Unconditional Love
Over the last few years, the complexity of love has been a journey that has taken me over numerous highs and lows. In a world where love seems to be becoming increasingly scarce - homes in Palestine filled with children being bombarded because of outdated beliefs and ego, UK streets being torn apart with hate-spewed rhetoric rooted in misinformation and discrimination, and at the Olympics the right of a participant to showcase skill and prowess has been overshadowed by cries of supposed physical advantages which have been debunked.
Love can be displayed in numerous ways. The words that we share, the actions we commit, the time that we spend with others ... In a world running low on love, I’ve learnt that its many languages can never be practised too often. Acts of service are a form of love prevalent in Pasifika families and built into the fabric of our church.
Growing up, I forewent Saturday afternoons with friends to practise Sunday’s hymns, and I traded opportunities to learn new skills for midweek leaders’ meetings. Serving others was put ahead of serving myself. Messages of thanks were the highest form of payment but often they did not fill a void that took me years to realise existed.
Navigating the complexity of love has been a journey. I don’t have many memories of receiving cuddles or displays of physical affection, but I do remember a lot of material things that shaped my childhood (thanks, Spyro). I remember that saying or even writing ‘I love you’ felt impossible. As I got older, I started to believe I wouldn’t be capable of showing love.
That all changed when I met my partner - now fiancée - and I was given the opportunity to become a stepfather. As a stepchild myself, I understood the feeling of uncertainty and the desire to build a connection. The love between stepson and stepfather is earned, not guaranteed. I never felt like I was a stepson – my stepfather always treated me like one of his own - and that was the feeling I wanted my soon-to-be-seven-year-old stepson to know.
It challenged me to heal from bottled up emotions and questions about what a ‘traditional’ love was. Now, I cannot even think of turning down snuggles with my little man during Sunday family movie night. I always give thanks for the greatest gifts my fiancée gave me: her love and the chance to be a parent.
My world changed again on Tuesday 11 June at 3:21pm when the love of my life brought into the world our beautiful baby girl. Our princess changed our lives and her arrival was the highlight of a challenging year where we lost two of our angels. We named our baby Coda, after the musical term which refers to a passage that brings a piece to an end and significantly different from the rest of the music. She shone a light during a time of anger, confusion and grief.
Over the last few months, my understanding of love has changed again. Seeing my baby learn to smile and respond to us in her own way, outgrow her newborn clothes and soak up all the attention heaped on her, I feel so lucky to be learning a new type of love. A love that is patient, and bigger than I could ever imagine, a love that can withstand mountains of nappies and milk-stained t-shirts.
After spending years serving our youth and church, I now serve my wife-in-waiting and children. I know my role is to teach my children how to love in a world in need of love - to love unconditionally. To love. To love. To love.