"If I speak with polish of Glenn Close, or write like Annie Dillard, or do either of these with the perspective of one who serves God and has stood in praise before the Divine Presence -- and have no love to give -- well, all those words might as well be thrown in the garbage because they sound like the hideous noise of a dial-up modem connecting to the internet.
"And though I took the SHAPE class at church and found out I have the gift of prophecy, and can read the Bible without wading through the Slough of Misunderstanding, and even possess a working grasp of the mystery that is God; and though I have faith that could stop the violence in the Sudan, keep unborn babies safe in their mother's wormb, or fill all the empty bellies across the planet and give all people dignity, and have no love to give -- I might as well have not been born.
"And though I sell my big house, my Volvo V70 Turbo wagon, and buy my clothes at the consignment shop (and forget Happy Meals -- it's Dollar Value menu only); And though I sacrifice my own life by giving mouth-to-mouth to a stranger or donating blood, or traveling to a dangerous country only to have my car set on fire by a mob -- if I don't have love to give -- my spiritual account still says $0.0.
"Love answers the "why" question of the toddler a thousand times; love listens on the phone for an hour to a hurting friend; love drives someone who has no wheels to the doctor's office or gets off its butt to fix everyone a cup of tea not just herself even though it's much easier to just pop a mug into the microwave.
"It doesn't think, "Who does the girlfriend think she is?" when someone at church gets a great haircut or loses a few pounds; it doesn't go on and on about how gifted its children are compared to the average child (it doesn't label anyone else's children either), and it doesn't get disgusted at the people that are always talking about how gifted their children are either; it doesn't look down on anybody -- even in its heart.
"Love doesn't park itself in the ten-items or less express check out lane with 15 items, and it doesn't count the items of those who do, then mutter, "Well, I thought this was the express lane!"
"Love doesn't flare up when somebody cuts it off on I-95; Love doesn't turn to its spouse or significant other and say, "This is the fourth time this month you forgot to take the garbage out to the street." Love didn't do the happy dance when Lorena Bobbit cut of her poor husband's sexual organ but love rejoices when a married couple finds the pleasure of God in the pleasure of their union.
"It will go downstairs itself if there's a strange noise in the house or sip the hot drink before handing it to its five-year-old; it never wonders unduly that its mate is staying at work late to fool around with a co-worker; it always believes in people--that they may not be where they could be, but by God, they're not going to be where they are a year from now! It doesn't throw down the towel at every little thing or big problem and brandish the "divorce" word and love never says, "But I'm not *in* love with you anymore." It also doesn't leave a church at the drop of hat or a ball or a song it didn't like. Love likes all the songs if it brings someone closer to God.
"If love promises to pick up the kids at four, it comes at four, and if it says it'll bring a dessert to basket bingo at the VFW hall, it does, and if someone is puking in the toilet at 3 a.m., love will be there to hold up the long hair of its daugher or wipe the sweating brow and rub the tender, spine-bumped back of its son. Love buys the Depends before they're gone.
"Prophetic people can prophesy all they want, tongue-speakers can talk like angels until the skies fall, and scholars can spout systematic theology and copious passages of scripture -- but these gifts won't mean anything someday in the face of love.
"All these things we do without perfection because we are human beings who live in an earthy husk of peeling frailty. Ah, but when perfection comes all this will go away.
"I remember my days as a little girl, I spoke brashly thinking I knew it all, thinking my parents didn't have a clue and my understanding, given the fact that I hadn't really lived yet, hadn't had kids of my own, been responsible for the mortgage, the utilities, the food on the table, was like judging the Blue Ridge Mountains in a ropy fog. But when I got older, I didn't have the luxury of knowing it all, for the rent came due and there were diapers to be bought and parents to bury and I hadn't the time to be the wisewoman, dispensing my opinions at my leisure.
"And still we see as though in that fog, stumbling along in pure faith that God is who He says He is, but someday, oh someday the mists will lift and we will see His face. And on that day, He will see ours, for the first time, in our new perfection, not the future promise of such, this blood-stained perfection bought on the cross stabbed into the hill of Calvary. Completion! Redemption full blown!
"Faith, and hope and love abide here now as we paupers live our lives covered in a costly grace. But love? It outshines it all."
