Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Corinthians Love

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I have spent the day thinking about these verses, the perfect definition of love. I learned these verses long ago. After a long night of sticking my foot in my mouth time and time again, these verses have taken on a whole new meaning. It becomes clearer and clearer.

It's amazing to me how capable we are as humans to love. We feel all types of love for many people. We love our children, our parents and family, we love our friends. These types of love are the easiest to process. I never have to question whether or not I love my children, or my parents. I just do. This kind of love just is. The kind of love that is most baffling is the type between man and woman. Romantic love. It has a way of changing and twisting and turning. It has a way of grabbing hold of you and crushing you in it's grip. It gets sweeter with time. It is it's own animal. I've know this kind of love. Each time it's come back to bite me. It changed into something very different. I love my husband but this love has changed and twisted. It was once something and now has become something else. A respect for the father of my children and for who he is as a creation. My heart, however, no longer skips beats to the rhythm of his voice.

Another love is something that gripped me long ago. It grabbed hold of me. It was young and green and therefor restless and perhaps because of it's lack of maturity doomed to fail. This is the one that haunted me. It had been dormant; covered over by the cold of life's harsh winter. While 2dormant, it was still green and immature. It never had enough time to grow strong in the warm light of day. Instead it stood frozen in time until once again it stirred. Popped up into my dreams. Invaded my night time thoughts. I gave light to this love. Took it out of it's little glass box and held it in my hand. I turned it over. Thought of it. Watered it. Gave it light. At first this love stayed young and green. It had not yet bloomed. But time, change and personal growth made it strong. In it's strength it matured. Became sweet. At first bite it had been bitter in my belly. But as I stayed with it, looked at it closely under the magnifying glass and umbrella of God's help I see it for what it is. It is still strong and real as it ever was. But the light, the water and warmth made it content to stay hidden. Changed it even more. This once green bitter love, became a strong root. Friendship. Respect. Something that does not seek its own way or demand to be fed. It's become long suffering, easy to forgive, trusting and content to stay right where it is. In the safety of a friendship. The memory is losing it's bite. The loss becoming numb to it's sting. What once drove me to the brink of madness to understand, is now understood. Knowing it once was, and was real, and happened is enough. Knowing it is still there, real, and alive though changed, is enough. I am now capable of taking it out of it's glass case, and giving it back to the One from where if first came. It is His to tend now. His to keep. And I am free.