All She Knew was that She Loved Them...

I created this blog with the hope to write once a week. I got off to a strong start but have now been away from the project for a little while. The biggest reason for this relates to today's topic: my grandmother's death.

My time watching my grandmother die and then preparing for and participating in her funeral was incredibly challenging, but equally beautiful. In those final days as my grandma laid squeezing my hand and faintly humming to my singing, I was reminded of all the ways in which she led a beautiful life. At the funeral service, the priest made a statement that really captures it all. He said that even though her dementia caused her to not recognize or remember most people, my grandma didn't need to know who they were because she knew that she loved them. That's really all that mattered.

How many people do you know who by their nature simply know that they love all people regardless or personal qualities or the existence of a developed relationship? How many people do you know who will just smile at a stranger or go out of their way to help a passerby in need without even realizing it? That is how my grandmother lived. That is a life of love.

It seems to me that we live in a world where we have to earn the trust and acceptance of others and are equally cautious in giving it out ourselves. It seems that most people would find it outlandish for you to say definitely that you love someone without really knowing a thing about them or having any relationship to them. We even sometimes feel invaded or even threatened if an unfamiliar face shows us unordinary warmth. We think that surely either there must be something wrong with that person, or he/she has an ulterior motive.

Jesus walked around town befriending prostitutes and criminals, and recruiting murderers for his core team. What in the world must people have thought of him? What would you have thought?

If we boldly proclaim (as many Christians do) that we want more than anything to follow his ways and be his hands and feet, why do we often reserve our love and service for a small group? Why do we get apprehensive about associating ourselves with the "less acceptable" of society? Do we think that not everyone is deserving, or perhaps fear the rejection of those around us? Maybe our love has limits after all.

In some ways my grandmother's dementia revealed her true nature. How beautiful is it to think that her natural instinct was to actively love. Her love had no exceptions or limits. Her love was like Jesus'. Regardless of her ability to recognize me in the final days, my grandmother never stopped loving me. This made me realize that even though I don't have dementia, I shouldn't need to know someone or about some "qualifying factor" for me to love them. I want to live love the way she did. No limits. No hesitation. No questions. All I need to know is that I love, and that's more than enough.