Today, I'm overwhelmed by the pain I see around me, that even well-intentioned people can inflict on each other. That was a lesson I learned years ago, the hard way: good intentions are not enough. And it's because we are broken people, trying to love other broken people. And yet, we love, and we are loved.
But love is patient, kind, and messy.
It doesn't boast, nor is it proud. Sometimes, love is making a sacrifice that leaves you feeling like you're being used.
Love doesn't keep a record of wrongs, which may mean that we forgive a person a hundred times for the same action.
It seeks truth. Love doesn't always give you wings; sometimes, it weighs you down.
Love protects; love is wanting the best for someone, but not always knowing what the best is.
And it perseveres, even when love is not a two-way street.
And though we try our hardest to love as God loves us, we grow weary, because we are not Him. But we try, even as broken people, because He commands us to. And it's because we are broken ourselves that we know what it is like to be needing love.
And so we love.
And so we love.
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