Contingent

Contingent. One definition of this word is: dependant on other conditions or circumstances; conditional. What if love is a contingency, in other words, a condition of being dependant on chance, or something incidental to something else? My heart is feeling heavy as I write, an old wound cracking it open, the threat feels real as I recognize my unearthed belief that love could, would, did, does, appear and disappear white and black magic like, without rhyme or reason. Dependent on moods, my parents gave and withheld love, or so it seemed when I was a child. A formula did not exist for getting and keeping love and thusly was born my very own contingency plans, my self protective mechanisms, first Aid and CPR for the heart in times of trouble and eminent threat. If their love appeared and disappeared, mine could too and there has always been the fear that I am somehow disloyal, wishy washy, uncommitted. I am learning that loving is an offering, not a promise. There is no gaurenteed return on investment humanly speaking and yet, somehow, the abundance of love that flows wave like back to me when I give love has threatened to drown me in joy. Better than this, the love that flows my way graciously, without merit, without doing anything right or wrong, good or bad, magically or not, it is bliss. Humans have to learn love, be taught the how's, not the whys. Sometimes the system is slightly broken, a little cracked and needs mending. Love is worth learning, and the best Teacher is available. The middle of the Bible is found in Psalm 118 verse 8: it is better to take refugee in the Lord than to trust in man. God is love and lovingly teaches, leads, redirects corrects me everyday AND, He loves you too.