No One Loves Me

I think there are many people in this world, when they take the time to think about it, feel that no one loves them.  They have internet “friends” and probably many people they socialize with in real life, but they don’t feel “special” to anyone.  Perhaps even their spouse.  There is no one person who they feel truly loves them --- and thinks they are so special.  It’s a lonely feeling.  Maybe that’s why so many people lead such frantic lives, always busy --- so they don’t have to stop and think, about what they feel.  But perhaps it is even sadder when you do stop and think, and consider that you are living your life as best can, even spiritually, and yet you still feel unloved.  It’s like you are doing something wrong, but you don’t know what. 

And you’d like to start doing things right.

I know that feeling.

For me, that was the start of my conversion story, but that’s not the story which needs to be told here.  Here I’d like to talk about that “feeling” that no one loves you.  And I’d ask you to consider that perhaps it is just that, a feeling, not a reality.  Reality is much deeper than just feelings, and although reality is all around us, somehow we are often blind, and do not see.

A while back I was visiting a friend at her home.  A few days earlier I had given her the pile of Christmas cards and small gifts which had been laying on my living room coffee table for weeks; I thought these little things would be uplifting to her, for she continues to suffer from a lingering illness.  When I visited that subsequent day, she commented to me on how good it was to read the cards and notes, especially those from common friends. 

But then she said:  “You are very much loved.”

I casually brushed her words aside.  How could I who spend most of my waking hours caring for an elderly parent be “very much loved?”  As the years continue on in my boring life, close friendships, former co-workers, and the feeling of being wanted and needed, have all drifted away. 

Very much loved?  No one knows me.  How can anyone love a stranger?  And how can I, a stranger feel loved?  Caring for an elderly mother who can’t walk or hear and who doesn’t know me much of the time, how can I be “very” anything, except alone?

But having quiet time and being alone are two different things, one is a blessing few people have: time to reflect and pray.  And the other seems a bad thing, but often it is just a bad feeling, not reality.

This is the Year of Faith in the Catholic Church.  We are to grow in our knowledge of our faith, since we don’t study and ponder it nearly enough, and even when we do we don’t really apply it correctly.  In the parable of the Vine and the branches, we are the branches attached to Jesus and His Church and gaining nourishment from Him.  I fear, however, many of us can’t conceive of that.  We don’t see ourselves as growing vines, but rather as barren, dry, cracked-earth fields.  Empty.  Alone.  Unloved. 

We pity ourselves.  And we brush aside the truth which doesn’t fit our pre-conceived notions, even as I brushed aside my friend’s comment:  “You are very much loved.”

Why is that?  Why can’t we see or accept the reality that WE ARE loved?  Or is it that we need to be in control of everything:  “If I were truly loved, here is how people would be treating me.”  Do we feel we must define how they FREELY love us --- “freely” love us?  Why can’t we see the reality, that we are blessed, that we are loved?

I think the “unloved” feelings of many people parallel the feelings of “poor” people in our country.  If you ask someone: “Are you poor,” many people will say yes.  If you ask them: “Are you wearing clothes?”  They’ll say yes.  If you ask them: “Did you eat today?”  They’ll say yes.  If you ask them: “Did you have a mother and father?”  They’ll say yes.  If you ask them: “Did you EVER receive a gift from someone?”  They’ll say yes.

You could ask them many more questions, about the television they have, the car, the home, their children.  Most who are “poor” would say yes to having all these things.  The REAL question, however, (and which they would not know how to answer) is: “Don’t you realize how rich you are?”  As my friend demonstrated to me when she read the cards and notes I had received at Christmas, it was obvious to see how loved I am.  The one who couldn’t see that was me, because I had my own definition of love and I wished that definition upon others.  But others had their own definitions of love, of love for me.  And I was blind to what they offered.

So, what are you to do?  Look for your old Christmas cards?  No, I don’t think so.  But you should look at my tale here and see the whole story.  For the story of understanding how I am loved started with God.  He blessed me with His love, and many people who entered my life.  And then I sent out Christmas cards to those friends, and even some to people who I haven’t seen in many years.  But the cards I sent out were cards to special people (even if they didn’t feel special); they were people I remember, people who were special in my life.  Perhaps only for a year or two, perhaps even for only months, yet I could tell you stories about them and our times together --- and how I treasured them.  I send them cards at Christmas because it is a special time, a time to remember love.  Perhaps next year instead of the short note or Christmas letter saying how things have gone with my mom this past year, instead I’ll tell them why I remember them.  And that they are important.  And that they are loved. 

If you want to be loved, you must give love.  God kicks it off; He loves all his children --- even you --- people enter our lives and make a difference, and then we pass it on.  It’s the two big commandments, love God and love neighbor.  And love comes back to you.  If only you would let yourself be loved, in the way people want to love you, or remember you.  You are very much loved, you just don’t know it.

It all starts with God’s giving love, and then our choice to give love.  And accept love.

Here Is My Life

Behold the eyes of the Lord
Search the face of the earth
To find hearts that are given,
Seeking souls to make pure.
To inflame the world’s darkness,
To warm cold hearts with Grace.

Am I here, Lord, for such a time, for such a place?

Here is my life, Lord, heart, mind and body,
My soul’s surrender, take it for Your own.
And you will lead where I know, where only love can go,
Here is my life, O Lord, my life for You.

There is a love, stronger than death,
Passion deeper than life,
In the hearts purest longing,
Lies the pearl of great price.
One Love, all loves surpassing,
True surrender the cost.

Am I here, Lord, to bear this love and share its cross?

Here is my life, Lord, heart, mind and body,
My soul’s surrender, take it for Your own.
And you will lead where I know, where only love can go,
Here is my life, O Lord, my life for You.

© 2004 – The Servants of the Word, Ann Arbor, MI