If I spend all my time cleaning and have a house that looks like it’s been decorated by Martha Stewart, but have not love,  I am only a clean freak robot imitating a persona.  If I have the gift of organization and can put all the books and toys away in every room,  keep the counter free of dirty dishes and keep the laundry down to a molehill, but have not love, I am nothing.  If I give all my energy to tidying my house and yard and surrender myself to exhaustion, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient.  It can listen to D all day as he jabbers about his latest invention and all the tweaks he’s putting on it and how awesome it is and how it’s better than anything his brother could build and….


Love is kind.  It doesn’t say, “Shut up already.”

It does not envy.  It doesn’t walk by the neighbour’s immaculate lawn being tended meticulously by the man of the house and wonder why the woman of this house is out pushing the lawn mower.

It does not boast.  It is not proud.  It’s happy with a loving husband, a beautiful home and great sons but it doesn’t flaunt it to make others feel bad.

It is not rude.  Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.  If the heart is full of love it can only say loving words.

It is not self-seeking.  Love always puts the needs, interests and desires of others ahead of its own.  It finds jobs for eager boys to do so they can earn money for the candy store trip with their friends.  It listens to stories of a son’s first golf game without expecting to be asked about it’s day.  It labours so that other’s lives can be better.

It is not easily angered even when P is sucking on his giant candy store sucker to intentionally annoy all who are annoyed by such annoying noises.


It keeps no records of wrong.  Pieces of D’s invention are all over the place?  P was sucking annoyingly on his sucker today?

It ALWAYS protects, ALWAYS trusts, ALWAYS hopes, ALWAYS perseveres.

Lord, teach me to love.