“A Love That Will Not Let Us Go”

Isaac prefers his son Esau. Isaac’s wife, Rebecca, prefers the other son, Jacob. And Jacob loved Rachel more than Leah. 

Family drama.

Imagine you were writing the story of your family of origin… Did you ever get the sense that your mother or father preferred one sibling to another? Or, perhaps, did a brother date or marry a neighbor and you knew that your neighbor’s sister secretly pined for your brother… 

There’s a reason that family systems therapy is compelling. So much of what makes us tick – for better or worse – is rooted in our relationships with our parents and as members of our unique family of origin. 

Whether our parents were economically secure or economically anxious, physically well or chronically sick; mentally well or mentally unwell; attentive to us or disengaged; our parents have a huge impact on our own well-being, mind, body and spirit. Similarly, if a sibling was in poor physical  health or struggled with mental health challenges or addiction, the whole family is affected.  

The coping mechanisms we develop as children to navigate family stresses and dysfunction become part of our personalities—sometimes for good, sometimes for ill, and often for good and ill.  For example, in a chaotic family,  one child might become a helper, but as an adult, be so busy taking care of others, they struggle to take care of themselves. Another child in the same family might try to fly under the radar and be content and creative by themselves, but as an adult struggle with social interactions. 

From the moment we take our first breath until the moment we take our last, family dynamics play a tremendous role on our life journeys. Just a few days ago, a 75 year old friend sent a somewhat terse email to me.  A few minutes later, he wrote again to apologize. “Currently in the midst of ‘family stuff.’” It seems no matter how mature we are, “family stuff” has a way of pushing our buttons. 

Perhaps this is why so many people benefit from therapy.

The psychotherapist John Welwood suggests that a core wound most of us carry from our families of origin is that on some level we are not confident that we are truly loved for who we are. 

What did it do to Jacob to feel not fully loved and accepted by his father, Isaac? What did it do to Esau to not feel fully loved by his mother, Rebecca? What did it mean to sisters Leah and Rachel to be in competition for the love of Jacob? And what does it do to us when we have internalized that we are not fully loved by a parent or by a partner or even by the larger church or society?  

Welwood posits that when we feel insecure in love, especially from someone who is supposed to love us, we have difficulty trusting,   fear being misused or rejected,   harbor jealousy and vindictiveness,   have to argue and prove we’re right,   and feel easily hurt or offended,   often blaming others for our pain.  

YIKES!

When we are triggered, there’s a good chance that underneath the layers of our upset there is some connection to the pain of feeling unloved by someone who was supposed to love us. 

According to Welwood, “Not feeling loved and then taking that to heart is the only wound there is.”

Thank God that is not the end of the story!

On the human level, because there are no perfect parents, no perfect partners, no perfect people, our ability to feel love and to love others often falls short. 

For years, Stan felt that his mother did not understand or appreciate him.  Because of this, he always felt some emotional distance towards her.  What made their relationship even more complicated was that Stan’s mother had a chronic illness. From the time he was a youngster, he had tried to do whatever he could to relieve her suffering and bring her happiness, but nothing worked.  (He didn’t understand that his mother finding happiness was up to her, not him. A common error we make when someone we love is struggling.) 

In the final year of his mother’s life, a friend suggested that Stan engage in a Tibetan Buddhist practice: remembering the kindness of his mother.  When he began to do this, something inside him opened up.  His heart began to soften and he realized that his mother could only love him in the ways she was able, given who she was and what she had experienced in her life.

Then, an even more amazing thing happened.  As Stan began to see his mother differently, as he forgave her, his capacity to be open and loving not just towards her, but towards other people in his life—and himself—noticeably improved.  

It was as if the stones blocking his heart were being removed and the love that was always present within him, Divine Love, began to flow more freely.

Though we can get glimpses of unconditional love in this lifetime – when a baby is born, when we fall in love, and, often, when we die – it is impossible for us to be consistently loved or loving in all of our human relationships.

But, as St. Paul says in Romans, “nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”

No matter the family drama we inherit or even perpetuate, God’s love is constant.  Remember the words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, “God makes the sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.”  

A mistake we humans often make is expecting our parents or our partners to give us what only God can offer – fully faithful, ever present love.  Here is the crucial insight from Professor Welwood:  “We would like, and often expect, relative human love to be absolute, providing a reliable, steady flow of attunement, unconditional acceptance, and understanding. When this doesn’t happen, we take it personally, regarding this as someone’s fault—our own, for not being good enough,   or others’,  for not loving us enough. 

But the imperfect way our parents—or anyone else—loved us has nothing to do with whether love is trustworthy or whether we are lovable. It doesn’t have the slightest bearing on who we really are. It is simply a sign of ordinary human limitation, and nothing more.”

In all likelihood, none of us had perfect parents.  In all likelihood, none of us are perfect parents.  In all likelihood, not one of us has a perfect partner or is a perfect partner.

But, in God’s eyes, you are beloved. Through spiritual practice – like prayer, meditation, and worship – we can connect with Absolute love, with God’s spirit, with the One in whom we live, move and have our being.  Spiritual practices allow us to tap into a Love that is ever-present, ever-faithful, and ever-trustworthy.  

If we can recognize the difference between limited human love and unlimited Divine love, we may begin to unhook from expectations of others or ourselves that simply can not be met.  Recognizing the difference, we can look to God for what God, and God alone can give us – a love that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, can take from us.  

Isaac prefers his son Esau. Isaac’s wife, Rebecca, prefers the other son, Jacob. And Jacob loved Rachel more than Leah. And God loves all of them and all of us. Amen.

SOURCE: 

“Perfect Love, Imperfect Relationships” by John Welwood, Shambhala Publications, 2005.