Is It Wrong to Love Without Limits?

Entering the kitchen by the light of my Apple Watch torch, I notice my tea tin trolley isn’t parallel to the dresser. I slide it into a more satisfying right-angle-to-the-wall position before reaching for the kettle to make my first hot drink of the day.

As I pour boiling water into my glass mug over a spoonful of Singapore Breakfast tea leaves, I think about Duncan, who insists on pegging the washing out using matching pegs for each item. I’ve never done that. I’m too impatient to search the basket for pegs of the right colour. But I still have a lot in common with my son, who likes things to be arranged precisely, in particular ways.

Mug in hand, I pad in my Hot Bod socks across the cold tiles to the living room, turn on the lamp, and scan the room. What needs adjusting before I can sit on the sofa in peace and say my prayers? There’s an unfolded knitted throw, abandoned before bed last night, and two chewed dog toys in the middle of the carpet. Just like Duncan, I put things into their correct place.

It took me many years to see a connection between my son and myself. I didn’t think I could possibly be like him. Surely no one would sigh with impatience or smile with amusement at me?

I share personality traits with another one of my children.

One day, while sipping coffee in a cafe, I asked my daughter Charlotte, “Which of the kids in our family are like Dad? Which ones are more like me?”

Charlotte quickly matched kids to parents, and I nodded until she came to Gemma-Rose, our youngest child. “She’s definitely like you, Mum,” said Charlotte.

“Me? No!” I shook my head and asked, “In what way is she like me?”

“Gemma-Rose has strong beliefs and opinions. She won’t be swayed by the crowd.”

I guess that’s good. But it can also be bad. I’ve discovered that not being swayed can easily turn into belittling others’ opinions. It can result in arrogance and impatience with people who disagree with me. There’s a temptation to want always to be right.

It’s a shock when we discover something negative about ourselves, isn’t it? We’re often not as good as we think. But becoming more self-aware allows us to do something about our faults.

How do we see what we need to work on? And then how do we improve? How do we rub the sharp edges off our personalities, which get in the way of our relationships with others?

I think the answer is love.

Unlimited love is changing who I am. It’s gently bathing me, little by little, in a revealing light. It makes me yearn to be a better person for those who love me, regardless of my faults.

The world doesn’t want us to love without limits, does it? Many parenting experts warn us to stay away from unconditional love. They say that withdrawing love teaches kids to behave.

I experienced conditional love as a child. When I did something that disappointed my parents, they isolated me within a freezing, unbearable, long-lasting silence that influenced my behaviour.

So, conditional love worked? It taught me right from wrong? No. Limited love taught me to avoid uncomfortable situations by doing what I was told. It didn’t inspire me to strive to be a better person. I didn’t even understand what that meant. All I was concerned about was survival, not virtue. It also made me distrust the world. I declared that I’d rely on myself when I was an adult. No one would control my life except me.

As a new parent, I read books written by popular people that warned me not to let my child take over my life. I had to get her into a routine and ensure she knew the rules. I needed to stay in control.

I had to limit love.

I wanted to remain in control, so I tried making my daughter fit into my life, refusing to change to accommodate her. Then, one day, I realised I was sending my child down the same path I’d travelled. I was giving her the same message my parents gave me: you’re not really loved. And this was sad because I loved her so very much.

I ended up ignoring the expert advice and did things differently. I loved unconditionally.

I loved without limits because of my daughter, not realising this kind of love would change me. It’s still transforming me. This is Love’s life-long project.

Unconditional love isn’t something to fear. It won’t restrict and suppress us. We won’t end up controlled by someone else if we love. Oh no, that’s what limiting love does.

The world has got things back to front.

Gemma-Rose and I browse a few shops, and then have coffee in a cafe. We’re relaxed, enjoying each other’s company and conversation, despite us being people with strong views who could clash. Today, I’m aware. I’m not trying to impose my opinion. I don’t have to be right.

As I look at my gorgeous daughter, her face alive with joy, I think, How could love be wrong? Why would anyone want to limit it?

One day, when we discuss our personality traits again, I hope someone says, “She’s like you, Mum. She cares. She’s generous. She has compassion. She loves without limit.”

I want to love well.

I want to become the person God created me to be.

I want to love like God loves me.

Do you?

So, What Do You Think?

Can you see yourself in your kids? Do you ever worry that the world is right: loving unconditionally is wrong? And do you have a favourite kind of tea?