ve thought about him for many years. And if that man was right, love does more than sprout trees and change diapers.

It floats through the universe, making everything work. It’s the green stuff inside leaves. It makes flowers grow.

It makes stars explode, planets spin, mountains shoot upward, ice cream sweet. It made the Gulf of Mexico. It made fried chicken, Willie Nelson, and SEC football.

And you.

You know love because you are a product of it. It’s in your blood. You breathe it. You touch it when you pet dogs. You see it on Andy Griffith reruns.

Love is Cheryl—she visited the man who raped her, sixteen years ago. She drove to a bad neighborhood and delivered a handwritten letter with the first sentence reading: “I forgive you.”

Love is Nicole and Rena, who started a soup kitchen in their living room.

It’s young Jaylen, Elijah, and Taylor, who didn’t want to join an inner-city gang. Who volunteer on a farm instead.

Scott—who adopted a dog from a shelter. Then another dog. Then another.

It’s a slumped man in a wheelchair, who talks to the window because he misses his wife.

Love will rescue the woman thinking about swallowing a bottle of pills. It will cause people to give money to strangers.

And It will make “morally” blind fools to see again—one day.

It will comfort you, when you feel like everyone in this damn world is against you.

But they aren’t all against you.

The thing is, I don’t give advice. Because I am too unqualified. I will, however, tell you what an old preacher told me once.

“Love everything. Even hateful people.”

Keep going, darling.

10 comments

  1. Bobbie - July 12, 2017 3:15 pm

    I see the relationship as “morally right”…reach for happiness!

    Reply
  2. Cathi Russell - July 12, 2017 3:24 pm

    Bravo, Sean, bravo!

    Reply
  3. Cathleen Hall - July 12, 2017 3:33 pm

    For not giving advice…..good advice.

    Reply
  4. Barbara Nelle Ewell - July 12, 2017 3:41 pm

    Good advice. Keep going. Keep loving. Maybe even eventually forgive those family members, and others, who do not have eyes to see.

    Reply
  5. Wendy - July 12, 2017 3:48 pm

    Love is Sean whose writings inspire us to love all humankind.

    Reply
  6. Cynthia Perfater - July 12, 2017 5:35 pm

    Amen Sean.

    Reply
  7. Dianne Foster - July 12, 2017 7:36 pm

    Dear Sean,
    Could you please run for President? YOU are love..and my Country needs love, because some people have forgotten how.

    I love your writings!!

    Reply
  8. Carolyn Huggins - July 13, 2017 2:09 am

    My husband had a “fling” once…I never told anyone. Years later when we separated, his sister hated me, for she knew it had to be my fault. She just booted me out of her life. BUT, I always smiled and spoke kindly to her…never disclosing anything about her brother. What good would there have been in that. I helped my daughter move her to a nursing home, and visited her over the years. 15 years later, she burst into tears and asked could I ever forgive her for the mean way she had treated me. I told her that I had done that long ago…and I had. There is no reason for holding grudges; life is just too short.

    Reply
  9. Michael Hawke - July 13, 2017 2:40 am

    May God bless you.

    Reply
  10. Jack Quanstrum - July 13, 2017 3:42 am

    Amen and Amen! I know your not preaching but your final comment hit the Bulls eye. Thank you Sean for your love.

    Reply

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