"'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4"
Last weekend, I went to my first hospice volunteer orientation (another is to come this Saturday). Among the many other things that were discussed, one of their resident chaplains read aloud a list (which I found here) of the various, respective ways that various children defined love. The above quotation struck me more than any of the others, resounding in me for a while..
Perhaps this child had a different message to convey in mind when he said the above, but to me the first thing that came to mind was how I have no honor left to be found in the people I have loved's mouths. I cannot blame them-- the blame is all mine, no matter if they did wrong or not-- but I so wish that they had something to remember me for (and speak of, and love) than spite, hatred, and passive-agression. I broke all love they had for me, and now they proclaim it to the nations: Look! I have struck again in sly evil, yet my prey is not defeated!
The lack of love you hold for me shows. I know I cannot fall into your (or your people's) good graces. You remember me with disdain and so you speak of me with disdain.
My sins are many and well repeated; my love is buried. You love me not. You love me not. Never have you loved me. I am without advocate in this world, for I have done nothing to garner either the pity, respect, or admiration that causes one to uphold a name.
I remember you all.. The good and bad. If it's the least I can do, your name is safe with me. What's love if I cannot do that?