A New Perspective on Love

As the old saying goes, you never know how life is going to sneak up on you.

On a recent fateful day, it sure snuck up on me. I know this is a long story, but one I hope is worthy of your read.

I didn’t see it coming. 

But I am convinced this had to be a divine appointment, set in motion by a God who wanted me to see it… to hear it….to share it.

I am getting better at seeing the opportunity in things. To take that extra time to listen, to learn, and to reflect on random but invaluable encounters which offer profound and timeless truths, especially in a time where the world seems so hopeless, so cruel, and so self-absorbed……. I needed this today.

It began rather unassuming, and ordinary. I found myself at a horse ranch, some 75 miles northeast of Atlanta, Georgia. “Beautiful country,” I say to myself.

I met a wonderful woman, as I was introducing my wife and daughter. We have come to see her facility, under the premise that my daughter might need a place to board a horse if she decides to call the University of Georgia home for a few years. I will call her Kate.

Kate introduces me to another person, who is riding a horse named Hershel. I immediately say, “By chance is this horse named after Hershel Walker?” Kate responds, “Yes he is. My husband made me promise he could name him if we got him. He is black, fast, and strong, and so my husband knew what we needed to name him. By the way, I want you to meet someone.”

For those who have no clue, Hershel Walker is arguably the best and most famous football player to have ever worn a University of Georgia Bulldog uniform. He won the Heisman Trophy in 1982, and had an illustrious career in pro football. While I was only high school, it sticks with me that Hershel Walker put Georgia football on the map as far as I was concerned. My guess is that few people who visit Kate’s house are old enough to remember who Hershel Walker is.

Before long, Kate’s husband emerges from his Saturday chores, and joins the conversations. I will call him Henry. There was nothing particularly interesting about Henry. He seemed like pretty much any other rancher I had met who still plays an active role in his 70’s. But, little did I know an encounter was about to emerge.

Kate says, “Henry, Chad knows why you named Hershel ‘Hershel’.”

Well, in a lot of ways, this was the magic password. This was the invitation. I had innocently unlocked code that provided me access into Henry’s private world, even though I still had no idea what it meant.

Before long, I was engaged in a rich conversation about football. About athletes. About those who respect the game and the country, and those who do not. And little did I know, I had met a Georgia native, a 50+ year season ticket holder, and an iconic business man who amassed great wealth and fame, in part due to his long affiliation with UGA.

Over the next hour, my life is a blur. Henry shared wisdom. He shared faith. He shared disappointment and adversity. He shared endurance through numerous chemotherapy treatments. He shared a zest for life, and a love for college football that no one who has never encountered a fan from the SEC conference can possibly know. He shared a pride in his personal friendship with Hershel Walker, and the fact that he still, to this day, has a personalized license plate of “#34.”

We talked about life. We talked about what was wrong with the country. We talked about responsibility.

And then, I asked a fateful question. “Henry, do you have grandchildren?”

He paused. His demeanor changed.

He said, “Chad, I have five wonderful granddaughters. Three of them live here on the property, and the other two in Atlanta. But none of them will ever play between the hedges.” (Football reference, I realized after thinking about it for a bit)

And, then my world was about to change……………forever.

Henry started driving the Ranger ATV we were riding around in toward a wooded area down by a creek. He said, “I want to show you something.”

He continued, “Chad, I had a grandson. His name was Henry. He was named after me.” I braced myself, knowing that this was not going to be a pleasant story, especially when he used the word “had.”

“Henry was born with many problems. Henry was blind. Henry was deaf. Henry never learned to walk. Henry died when he was four years old.”

He invited me out of the Ranger, and led me through the woods to a shrine that had been built in honor of young Henry. There was a beautiful cross marking the site, and a wooden plaque with Henry’s full name carved into it. 

He had passed away about four years ago, and it was still all Henry senior could do to finish his story.

As I looked at him, his eyes started to well up. 

“Chad, that little boy was the greatest blessing and gift I have ever had in this life. He taught me a huge lesson about what is truly important, and I am eternally grateful for that………He taught me a depth of love that I had never known before, a depth of love that money cannot buy.”

I let him continue, in his own time.

“Chad, think about it. Here is a young boy who is blind and deaf from birth. Never heard a sound, never saw a face. The only thing that boy ever experienced was love. Think about that. The only thing he ever knew in his whole life was love. Is that amazing or what?”

So, now I can’t get it out of my head. It resonates in a new way.

Born into life without sight and without hearing……senses limited to touch, smell, and taste……….

Well……….that is an amazing portrait, isn’t it? Young Henry’s life had clearly left a permanent mark on Henry senior. And now he had left a mark on me.

When we stop and think about it, love without condition is love in its purest form. At those intersections when we can give nothing in return, or when the person we are loving can give nothing back. 

That, my friends, is beautiful.