C.R. Everett's Blog, page 8
December 5, 2012
What Is Real Love, Anyway?
No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. John 15:13
This morning the inspiration struck for me to start a blog. Why, you ask?
There have been some reviews of my novel, Love, Carry My Bags, that mention the main character, Camryn's, quest for love, and some say she found and knew the meaning of love.
As a typical author, I thought, wow, really? Had I really answered such a weighty question? I wrote the novel as much or more to seek answers rather than dish them out. How humbling to think that I had THE answer.
Some may ask, "How is losing your own life, setting aside your own needs and wants, even neglecting yourself, love?"
Here's my answer: Love is also a verb, something healthily chosen. I may lay down my life for you, setting aside my own selfish desires, but I'm not going to commit suicide doing it. That would be unhealthy.
And for the literalists out there, laying down one's life does not mean in the literal sense, although it could depending on the circumstances. Think Aurora, Colorado and the cinema shooting where people threw themselves over their loved ones, sacrificing themselves. Most of us are called to lay down our lives in the figurative sense. Think spouses who care for an Alzheimer's-patient husband/wife. Think parents of a disabled child. Even parents who cancel that long-planned getaway in order to support their child's sports schedule lay down their lives. It may be a sport the child adores, but the parents, not so much. The list goes on and on and on.
This is real love.
So, as I lay in bed pondering, did I really answer the question about what is love? Did my character, Camryn, really have a grasp? These words popped into my head "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." I did know. Camryn did know. The answer had been written down for over 2000 years. I didn't answer the question; I was reminded of the answer. And now I am reminding you of the answer too.
This morning the inspiration struck for me to start a blog. Why, you ask?
There have been some reviews of my novel, Love, Carry My Bags, that mention the main character, Camryn's, quest for love, and some say she found and knew the meaning of love.
As a typical author, I thought, wow, really? Had I really answered such a weighty question? I wrote the novel as much or more to seek answers rather than dish them out. How humbling to think that I had THE answer.
Some may ask, "How is losing your own life, setting aside your own needs and wants, even neglecting yourself, love?"
Here's my answer: Love is also a verb, something healthily chosen. I may lay down my life for you, setting aside my own selfish desires, but I'm not going to commit suicide doing it. That would be unhealthy.
And for the literalists out there, laying down one's life does not mean in the literal sense, although it could depending on the circumstances. Think Aurora, Colorado and the cinema shooting where people threw themselves over their loved ones, sacrificing themselves. Most of us are called to lay down our lives in the figurative sense. Think spouses who care for an Alzheimer's-patient husband/wife. Think parents of a disabled child. Even parents who cancel that long-planned getaway in order to support their child's sports schedule lay down their lives. It may be a sport the child adores, but the parents, not so much. The list goes on and on and on.
This is real love.
So, as I lay in bed pondering, did I really answer the question about what is love? Did my character, Camryn, really have a grasp? These words popped into my head "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." I did know. Camryn did know. The answer had been written down for over 2000 years. I didn't answer the question; I was reminded of the answer. And now I am reminding you of the answer too.
