Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Love Keeps No Record of Wrongs

Wow. Read that title again.  I mean, really, read it.  Then let it sink it (and repeat if necessary).

That phrase comes from the classic description of true love found in 1 Corinthians 13.  I have had this passage memorize for years.  In two different languages. 

And yet...

Lying in bed tonight I found myself doing it.  As I have so often done it.  Going through my list.  That mental list of times I've been wronged.  Of things that I am owed.  Of what I should have said.  Of what I would say now.  The dishes--left undone--again.  Broken headphones.  Empty gas tank.  Rude jokes.  Experiences denied.  Hurtful words.  Times left out.     

And I was interrupted by a whisper.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

The wind went rushing out of my gut as that gentle whisper wrapped itself around my head like a fog.  A simple phrase.  A well-known verse.  Pounded into my brain for years, but I never once had the thought that I thought tonight:

If that is love, who do I love?  Do I really love anyone at all?

I don't want to be that person.  I refuse to be that person.  I refuse to live in bitterness or regret.  I refuse to relish the mental replay of what I could have said to cut a person to size. I refuse to wallow in self-pity or martyrdom.  I choose love.  Forget the dishes.  Lose the record.

Take a moment.  Who do you love?  And then answer this: how well do you love them?  Are you willing to truly love and lose any record of wrongs?