The Unlovable


How do we love the unlovable?

My little grandchild sometimes says and believes that, “nobody loves me.” Of course it is not true and quickly she is on to the next adventure or trauma.

We sometimes come to a similar belief and conclusion about ourselves. Usually our pity party takes a while to get over, but it too doesn’t last forever.

These type of events are not fair examples of loving the unlovable. Whether committed by ourselves or another there are times in our life where the unforgivable occurs and it seems that loving the unlovable seems impossible. Nothing can make us or someone else lovable again.

It is amongst the unlovable that saints appear. The friend that tells you his/her love for you is unconditional no matter what you may have done. The saint who cares for the individuals who society has deemed not fixable and thus not worthy of its collective love. The man or woman who hits rock bottom, but finds a way to start loving themselves again and gets back up off the floor. There are thousands of examples.

The truth is there are no unlovables. An impossibility just like my granddaughter who is simply lost in a moment of self-doubt. A second truth is we are just as capable as God to find it within ourselves to love even the unlovable. There is a saint in each and every one of us.





Order is Heaven’s First Law — Alexander Pope
When I was on sabbatical, order kept me sane. When you live in a cubicle with five other men, three bunk beds, six small lockers, and only enough standing room to be counted five times a day, one learns to appreciate order.
You learn to give others space, to keep your small space neat and clean, bed made, and clothes and boots put away. Otherwise there would be chaos. I quickly realized that we were learning lessons about taking care of ourselves, being on time, and respect for every single person going through what each was going through.
Once sabbatical was complete, the world strives to throw us back into chaos. Our lives are quickly consumed by tugs and pulls from many different directions. Sometimes we feel like we are maneuvering around trying to just get home in rush hour traffic with no traffic lights or controls. No order.
Living without order happens over and over, and the only person who can bring order back into our lives is ourselves. We begin reserving time to ourselves for prayer and  meditation. Nothing is quite like a morning’s conversation with God every day to slow us down and allow ourselves to bring order and priorities back to our lives.


One of the great lessons of my sabbatical was how little I really needed, especially in the way of material things or attachments.
Sure I missed family and friends, but I needed very little else. Many of the things society believes we “need” or “must have” would not have fit in my small locker.
Buddhists say, “Real peace arises when our mind becomes free of attachments. When you know that the objects of this world can never give you what you really want.”
What they say rings true to this soul who learned so very much on sabbatical.  Material things, money, and worldly toys are not evil in themselves as long as we know and understand that no worldly attachment can ever give us what we need.
Our wants and needs are never satisfied by the material, only the spiritual.


I have been going round and round with my publisher and the printer of my latest book, A Game of Inches. My patience is worn thin, my frustration and irritation levels are at an all time high, and I have not been my better self.
I tried using my Yoga techniques, contemplative prayer, deep breaths, long walks, and even ate a greasy cheeseburger to no avail.
Yesterday, I finally came to the realization that the solution was not in my control, it belonged elsewhere where it had always resided. My anxiety wasn’t adding anything to the equation, and probably was more harmful to the solution than helpful.
As the expression goes, “I had to let it go.” I had to lay those worries down and go back to what I do best — writing.
This isn’t the first time I have gone through such a cycle, and it points out how extremely difficult it is to follow Christ’s admonition — be not anxious. God will provide.
The books still haven’t arrived, but I know they will soon enough. Sometimes we have to just relearn that there are things outside of our powers and when they are, we have to let them go.
I have to remember “If you write it, eventually the books will come.” (“Pretty bad, Hubbell” Suzy just said.)