Offering of Love

This past week as I shared my story of transferring to Lewisville High School from Marcus High School, something struck a chord and people I didn’t know were saying one of my favorite things to hear: “Me too.” The tiny little phrase that helps us remember we aren’t alone in this crazy life. “Me too. I feel that too. I get it.” About half way through the day, in spite of the incredible support and encouragement bouncing around, I started to feel uneasy. By the next morning, I was stressed and by day 2, I was outright scared. Here’s the thing: I felt exposed. What if “they” know I’m not as confident about all this as I come across on the computer screen? What if “they” figure out I’m still a lot like that scared little white girl walking through the halls on the first day whose friend said, “You look a little nervous. Can I walk you to class?”

I feel like I walked onto stage expecting a few close friends, my husband and my mother to listen to my story about high school and sitting there instead were 20,000 strangers. This is the voice of fear, the resistance that Stephen Pressfield describes in his book The War of Art.

“Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do. Remember our rule of thumb: The more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.”

I’m still afraid. I’m still unsure about walking these halls. I can listen to the voice of fear. I can retreat. Or I can keep going because I believe all of our stories matter! They connect us. I felt so loved and transformed during my time at Lewisville and wanted to reciprocate that gift so I made a small offering of my love by sharing about the joy and love others gave to me.

This is how love works. It grows. Exponentially.

My small offering was multiplied by each of you, from Marcus and Lewisville, who encouraged me in the last week, shared your personal stories and said, “Yes. Me too. I get that. I want to be part of the racial equity movement. I want my son to be part of a diverse community where he is accepted. I want to stand up for those less fortunate than me. I want to participate in human kindness. I have Farmer Pride!” Thank you for those gifts!

This is all we have. Our small offerings of love. Mother Theresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” I’m not sure why I keep expecting anything else to matter. God told us He made us in His image. He told us the greatest of these is love. This is our offering to one another. Small acts of love. Multiplied. To eternity.

I had the privilege of speaking at a friend’s wedding from LHS. She and her wife got married under the most beautiful tree set against the backdrop of the perfect vineyard in Healdsburg, California. There was so much love in the air for those who came to support this couple. The energy was palpable.

Here is a piece of what I wrote for them and shared at the wedding:

Soul to soul with an offering of love.

We come here together.

We are more than cells to survive.

We are beggars with an offering to present.

From near and far we have come

To offer the only valuable thing given to us at birth - our love

We traveled, we called, we cried.  And now.

We sit.  Together.

Soul to soul.  With our offering of love.

In our friendship we create a shared story.

Each friendship here tonight has a story. A season.

And your presence testifies to your offering of love.

By leaving our offering of love with one another

We also take a piece of each other home.

Some days the offering will satisfy your soul

Other days it won’t seem like nearly enough.

Not to worry. Tomorrow is on the heels of today.

And we are witnessing you tonight

Saying, come what may, for all my tomorrows

I will offer you my love.