Oh, The Stuff Love Does (Part I)
A few months ago, I started reading a book that I should have read way more than a few months ago.
Many people told me I had to read Love Does, by Bob Goff, but these people don’t know this one little thing about me: if you tell me I should do something, I’m not going to do it. Because you can’t make me. (Geez, what a jerk.)
But once I actually sucked it up and started reading Bob, it was like my soul was a big balloon and he was methodically pumping it fuller and fuller with every word. As Bob wrote about his adventures in life, loving people by saying “yes” to every opportunity set in front of him—from the kid wanting to get engaged to his girlfriend on Bob’s lake that turned into the most elaborate, over-the-top proposal, to encouraging people to make more room in their life to do “stuff” by quitting less important “stuff” every Thursday, to all the children in Uganda who Bob has used his financial and legal resources to save from horrific fates—I was ready to burst. Not with air, but with love.
And when you are so full of love, you have nothing to do but let some of it leak out. My husband became my leak-catcher.
He’d get an email, nudge on the couch or tug on his pajama sleeve every five minutes while I was reading Bob.
“He’s a lawyer, but loves Jesus and people, just like you!”
“He has an office in Disneyland and enjoys being there more than any grown man probably should, just like you!”
“His favorite book is a thesaurus, just like me!” True story. I could read it for hours. (Geez, what a nerd.)
Chris had no choice. He had to read Bob.
And suddenly, he, too, became full.
That intersection of full hearts by two people who love each other, love Jesus and want to love people so much they are bursting at the seams, it’s an incredible and dangerously wonderful place to be.
But scary. Because you start doing things like taking month long breaks from blogging and Googling things like, “What is God’s will for my life?”
Bob says something powerful at the close of his book, though, which is something that I keep returning to, time and time again: just try to figure out the next step, the next good thing, and then do that.
About a month ago, I noticed that Bob was putting on a conference, just a few hours away from us and I just had this feeling we had to go. Bob would be there, Donald Miller (you should read A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Today.), and the ever awesome, Kid President. I had to go.
It turned out, I couldn’t–due to some obligations with my kiddos and some friends’ kiddos–but somebody had to go and represent this family of ours. And thankfully, Chris said he didn’t know why, but he just felt he needed to go.
So even though it didn’t make much financial, logistical or practical sense, Chris drove up early this morning to hear his hero speak.
This afternoon, I talked on the phone with my very full and very love-leaky partner in life, and we both got choked up as he told me about his encounter with Bob. The words of inspiration he’s already heard. And the huge desire we both have to leak some of this love out of us.
I can’t wait for both you and I to hear the rest of this story.
But somehow, I don’t think it’s mine to tell.