Reduce Me To Love
Beyond all these things put on and wrap yourselves in [unselfish] love, which is the perfect bond of unity [for everything is bound together in agreement when each one seeks the best for others].-Colossians 3:14 (AMP)
Do you remember, as a student in elementary school, the classroom parties each year at Valentine’s Day? I do. I remember pink and white crepe paper streamers, candy hearts with messages like “Be Mine” or “You’re Cute” in the center, sugar cookies with pink icing, sprinkles, and red hot cinnamon candies placed carefully on each side. I remember exchanging little cards with the kids in my class, characters like Scooby Doo, Darth Vader, and various superheroes bearing greetings of love and friendship, all asking the bearers to “Be Our Valentine.” These parties were so much fun and we as a class looked forward to them.
One Valentine’s Day, as a third grader, I was sick with the measles. I remember laying stretched out on my mom’s sofa, a cold cloth on my forehead, some weird kind of lotion that gave the appearance of my skin sparkling, and fighting the overwhelming urge to scratch. I was feverish, in and out of sleep, and just plain miserable. But the most disappointing of all was having to miss the class Valentine’s Party. I was not happy to say the least.
That afternoon my sister walked in the front door carrying a box that had been decorated in cherry red construction paper with pink and white streamers on each side. A hole had been cut in the middle of the box and when she shook it, there was a strange sound of rustling paper. She then turned the box upside down and shook it. Almost thirty cards trickled out, all with my name on them. Not only had my class gathered up Valentines for me, they chose the class party box to send them home to me. I may have missed the party but a party made its way to my house.
My nine-year-old mind didn’t think much about this then but that simple act of sending that box filled with cards to me was an unselfish act of love. Children love the same way they live; unconditionally and with abandon. Their hearts and minds are open. No questions, no doubts, no fear. Somewhere along the way, between youth and adulthood, love no longer is something we live and do. Instead we question it. We fear it. More times than not we hide from it. Love is no longer a selfless act; it is quid pro quo, something out of a car commercial: “I love what you do for me!” Rather sad, isn’t it?
1 John 3: 18 reads, ” Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” Before that, in verse 16, we read,” This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” Love isn’t chocolates, flowers, adorable plush teddy bears, or even the most beautiful floral arrangements. Love isn’t warm, fuzzy feelings; feelings are fickle and they have a way of telling us one thing when just the opposite may be true. Love isn’t automatic; most of the time it requires effort. Love isn’t the instantaneous struck-by-lightning glance across a crowded room which is so often portrayed in movies and on TV. Love is a deliberate choice, sometimes messy, not always convenient, sometimes ugly, and more times than not requiring some element of discomfort. Love is not a once a year day on the calendar. It should be an every day way of living. Jesus knew love. He preached love. He was love. His love reached into the corners of the world where so many refused to go, to where lepers dwelt, tax collectors met, and adulterous actions ended with stones falling from the hands of the casters. His love poured from His body through the stinging blows of the whip on His back and the splinters of the cross stained crimson with His blood.
How then are we reduced to love today?
Do you remember, as a student in elementary school, the classroom parties each year at Valentine’s Day? I do. I remember pink and white crepe paper streamers, candy hearts with messages like “Be Mine” or “You’re Cute” in the center, sugar cookies with pink icing, sprinkles, and red hot cinnamon candies placed carefully on each side. I remember exchanging little cards with the kids in my class, characters like Scooby Doo, Darth Vader, and various superheroes bearing greetings of love and friendship, all asking the bearers to “Be Our Valentine.” These parties were so much fun and we as a class looked forward to them.
One Valentine’s Day, as a third grader, I was sick with the measles. I remember laying stretched out on my mom’s sofa, a cold cloth on my forehead, some weird kind of lotion that gave the appearance of my skin sparkling, and fighting the overwhelming urge to scratch. I was feverish, in and out of sleep, and just plain miserable. But the most disappointing of all was having to miss the class Valentine’s Party. I was not happy to say the least.
That afternoon my sister walked in the front door carrying a box that had been decorated in cherry red construction paper with pink and white streamers on each side. A hole had been cut in the middle of the box and when she shook it, there was a strange sound of rustling paper. She then turned the box upside down and shook it. Almost thirty cards trickled out, all with my name on them. Not only had my class gathered up Valentines for me, they chose the class party box to send them home to me. I may have missed the party but a party made its way to my house.
My nine-year-old mind didn’t think much about this then but that simple act of sending that box filled with cards to me was an unselfish act of love. Children love the same way they live; unconditionally and with abandon. Their hearts and minds are open. No questions, no doubts, no fear. Somewhere along the way, between youth and adulthood, love no longer is something we live and do. Instead we question it. We fear it. More times than not we hide from it. Love is no longer a selfless act; it is quid pro quo, something out of a car commercial: “I love what you do for me!” Rather sad, isn’t it?
1 John 3: 18 reads, ” Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” Before that, in verse 16, we read,” This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” Love isn’t chocolates, flowers, adorable plush teddy bears, or even the most beautiful floral arrangements. Love isn’t warm, fuzzy feelings; feelings are fickle and they have a way of telling us one thing when just the opposite may be true. Love isn’t automatic; most of the time it requires effort. Love isn’t the instantaneous struck-by-lightning glance across a crowded room which is so often portrayed in movies and on TV. Love is a deliberate choice, sometimes messy, not always convenient, sometimes ugly, and more times than not requiring some element of discomfort. Love is not a once a year day on the calendar. It should be an every day way of living. Jesus knew love. He preached love. He was love. His love reached into the corners of the world where so many refused to go, to where lepers dwelt, tax collectors met, and adulterous actions ended with stones falling from the hands of the casters. His love poured from His body through the stinging blows of the whip on His back and the splinters of the cross stained crimson with His blood.
How then are we reduced to love today?
Devotional Time
In the stillness of this time take a moment to quiet yourself before Him. Look up as many verses as you can find on the subject of God's love. As you read write down your thoughts, questions, and any revelations God may bring to mind. Above all may you see as you never have before His love for you!
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