As I embark on this journey of finding “proof to reach the truth,” through scripture and my own lived experience, I need a starting point. I pick up a book, God’s Little Instruction Book for Women. It is an odd title, I think, why not for everyone? Why do the instructions have to be different for women? It provokes me enough to open the book. One of the first verses is:
“You May Give Without Loving, But You Cannot Love Without Giving”
I realised I have known people who give with deep love, and others who love but do not give, and those who give without loving. I had to dig deeper. So I decided to turn to what the scriptures say:
In Buddhist teaching, giving is not love if it is driven by attachment, the need to ease discomfort, control outcomes, or secure a sense of usefulness.
In Jewish ethics, the highest form of giving is measured by the dignity you offer, whether the other person remains whole, capable, and respected.
In the Bible, love is understood as self-giving. It requires letting go of self-interest and control and reaching out. It prioritizes the other person’s dignity over your need to feel useful.
We give because it is expected, because it feels right, or because it helps us feel useful. Love, on the other hand, requires us to step outside the walls guarding our vulnerabilities and surrender.
It is possible to give and to remain untouched at the same time. Love, however, does not permit such a gap. The moment you love a person, giving becomes an extension of self-love. For if you love someone, a part of you resides in them, and a part of them remains in you.
We have learned to give without getting too close, it is a way of keeping ourselves safe. We offer help, support, and solutions in a manner that keeps us efficient. Much of this is understandable. The world is hectic, people have their hands full, and many carry hurt they have not even named.
But something shifts when giving is offered without presence. Help is given without closeness. Slowly, without noticing, love becomes something we admire from afar rather than something that we actually step into.
Love demands something more. It demands that we stay open, even when it is disturbing. Staying open means allowing yourself to suffer the consequences by being vulnerable. It means listening without preparing your response. It means noticing when another person’s pain unsettles you and choosing not to look away. This can be as simple as staying quiet when someone shares something difficult, or sitting with a friend who is grieving without trying to fix it.
Staying open can also mean letting joy reach you without trying to control it, allowing yourself to enjoy a moment without rushing ahead, receiving kindness without deflecting it, or being happy for someone else without measuring it against your own happiness. When we stay open in small, ordinary ways, we are changed by what we see and who we meet. Change, whether good or bad, is required for us to grow.
On a more personal note, I am a giver. I often throw myself into solving other people’s problems, even when they don’t ask for it. I take on their worries and I try to carry them for them. On the surface, this may look like helping. Sometimes it is, but sometimes this can also be harmful. When I rush to fix or solve, I replace listening with action. I shorten the moment where someone is still feeling, still speaking, still realising what they need and what they are capable of.
For me fixing feels useful because it alleviates discomfort, not only theirs, but also my own. Over time, this has had it’s costs. Helping can ease a situation, but love asks for something harder, it asks for the willingness to stay present without being in control. To trust another person’s strength before deciding what needs to be done.
Giving takes many forms. We give help, advice, time, effort, gratitude, and sometimes grace. Some of these acts are visible others are quieter. Helping focuses on what we can do. Gratitude focuses on what we have received. Grace lets another person be a work in progress while they are with us. Each of these can be offered from a distance, or they can be offered with presence.
All experiences and scriptures point to the same message:
The most important form of giving is presence that does not control.
Love is never just a feeling. It is shown by what we are ready to give up so that something genuine can develop between people. Where nothing is surrendered, love has not yet begun.
I write here as I continue this exploration.