Where Whimsy and Intentionality Meet

I’ve misunderstood love most of my life.

I owe part of this to 70’s and 80’s piano ballads that played during car rides with my dad growing up. These songs set an expectation for what love is, usually categorized by overwhelming optimism in a ‘kumbaya’ kind of way or crushing heartbreak with absurdly catchy lyrics. We were often at the mercy of 100.3 WNIC for our professors of love:

Elton John’s Your Song was foundational in understanding that you can get away with forgetting the color of a loved one’s eyes as long as you wrap it up in a nice melody. 

Little kid version of me didn’t really know what How Am I Supposed to Live Without You was about, but man, it sure felt like Michael Bolton meant it. 

In John Lennon’s perfect world in Imagine, it’s said that we can love each other well by living for this present moment, without countries or possessions, and find ourselves without greed, hunger, or things to fight over. A more recent rendition of that song also taught me that celebrities probably shouldn’t offer advice on surviving a global pandemic. 

Sorry, love – back to the topic of love. 

I spent years of my childhood learning about Jesus and who He was. Along the way, the Bible mentions that you’re supposed to love God and your neighbor as yourself. And this always seemed easy because for years, I had been a card-carrying member of the group of thought that I was loving others well as long as I wasn’t actively harming anyone in their pursuit of their dreams and day-to-day happiness.

Love seems simple when you contextualize it in this hippie “peace and love,” tie dye tapestry, rose-tinted glasses, brown fringe jacket sense. It’s a nice, carefree way to live life, but in truth, it doesn’t require much, if any, effort and does little to meaningfully impact the world. If this sounds familiar, check your wallet – you may have a membership card for this kind of thinking, too. 

So, what if this Woodstock mindset has it wrong? What does it then mean to actually love God and your neighbor? And, more importantly, what if God means it?

To really understand it, it helps to first experience it.

Bob Goff is a former lawyer who has built schools for vulnerable children around the world, served as a voice for the voiceless in war-torn countries, and has written New York Times best-selling books about his adventures, all while wearing a Micky Mouse watch and setting up his office on Tom Sawyer Island at Disneyland. He’s a man of faith who has dedicated his life to loving God and his neighbors well through intentionality and wild acts of whimsy. Part of his theory on love is a laser-focus on being available to the world around him – he’s serious enough about it that he puts his personal phone number in the back of his books in case you’d like to reach out to him about anything that strikes your fancy.

Bob’s adventures with world leaders, capers of tomfoolery, and loving people in outrageous acts have inspired me in ways no stories have before. He’s taught me that love and faith are inseparable forces heading in the same direction, propelling a life of selflessness and meaning.

His words have meant a great deal to my friend, Will, too. We’ve spent hours together talking about dreams of loving the world well, while also planning the perfect time to call Bob’s number. We agreed that once we had the perfect talking points, we’d give him a call. 

Little did I know, Will meant it.

In the immediate days after losing my dad, life was a monotone blur; a going-through-the-motions sort of deal because you don’t know what day it is and life hasn’t felt real for some time. It was a long stretch of deep grief with intermittent periods of asking, “Wait, did that really happen?” It’s a strange sort of numbness that I can only explain as a bodily coping mechanism designed to get you to the next day without being overcome by the shock and anxiety an unexpected loss brings. 

On the day of my dad’s funeral, we had a beautiful “Home-going” service at our church, surrounded by loving family and friends. It was filled with memorable moments, but most of the day felt like a scene in a war movie where a grenade had just gone off. You duck and cover to make it through, but the smoky haze and disorienting ringing in your ears makes the world around you fairly imperceivable. You try to make sense of everything, but in reality, you’re just glad you’re able to still put one foot in front of the other.

After all of the events of the day had concluded, people began to slowly file out of the banquet hall that hosted the funeral luncheon. Of the remaining guests was my buddy, Will. He had been around in the days since my dad’s passing, quietly in the background, waiting as a friend on-call, if and when support was needed. 

As everything was wrapping up, Will pulled me aside and said three of the most impactful words I’ve heard to date: 

“I called Bob.”

What? Why? When? I figured the “who” and “how” likely involved Will and a cell phone, but the other questions felt relevant. 

Will wasn’t able to reach Bob on his initial call, but at the end of the voicemail, Bob left his email address to drop him a line. So, Will didn’t stop there. He sent Bob an email outlining how he had called and was unable to reach him but explained my dad’s passing and the beautiful impact and legacy of his life. He concluded with one shoot-for-the-stars, this-is-what-love-would-do request to Bob. I was a waterfall reading it. 

As I finished the note, Will scrolled down to a response. A day later, our favorite New York Times best-selling author had attached a video:

As I’ve grown closer to Jesus, I’ve learned that love is supposed to be purposeful, often difficult, and a process that requires you to walk in the valleys with those around you – whether that be family, friends, or strangers.

Loving as Jesus intended is something so incredibly different that it wakes you up from what you’ve thought you’ve known love as. It’s backspacing that small, guarded text and instead sending a long paragraph of truth about your belief in the hopes, dreams, and ambitions of a friend. It’s replacing saying “hope you feel better” in passing with chicken noodle soup dropped off at their front door. It’s putting sweat equity and meaningful love into a complete stranger’s life, simply because God first loved you.

Will and Bob loved me well because they know who loved them first. They know the overwhelming peace and joy that comes from being intimately known by a God that calls them His own. In a time where I’d grown tired and apathetic, they knew that they could do something special to break through the dull, floating-through-life spell I’d been under. They chose an intentional and audacious kind of love, and I’m forever grateful.

What my friends did for me was drawn directly from Jesus’s playbook. (Bob, I know we’ve never met, but I now consider us friends – I hope that’s alright.) Jesus chose to be close to the lowly, hurting, mourning, and outcasts of society and loved them well. As someone who has been a member of a couple of those groups, I can attest that being sought out with intentional love in a time of need can change a life. What started out as an unlikely phone call is now a story that I’ll tell my grandchildren; a tale about two heroes who reminded me of God’s never-ending love and faithfulness.

While he’ll never admit it, Will is absolutely one of love’s heroes. He’s talented in everything he does, but he’ll forever be known for his intentional love and the impact he continues to make on eternity. One of the things that I appreciate most about God is that He molds and equips people to become exactly who they need to be at a time when they’re needed most. In my time of need, it was a friend whose life experiences had weaved within him a genuine empathy and understanding, unwavering support, and belief in the power of intentional love.

I realize that this may all sound contradictory to what our world preaches today. I often hear that love comes from within; you must first love yourself to be able to love others. And, that makes sense on the surface. It’s logical that you would be the steward of your own happiness. 

But the love and acceptance that you’ve been searching for has never been a puzzle, and it’s never been a piece hidden in the depths of your heart. It comes from the Savior who gave His life so that you could find yours.

Here’s who Jesus says you are: a child of God; created with great purpose; forgiven; accepted; never alone; loved. When you know the Creator of the universe loves you without end, it’s easy to find yourself; all it takes is a little effort to believe it. 

Maybe you’ve misunderstood love, too. If there’s one thing I’ve learned:

Love Does.

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