Then You Will Sing for Me
the way I sing for you
I love Tom. And for all I enjoy and cherish my newer friends (he is too, after all, a relative new-comer to my life), there is of course something unique about the love you have for your “significant other.” For me it has a yearning quality, and it consumes my thoughts often, in a way no other relationship does. It’s so easy and natural for me to muse and wonder and fret and worry over a boyfriend. That should astonish no one, though.
The nature of a new relationship, one that I very much want to succeed, makes me think about and understand certain things in a completely different light.
Even though I like meeting new friends, most of the individuals I think of as “my people”— the ones I see regularly or am very close with— I have known for years. On top of that, most of those people have known each other for years. I seldom feel like I have to explain or defend one friend to another, partly because I am not the reason they know and are having to deal with each other.
Tom and I have what seemed at first to be a surprising number of mutual acquaintances, but really, he met most of the people I consider integral to my life after we started dating (and still has yet to meet some). With him, I am the reason he knows these people. The desperate wanting I have for him to love who I love is a new feeling.
If God has feelings, it makes me wonder, is this how He feels? All these people He loves and He doesn’t just want to be in the middle of separate groups who don’t know (or even dislike) each other— but rather, a peaceful and happy unity? I hadn’t considered about it before, but it’s been my thought-topic of the week, mostly by coincidence. What creates harmony? What creates understanding?
Jared and I talked about how knowing someone’s “story” can be integral to loving them. I mentioned one we both knew, about Jen, who’d written in her diary that she didn’t think she could spend a whole year with that annoying Chris guy. And then she heard his story. And then she married him. The plot of “Avatar” is hackneyed only because it’s so true of human nature that the movie was predictable. He went in hostile, but could not betray them once he knew them.
I guess poetry is not for everyone, but well-crafted words speak deeper to me than performance or pictures or sound. It was delivered a bit hectically in the video shown at church, but the words were in time with what I’d been thinking of: To be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known.
I truly believe that every person has value, regardless of my initial or personal impression. Seeing each individual I encounter, ever, as God’s beloved works swiftly to encourage me to listen and be patient.
As an aside, apparently it is a signature of my personality type that it takes quite a while, years, to get to know an INFJ well enough that “new sides” stop emerging. I can’t say much to verify the truth of that as far as I’m concerned, but it wouldn’t surprise me based on what I know I hold back from people. Some call the INFJ archetype “The Protector,” but not until right now did I realize that I spend nearly as much energy trying to protect myself as I spend trying to protect others. For whatever reason, I seem to get emotionally hurt more easily than I objectively know I should. So then, of course I hold parts of myself back. Why wouldn’t I, when exposure almost always means anguish? I came across a quote today that answered this in the simplest way:
“Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you.
You just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.” —Bob Marley