On Sunday morning I went to Potter's House for coffee, reading and writing. I set up at the end of a long rectangular table, and a few other strangers with laptops and notebooks joined me.
One of them called someone on the phone, and since we were at the same table, I overheard bits and pieces of the conversation — mostly boring, but one thing she said has stuck with me.
She casually mentioned to the person on the other end, I made some fudge and left it on the console in the apartment, if you want to try it. She said this five times. On the last mention she confessed, I spent a lot of time on it, and I'd love if you tried it.
For the woman on the phone, making fudge seemed to be symbolic — more about expressing care or gratitude than providing a dessert. She could have bought fudge, but she made it by hand and, she spent a lot of time on it. She cared. And her real, unspoken question: can you see me loving you?
In a sense, I think we're all doing this: making fudge for each other and hoping the other notices, appreciates, enjoys, reciprocates. We write letters, send thoughtful texts, invite to coffee, host for dinner, call once in a while, remember siblings' names, loan a book or send a song the other might like. We pour ourselves out for each other, wait and wonder: will you notice? will you respond? will you love me, too?
I guess that truly selfless love wouldn't need reciprocity. But maybe truly selfless love would always see and respond.
I've been so grateful lately for the love of my friends, two of whom are pictured on this thumbnail. This morning I'm remembering, We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19).