love
Love is patient, Love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast,
it is not proud. It is not rude,
it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil
but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects,
always trusts,
always hopes,
always perseveres.
Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
My daughter Riley wants to have breakfast with Ursula.
Recently, the kids watched The Little Mermaid again, and for the next day and a half, Riley and I talked about Ursula. “Mom, one day when we go to Disney, can I have breakfast with Ursula?”
I stifled a chuckle and looked down at the cutting board and the peppers I chopped. “Uh, Rye, I don’t think they have an option for breakfast with Ursula.”
“Aww, but I just want to have breakfast with her!”
Zoe chimed in, raising an eyebrow at her sister. “She’s dead, Riley. Ursula is dead.”
I tried a gentler approach. “Well, sweet girl, most people don’t want to have breakfast with Ursula.”
Riley looked up at me, clearly puzzled. “Ursula has good hair. And I like her skin. It’s purple! Purple is my favorite color. But I don’t want her to be mean to people. I don’t like it when she’s mean. …Mom?”
“Yea?”
“Why is Ursula an octopus? And why does she steal Ariel’s voice? That’s not nice. I don’t like it when Ursula is not nice. She needs to learn to be kind to other people.”
Zoe breaks in, “Riley, could we not talk about this? I don’t like to talk about the stealing Ariel’s voice part.”
Ignoring her, Riley continues, “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Can I can have breakfast with Ursula?”
The next day, after the kids were at school, I found a letter on the table.
Dear Ursula,
I love you so much. You’re the best octopus ever,
and you have purple skin. I like your hair so much.
Why do you turn into a woman in that movie? I don’t like it when
you’re mean. Ursula needs to learn to be nice to people. I want
to have breakfast with you. I think you’re the best octopus in the
whole world. I love you so much.
Love, Riley
Sometimes it’s sad to me that Riley has such a hard time connecting with kids her own age, because love is something she does well. Autism, in spite of its overwhelming challenges, carries with it certain strengths. Autism is the reason Riley has no guile, and the reason she’s never quite understood manipulation, or deceit, or pretense. Autism allows Riley to love freely without considering the pain that may be associated with loving someone incapable or unwilling to return her affection. Autism gives Riley the ability to see people more clearly, because it enables her to gaze straight through all the confusing and awkward social signals, uncomfortable body language, and misspoken words that often confuse the rest of us. Riley never requires proof that another person is worthy of love. She just loves.
A few weeks ago, our girls started another season of Upward basketball and cheerleading. The first night of practice, Riley was so excited she could hardly sit still. I heard her telling Adam, “I’m going to play basketball again this year!” Our favorite coach had sent an enthusiastic email welcoming the team and mentioning that two new girls would be joining the group. When I told Riley she’d have the opportunity to meet new friends, she jumped in the air. “OH yea!!” She skittered around the living room, giggling. But when she got to practice, she found out that both of the new girls were sick. At home, I asked her about practice and her shoulders drooped.
“Did you have a good time at practice?”
“Yea…uh huh, I did.”
“Well, are you okay? You look sad.”
“I just…I just wanted to meet the new girls. I just wish they weren’t sick. I just wanted to meet them at practice.”
That night, she prayed for her new teammates, asking God to make them better so that they could come to practice and she could meet them. And just this last week, yet another new teammate was added to Riley’s team. When we walked in the gym, Riley spotted her immediately and skipped a few steps. “Mom, look,” she said, pointing. Riley still doesn’t understand that other people don’t enjoy being on the other end of her point. “A new girl! What’s her name?!”
“I don’t know, Rye. Why don’t you go ask her?”
I should have said, “Why don’t you go over there and say, ‘Hi, my name is Riley. What’s your name?'” I realized this about a half second too late, as Riley ran over to her new teammate calling, “Hey, GIRL, what’s your name??” When her new friend responded, Riley just nodded and said “Oh, okay,” and then bounced enthusiastically to the back of the drill line.
Riley loves so easily, accepts so freely, and she meets every new opportunity for relationship as though it’s the thrill of her life.
A few days ago, as she bounced around the kitchen writing Valentines for all of her friends at school it was almost painful to me to have to explain to her that most of her friends wouldn’t understand if she wrote, “I just love you so much,” on their cards like she wanted to. I could tell this confused her immensely, but she contented herself with pointing out the treat she’d picked to affix to each card. She kept saying, “I think they’re really going to like that I gave this to them.”
Months ago, Riley fell in love with a dear friend of mine after spending just a few minutes with her. My friend, who is sensitive and caring, funny and deep, tremendously thoughtful and generous, seemed surprised when I told her she had so quickly become one of Riley’s favorite people. My friend is serious about love and admirably, rightfully careful with those words because of the depth of meaning and responsibility they carry with them. “How could she love me?” My friend asked honestly. “She barely knows me.”
I explained to her that Riley is tremendously perceptive about the soul, unencumbered as she is by social distances. Put up walls all you like; Riley will look right through them. Then she’ll knock them down, unaware they ever stood in her way. “Riley just loves,” I said, “she doesn’t wait to see if you’re worthy of her love or if you deserve her love or if you will be careful with her love. She just loves.”
I love the way that she loves. And it also scares me. It pains me that I’ve had to teach my daughter, repetitively, to be careful with her love. That I’ve had to teach her caution with strangers. That, for her sake, it’s been necessary to define words like, “meanness,” “evil,” “hurtful,” and “dangerous.” I don’t want to mute the truth that every human being needs love and is loved by God. And perhaps lessons on loving carefully in this world are the hardest to teach a child who knows, from the heart, that love is the only unconquerable thing. Everything else will one day pass away, and yet “these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13: 13).”
I’ve watched Riley love so many people with whom I’ve stumbled, inadequately trying to make a connection or figure out what to say. Because of who she is, Riley loves purely. She always seems to know exactly what other people need to hear, and because she has no hidden agendas, they can believe she’s genuine.
1 Corinthians 13 has long been one of my absolute favorite passages of scripture because I think I could read it every day for the rest of my life and not cease to be challenged by it. The day that I married my Valentine, I asked a dear friend to precede the processional with a reading of 1 Corinthians 13.
Before my wedding, Mom told me she’d had a heart-to-heart with Kevin before our engagement. She smiled as she recounted the conversation. “I asked him, ‘Do you love my daughter?’ And he didn’t hesitate, Lisa. He said, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Then I asked him to promise me that he’d always take care of you, and he did. He promised me that he’d always do his very best.”
And he has. Since the day he pledged his love, my man has loved me God-style. He loves well. He loves 1 Corinthians 13-love, the real deal. I can’t tell you the number of times since that day that Mom has said, “Well, he promised me, and he’s kept his promise.”
I long to love well. And not just those who love me. Christ said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” and “if you love those who love you, what reward will you get (Matthew 5: 44-48)?” So I ask God to help me love His way, and to make me better at it daily. I want to marinate in 1 Corinthians 13 and see it emblazoned on my heart. I want to give true, enduring, boundless, wise love, fervently and even excessively. In my lifetime, I’ve known very few people who love as well as Riley does, but her father has certainly always loved me well. So maybe some of her loving she gets simply from being herself, autism and all, and some of it she gets from watching her dad. After all, he always has been her very favorite person.
