"That was the best birthday ever…"

You’ve got to be kidding me.  After the week we’d had, those were the last words I expected to hear out of the mouth of my young son. 

Though the week had a benign beginning, by Tuesday we were rushing him to Children’s Hospital with a case of acute appendicitis.  After a long stint in the ER and an extended visit to the surgery ward, we ended spending a couple sleepless overnights.  Originally the verdict was we wouldn’t be home until the weekend.  When my son learned the news, his disappointment was obvious.  Not only would he miss school activities, Valentines Day and his soccer game, he was also going to miss his birthday.  Resolved to defy the doctor’s prediction, he determined to do everything the doctor instructed in the hopes of being home on his birthday.  Around noon, his wish was granted.  As we drove home through snow and ice, I started to plan how we could salvage what remained of the day.  We made his favorite meal, baked cookies, wrapped gifts, hung banners, signed cards and rented his chosen movie.  Though we were all utterly exhausted (and my son was more than a little sore), we enjoyed a near perfect night of celebrating, even if we couldn’t move from the family room couch.

As I wearily helped my son up the stairs toward his bed, he turned toward me with a smile:  "Mom, that was the best birthday ever … I just feel so loved and cared for.  Thanks, Mom.  I love you so much."  Even though his pain was still acute and most of his birthday plans were canceled, he felt loved.  For that reason alone he believed it was unforgettable.  I shook my head, surprised "disappointment" wasn’t the thief of the day.  Instead, his face reflected absolute contentment.  Somehow, the love he experienced trumped the reality of his experiences.  His tummy still hurt and the events of the week remained unaltered.  Still, love in action made all the difference.   

As I consider my son’s surprising perspective, I feel more than a little pang of conviction.  How often do I speak of the word "love" and yet let it end at just that–words?  If a little bit of effort made our love for a little boy come alive, what kind of impact could I make if I demonstrated that kind of love every day?

"If I speak of the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal…"  I Corinthians 13:1

I don’t want to be a noise-maker.  I want to be a woman of demonstrative love:  Audacious, reckless, unrestrained, unexpected.  But wait a second … I DO love my family.  Profoundly.  Didn’t I just demonstrate it tangibly in my care for my son before and after surgery?  Didn’t I prove it when I cooked dinner tonight and folded 137 loads of laundry?  And certainly I would would do just about anything for my friends and those I care about… 

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?  Even ’sinners’ love those who love them.  And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you?  Even ’sinners’ do that …"  Luke 6:32

Evidently my warm-and-fuzzy variety of "easy-to-give" love doesn’t go quite as far and deep as God intends.  For I rarely show love to those who are difficult to love:  whether because of the sheer inconvenience of offering it or the distastefulness of the recipient. 

"This is how we know what love is:  Jesus Christ laid down his life for us.  And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.  If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?  Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth." 1 John 3:16-18

Love is more than a feeling, more than a happy ending to a story or a perfectly executed birthday party.  Love is a verb:  moving, acting, behaving, demonstrating.  Perhaps "love" is even more "love" when it is difficult to offer, inconvenient on the schedule, self-sacrificing in its extent, self-less in its motives.  Love–God’s kind of love–goes beyond words to be an actual physical response to an internal reality. 

I saw a whole slew of sick kiddos at Children’s Hospital this week.  I bet they could use a dose of love-in-action.  And what about the homeless at the Rescue Mission (www.denverrescuemission.org)?  You can tell them you love them with a check, but how about a hot meal or warm handshake?  Have some time to volunteer?  Check out Tennyson’s Center for Children (www.tennysoncenter.org), or Alternative’s Pregnancy Center (www.apcdenver.org).  They never lack for a heart in need of a little tangible love.

Live outside the box.  Let the reality of God’s love blow down the walls of predictability this week.  And next week for that matter. 

The possibilities are endless…the potential even greater.