a good hurt (love)

Sometimes, I’m a pretty emotional guy. I’m not entirely sure why, but a large part of it is bound to the simple fact that I care. This affects the way I approach a lot of things, and it has a particularly profound impact on the way I teach (which I do) and relate to young people (which I also do).

Every year, it seems, there comes a point when the passage of time makes me sentimental, when the “blues” take center stage, when young men and women leave my immediate presence. This sentimental impulse is intensified when I encounter those rare individuals who have granted me permission, if you will, to enter their lives in a more personal fashion.

As a teacher of (too?) many years, I’ve gotten to know many impressive individuals (and quite a few unimpressive ones, too :-) ). Occasionally, however, my life intersects the lives of special ones. Special ones are just that, special, at least in my opinion. They are often individuals of impressive skill, unusual maturity, and genuine integrity. They are young men and women who have been placed in my life by the providence of God, individuals who have connected with me on a more personal level, students who have allowed me the incredible privilege of being a part of their lives.

For all of these things and more, I am immensely grateful. But, as I said earlier, this is not always an easy task, for I must also allow these same students to grow and eventually venture out of my presence (though I don’t want to exaggerate my influence or worth). And this, without question, is sad. Frankly, it hurts when good young people go on their way. And the pain is all the more profound when those “special ones” (and you know who you are) leave my classroom.

I like lots of kids; I really do. But a small number of them touch my heart more deeply than the rest. They are young individuals I truly care about. In every way that is good and right, I honestly love them. But, sometimes love is difficult. The words of the Incubus song Love Hurts say it this way:

Love hurts . . .
But sometimes it’s a good hurt
And it feels like I'm alive.
Love sings,
When it transcends the bad things.
Have a heart and try me,
‘cause without love I won’t survive.

Yeah, sometimes love hurts, but it’s a good hurt. I don’t like the pain, of course, and I truly dread the feelings associated with this whole process. But I’m also reminded that I’m alive, that some things are worth the effort, the agony, the uncertainty, the pain. I also believe that love sings, that–at least in my case–it simply must be expressed. Indeed, to this end, I feel compelled, at times, to give those special people, those rare individuals whom I encounter, a clear indication of my care, my concern, my appreciation, my respect, my love.

“Special ones”–you know who you are. Know, as well, that my commitment to you is unending, my gratitude profound, my willingness to assist you in any way I can unflinching, my love enduring. God has placed you in my life, and I marvel at the opportunities and the blessings. Though there is a measure of hurt along the way, I want you to know that it’s worth it all. For you, it's worth it all. It’s a good kind of hurt. (Love, Mr. D)