It was just football. It wasn’t even a live game…it was just a football documentary…on Netflix of all places. And yet there I was–sitting in the soft glow of the TV set and the lighted Christmas tree that we had put up in an effort to grab joy wherever we can–crying. Like, full on, tears down the cheeks, lump in the throat, crying. Alone. On the couch. Over football. I’m not sure where it came from. I had been having a pretty good day. I had gone to the gym to work out. I had met my step goal for the day. I had spent quality time with my spouse and my dogs after a good morning of worship at church. And all of a sudden, the tears came. The documentary series follows three NFL quarterbacks through the 2022-2023 NFL season–Patrick Mahomes, Kirk Cousins, and Marcus Mariota. We see their highs, their lows, their victories, their defeats, their questions about work-life balance, their families, and the ways their contracts and injuries impact it all. But the part that got me all up in my feelings happened very near the end of the last episode. The Kansas City Chiefs had just beaten the Philadelphia Eagles 38 to 35 in yet another Super Bowl in which my beloved Chicago Bears did not appear (I’m not bitter though 😉). As the Chiefs are celebrating their big win, we see Patrick Mahomes find his father–a one time professional baseball player in his own right–in the crowd. They embrace, the young Mahomes tells his dad he loves him, and as the two hold each other, his dad responds, “I ain’t never seen anything like you. You’re different. I love you to death, baby, you know I do.” The embrace continues for a moment longer, then breaks into high fives and celebratory shouts. I’m tearing up right now just thinking about it. There are many reasons, I’m sure, for my tears. I mean, I’m a sucker for a good sports story–not to mention one that is complete with music that swells in just the right spots, and has offered an entire season of in-depth character development that goes beyond just, “he’s good at football.” But as I reflect this morning, I can’t help but think about the power of words from someone we love–both the words we long to hear, and the words that end all of our longing. And I can’t help but think about how–too many times–we let things stand in the way of saying things that need to be said–of speaking the words of affirmation and love that someone around us may not even be aware that they need to hear, but do. Or speaking the words of affirmation and love for another that our hearts long to pass across our lips. There’s a whole lot of reasons for this, I think. When we speak our love or our affirmation for another–even another we’ve known, been married to, raised, or been with for awhile–there is a vulnerability we feel in that moment between when we speak those words and the other person responds. When we tell a teenager how proud of them we are and how much we love them and the person they’re becoming, we feel vulnerable, wondering if they’re going to roll their eyes or drop all pretenses and wrap their arms around us. When we tell a friend how blessed we feel to have them in our lives, we feel vulnerable, wondering if they’re going to change the subject right away, or if they’re going to let any cool facades they might otherwise employ in such a moment fall to the floor as they respond that they feel the same way. Each time we say, “I love you,” to a partner–whether it’s the first time ever or the first time that day after 40 years together–there’s still always that moment when the words leave our lips and we wonder–even if just for a split second, “Will they say it back?” “Is this the time when it all changes?” “What if they stopped feeling the same way?” Any way you slice it, most of us hold our breath until we hear some of the most magical words in the history of language: “I love you, too.” Exhale. Which makes me wonder, do we really have to wait until we win the Super Bowl, or reach some amazing feat to speak words of love and affirmation for someone in our lives? Do we have to wait for birthday cards and Christmas parties to tell someone what they mean to us? Do we really have to be sure that someone will parrot words of love and affirmation back to us before we’ll open up and tell them how we feel? Why? What are we afraid of? Being uncomfortable? Being told we’re “too much?” Being rejected? I’m not minimizing those things. Those feelings are valid, AND, as one of my seminary professors once asked after each scripture passage he read, “So what?” What if everything we fear does happen? What if we are uncomfortable? What if we are rejected and are told we are “too much?” So what? While I’m at it, there is a somewhat popular thought in some circles that suggests that if we overuse love words and affirmations, they get watered down and mean nothing. The idea being that it’s not special unless we parse it out over our lifetimes. Tell me though, what’s the right number of times a person can hear “I love you?” Twice a year? Once a month? Only if they do something great? What’s the benchmark? Who gets to decide? I’m reminded that in the book of Genesis, we are told a story about how God creates all of creation, including humans, and after each being is created, God says, “This is good. This is really, really good.” Before we do anything to earn it. Before we do anything to screw it up. Before our insecurities and uncertainties, God called us “Good.” And throughout scripture, God calls us “good” in many ways and in many circumstances. In my own life, I see how God continues to call me “good,” without me doing anything exceptional or what others might call worthwhile. God keeps wrapping arms around me and whispering in my ear, “I ain’t never seen anything like you. You’re different. I love you to death, baby, you know I do.” AND GOD DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU TOO. So, who in your life needs to hear words of love and affirmation today? What are the words that you’ve been storing up in your heart–waiting for the “right time” to say? What’s holding you back from leaning into love? Love unspoken doesn’t do a thing. Love undemonstrated demonstrates nothing. The world just seems to be in need of more love being shared–even if it doesn’t always end up doing what we want it to do once we’ve shared it. Creating a world filled with more love and affirmation with you, Pr. Melissa Comments are closed.
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Rev. Melissa Sternhagen
Rev. Melissa Sternhagen was called as the pastor of St. Paul Congregational UCC in June of 2020. Prior to her call to St. Paul, Pr. Melissa worked as a hospice chaplain in the Ames, IA area, following pastorates at rural churches in Central Iowa and Southern Illinois. Pr. Melissa is a second-career pastor with a background in agribusiness and production & supply operations. She received her M.Div. from Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis, MO, and holds a MA Ed. in Adult Education and Training, and a BA in Organizational Communications. Archives
December 2024
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