Love on a Monday Morning after a Flood

On a Monday morning after floods and bombs and exhaustion from laundry and life, I could use a reminder of what love looks like.  Maybe it looks different for you today. Whatever your day holds, remember.  Love always hangs tough.

I Corinthians 13:1-8


If I can order my words to soothe like music to a broken heart, but don’t listen to my children talk about their day, my music will be as calming as the junior high band on the first day of school.

If I can put words to the dark and winding caverns of the soul and if my faith can generate response that will transform a flood soaked house into a warm home, but I don’t look my family in the eyes, it’s like cooking dinner in a war zone pressure cooker.

If I donate clothing and sort it until I drop, but don’t take the time to listen to the hurting , I might as well stay in bed.

Love takes time, and works to fill the empty at the cost of it’s own depletion.   Love doesn’t look through emerald eyes, and say guess what I did.  Love doesn’t respond with quick witted sarcasm even if it is funny and applicable.  It ‘s not in competition for the loveliest landscaping and doesn’t loose it’s temper when laundry is left on the bathroom floor for the 641st day in a row.

Love doesn’t harp on two decades of the same issue.  Love doesn’t say serves you right.  Love recognizes and celebrates the smallest successes, knowing that small growth, leads to big steps resulting in true change.  Love looks for ways to shelter hurting hearts, love takes a deep breath and doesn’t sniff for duplicity.

Love holds out hope when life says you’re gonna end up the fool.  Love hangs tough through whining and complaining and emotional distance, through heartbreak and here we go again, when it looks like what has always been will always be.

Love doesn’t check out, ever!

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