Loving the Uncomfortably Unlovable

Last week, I traded my desert view for the sunny California coastline. My cousin and her husband recently returned to SoCal after a brief stint in Chicago and were kind enough to extend an invitation for Thanksgiving. She warned me it wouldn't be traditional in the turkey and mashed potato sense, but that really sounded pretty dreamy to my little AIP heart. My uncle and his wife plus another cousin flew in from the wintry Midwest and our party was set. I spent each morning at their vacation rental just down from Sunset Cliffs, listening to the waves crash on the sea cliffs below me, coffee in hand. It was magical. And as an added bonus, instead of being uncomfortable with my autoimmune dietary needs, the family embraced it. Thanksgiving dinner was freshly caught opah, brussels sprouts, and sweet potato. Indeed, it was pretty easy to be thankful this year. 

Pretty fab, amirite?

Most of the itinerary was go-go-go. We went sailing Thursday and hiked Torrey Pines Friday. In the spare quiet times, when my cousin and I were alone, we chatted about funny things, like how awful dating is and societal expectations about wearing makeup; and serious things, like environmental sustainability and aging. Most of these conversations came in the small living room of my cousin's modest Ocean Beach home. Also in the living room, on a sherpa-looking doggie pillow, lives their very ancient husky-Aussie shepherd mix Chey. She looks good for her age, with all that white husky hair, but she's pretty up there in doggie years. My cousin's goal is to make sure Chey spends her twilight years fully loved and comfortable. It is a contrast to how Chey spent her life before being rescued by my cousin: rejected and unloved. Instead of letting her stay on that path, my cousin confronted a misjudged and overlooked dog and gave her an amazing life. As Chey's health has declined, my cousin has leaned in, so to speak. She knows Chey won't live forever but is determined to love and comfort her til the very end. She said caring for a senior dog has opened her eyes to how we as a society hide things we no longer deem worthy of our time. Instead of leaning in, we run away. We push uncomfortable things from our mind rather than embrace a bit of discomfort or attempt empathy. I mean, a French court recently ruled that a commercial showing smiling children with Down's Syndrome was inappropriate and could be disturbing for some people. So...showing people enjoying life despite their circumstances might upset people?--or showing people deemed imperfect by much of society enjoying life might upset people?

It made me think about how I respond when confronted by things that make me uncomfortable and that are not easy to love.

I recently listened to a message where the pastor discussed loving your neighbor. The way I interpret my faith is pretty straightforward, and though religiosity tries to complicate it, it can be summed up in four words: "Love God. Love people." Too many people seem to get caught up in what God is against rather than celebrating what God is: love (1 John 4:8.) In the Gospels, Jesus set the example of loving the unlovable--the uncomfortably unlovable. He loved people that were not loved by society. He loved those people deemed unworthy and unclean that society just wanted to hide. To be unclean was to be untouchable and ultimately unlovable. But Jesus spent time with the sick. He spent time with the outcast, the foreigner, the widow. He didn't let society hide them. He said "I see you." In loving the unlovable, He made some people pretty uncomfortable. 

Which brings me back to loving my neighbor. Why is it a commandment? Why do you think it had to be called out? Probably because if loving other people was easy, we'd all be doing it. We wouldn't need the directive. The fact is, there are a lot of uncomfortable things in this world. Speaking for myself, there are a lot of things that make me pretty uncomfortable. It took an internship in the human rights field to take away my fear of staring pain in the face. I still have to brace myself when I consider things that are uncomfortable to process and acknowledge those people I find difficult to love. 

If you're reading this and thinking "I don't do pain, it's too upsetting"--first of all, I better never find out that you watch sad movies for entertainment. Like never. Second...I totally get it. Pain is not something I seek out. I'm not a masochist. But when pain crosses my path, I acknowledge it. I make eye contact. I lean in. Even when it makes me uncomfortable. Do you work out? When I'm at the gym, I accept there will be a certain level of pain and discomfort. (Sled training, anyone? Vom.) The first day of a new circuit is usually brutal and I feel it for a week. But I know I won't improve and get the results I want without pain as part of the equation. Muscles don't grow without first ripping and then repairing. You have to break it down so the muscle can rebuild bigger, better, stronger. My point? The good news and the bad news is that the heart is a muscle. The pain you encounter in this world will rip your heart apart; but if you're willing to let it break a little, you'll be surprised how much it will grow despite the pain. 

My hope is that pain has granted me a broader perspective. I don't know what it's like to go through a divorce, to be homeless, or to be a refugee--but I know what it's like to feel unwanted. I hope that due to my own painful experiences I have more empathy. I hope that I can love people better today than I did yesterday. And trust me--after ten years of working retail on Black Friday...it's really kind of miraculous that I still speak to people. 

I pray to live with eyes wide open. I think that even as my heart breaks over the pain I see in the world, I am better able to see the good that exists in humanity. There is still good in the world. There are still people fighting to do what's right. There are still people that take a stand. 

As I wonder why there is pain in the world, I pray to live in such a way that I don't get caught up in my own pain and miss someone else that might be hurting. I think the best way to go on is to continue living in spite of the pain around us. I still pray. I still dream. I still watch college football, yell at hockey games, and spend quiet nights scoring baseball games (#nerdalert.) I still struggle with insecurity, stress about buying tires for my car, and wonder if I'll ever eat chocolate again. I'm vain and selfish and daily spend an unseemly amount of cash on coffee. But you know what else? By leaning in and acknowledging hurt in the world, I've gained perspective. And like the Grinch, my heart has grown three sizes and then some. I still feel pain and hurt and rejection. But I still smile and try to love. Especially those people and those things which are uncomfortably unlovable. 

Who are the uncomfortably unlovable people around you? Are they people that you feel don't understand you?--Or maybe you have trouble understanding their perspective on an issue. What are the uncomfortably unlovable situations in your life? Where in your realm of influence do you see society turning away? Maybe it's a homeless guy on your way to work. Maybe it's a single mom who could use a night of free babysitting. Maybe it's a refugee family that has fled unspeakable things to try and build a safer life.

I guarantee you won't wake up loving the uncomfortably unlovable circumstances in your life. But don't be afraid of being uncomfortable. Because "Fear leads to the dark side." (Yoda. Duh.)

When you see pain, lean in.

Love God. Love people. 

Especially the uncomfortably unlovable.