I’m still practicing love. Some people say it’s easy to love. I say it’s easy to try to love. For me, love doesn’t mean simple affection. Love means always looking out for someone’s best interests. Love means putting yourself on the line to see that this happens. Love means taking care of others at the cost of your own comfort. It would be easy and cozy for me to lie in bed Tuesdays when I’m supposed to be volunteering at a food pantry. It feels good to yell when I’m angry and figure out who deserves that anger from me. It feels good to spend and buy expensive things for me and just me.
But love, as I see it, is getting out of bed to help others. Love is NOT sharing anger regardless of your made up system of ‘deserves’. Love is buying the nice toys for Christmas for kids you’ve never met. Ok that last one is not too hard. Actually I have a really great imagination and love going in my mind and ‘seeing’ the look on their faces when they open presents. But you still have to get out of bed for it on a day you wanted to order in for sushi.
Love is hard. And I’m still practicing. Especially regarding anger.
I visit churches—I write about it.