My Shallow Love Is True

So do you ever worry that you just don't know how to love people? I do. Not very often, but I do.
My ideas on love developed over a normal trajectory-- I always knew as a child that my parents loved me. My siblings loved me. My grandparents loved me. My aunts and uncles and cousins loved me. They all took care of me, and I let them. And I took care to be loving, and when I was old enough (which was not very old), I tried to take care of them as well. That was the beginning of love.
And I don't remember a time in my life when I didn't know that God loves me. In Primary, we sang "I am a Child of God," and it all fit in just right. In Vacation Bible School at the Lutheran Church and Pre-School at the Assembly of God, all these ideas were reinforced as we sang "Jesus Loves Me" nearly every day. I see manifestation of my Heavenly Father's love all around me, so that was never an issue.
Then of course, I had friends to love. This might have been the beginning of the trickiness, because sometimes they didn't act so lovable, but I figured out early on that loyal friends were very special and I loved them for sticking with me.
Anyway, I guess that's all pretty basic. The first time I really remember making a decision about love, however, was the summer I was 12. I was at the beginning of a really awkward stage with bad hair and raging hormones and generally weirdness. I went to the family reunion, anxious to hang out with some of my cousins, but they all had brought friends and kind of left me out. Don't cry for me. It got me acquainted with some of my other cousins-- second cousins who took me under their wing and were so good to me. There wasn't any question of whether I was cool enough. They were cool because they were good to me, and I noticed how they treated me like I was the most important person in the world. So aside from picking up on their cues for what was acceptable in the pop-culture realm of pre-teen identity formation (the reason I love Converse and Depeche Mode to this day, I'm sure), I decided that summer I would be like these cousins-- it wouldn't matter who I came into contact with, I would treat those people with as much love and kindness as I could muster-- like they were the center of my universe. Later experiences helped me reinforce those ideas-- EFY, for example. And somehow, that became part of my identity.
Well, I'm nearly a decade and a half past that initial decision, and for the first time in my life, I'm beginning to wonder if it was exactly right.
Here's the deal-- in some ways, it has served me well. I think I'm generally well-liked, and a lot of it is because I love people. I still hope that someday I'll take my last breath on earth in the midst of doing something for someone else. Oh, there are the little inconveniences, of course-- like men assuming because I love them on principle that I'm madly in love with them, or the ones I'm madly in love with thinking that I treat everyone the same and not figuring it out. But I'm not so concerned about that. It's just that I've begun to wonder if maybe as I spread my love around that some people are getting the shaft.
Hmm... that's not so clear. I guess the problem isn't that I love so many people, because of course, I don't love everyone, and I need to work on it. I think it's the manifestation that gets me in the mire.
For example, I know I sometimes drive my family crazy. I feel like I do a lot with and for them, and they do more in my behalf than I could ever repay. We're a demonstrative group, and we show our love best by taking care of one another. But sometimes, I have to go take care of someone else. For the most part, they're understanding and not resentful. They know that just because I love someone else and they need me doesn't mean I love the family any less. But maybe there are times when I really could have been doing a little bit more for the fam, but I couldn't because I was out trying to be a superhero. Or not even that. Just doing the duty.
I think maybe my friends are the ones who suffer the most on this count. I had a friend ask me a few weeks ago if I was mad at him. I hadn't seen him in ages, and couldn't figure out why he'd think that. He told me he thought I'd been giving him the cold shoulder and confessed to being a little mad at me. I tried to explain how over that particular time period I wasn't ignoring him, it was just that I was busy taking care of some other people. I apologized for making him feel neglected, and I tried to give him a little more attention. But it made me wonder how many people I've managed to unintentionally offend, not because I don't care for them, but because my caring for someone or something else took me elsewhere for a while.
Maybe the issue is that I like to show my love with doing for others-- I'm a real believer in the adage, "actions speak louder than words." When another friend told me the other day that he loved me, I asked him not to say it, because I didn't believe him. Why? Because he doesn't follow through when he says he'll do something. Even when I've let him know how important it is. But maybe I was wrong to ask him not to say it. Some people love by telling and hearing. Just because I love by serving doesn't make him wrong. And maybe if I'd let him say it, he would have been able to follow up with a little more loyalty and kindness. Maybe I squelched his love by not letting him express it.
I have another friend who is convinced that he doesn't love anyone. I worry about him. He does a lot of good in the world, and he thinks his primary motivation is a sense of duty. He worries that his feelings aren't enough to justify calling them love. I hope that he just doesn't recognize the way he loves, and that he really does have loving feelings, but I'm not sure.
Still another friend demonstrates her love by giving gifts. It's funny, because I think she knows I love her when I call her or spend time with her, and though she appreciates it when I send her things, I don't think she wholly loves me just because I pick up presents for her. But that's the way she's most comfortable showing she loves me.
Anyway, this wasn't meant to be some self-analysis or a long diatribe. I just wish I were better at loving, so the people I love knew I'm sincere. Breadth I've got down. And truthfully, I've got depth. I just worry sometimes I look shallow on the surface.