My list of enemies

I've been making a list of my enemies. I'm tracking those who hurt me. I'm tallying those who left wounds. I'm noting those who bother me. I'm "making a list, checking it twice . . . ."
No really, I am.
I wonder if we have a wrong strategy for dealing with enemies. I'm not talking about national enemies, like countries, or enemies of state, like tyrants. I'm talking about personal enemies. Like the person who wounded you with their cutting words last week. Like the boss at work who tells lies behind your back. Like the girl at school who spreads painful rumors about you. Or even the guy who cut you off on the freeway last night. Who are your enemies?
"But those aren't enemies," you say, "They're just people who annoy me, or hurt me a little. I'd never be so unchristian as to call them enemies." And therein lies the rub. Because if they're annoyances, we can just ignore them. If they hurt us 'a little', we can just be angry 'a little.' If they do something a little hurtful, we can just gossip about them. But if they're enemies, we have to love them. And that is something altogether different.
Jesus gives two heart-tests for His followers that are especially potent to me. One is our willingness to give time to 'unimportant, unpowerful' people. (See Luke 18:15-17, or Matthew 25:34-40) We know we are beginning to share God's heart when we willingly give our time and energy to those who will not benefit us in any way. The second test that grabs me is the 'love your enemies' test. I've been memorizing that passage, and—honestly—I don't like it. But here it is:
"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." (Luke 6:27-28)
Later, He says:
"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because He is kind to the ungrateful and wicked." (Luke 6:32-35)
Did you catch that? One way to know that we are children of the Most High is if we love and share and give and do good to our enemies. Because that's what Jesus did—and does—for His enemies. For us. "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."
So why am I keeping track of my enemies? Because I want to be done with merely tolerating those who hurt me. Because I want to be done with petty wars with those I dislike. Because I want to be done with bitterness in my heart. Because, according to Jesus, I either hate stuff or I love it. And I either hate people or I love them. I've got to admit who my enemies are so that I can love my enemies. I've got to admit who my enemies are so that I can actively strategize about how to do good to them. I'm learning—with baby steps—to go out of my way to serve those who have hurt me. I'm learning—again, baby steps—to bless those who curse me. I have a long way to go, but I'm 'making a list, checking it twice . . .' No, I'm not fixated on it—that would be unhealthy. But I'm trying to get honest with myself, so, as Abraham Lincoln said, I can "destroy my enemies when I make them my friends."
This isn't natural for my heart. I don't want to love my enemies. But my heart is no longer natural. Yours isn't either, if Christ has changed it. It takes a supernatural heart to love enemies. It takes the heart of God to love enemies. I want my heart to become like God's heart. Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, will you help me to identify and love my enemies—like you do?
(By the way, if you receive a kind word from me, or a card in the mail, or a gift, it doesn't necessarily mean you're my enemy . . . I try to do that for friends, too . . .) :-)

One-Trick-Pony

His tone was charged with accusation, but his lips curled with a flickering smirk. He had stood in a long line of parents, waiting to question me—the 22-year-old who was interviewing to pastor his kids. I had already fielded an hour-and-a-half of group questions, and now had worked my way through the parental line. Six weeks after marrying my high school sweetheart, and just 4 months after college graduation, I was trying to land my first full-time career job. "You just said the same thing all night" he continued. "You're just a one-trick-pony. Every question they asked you gave the same answer. It was just all about love, love, love. Do you really think that love is all there is to life? Don't you have any other ideas?"

It's a fair question. Maybe it was just the naiveté of a 22-year-old fresh out of college. Maybe as I got older, and wiser, I'd realize that love isn't trustworthy. I'd realize that Hollywood has corrupted love. I'd figure out that real Christianity is about good doctrine, or discipline, or obedience, or . . . something more measurable than 'love'. I'd discover that love isn't trustworthy because sometimes you just have to obey God even when you don't want to, and that it's ok to not like someone but still say that you love them. Maybe when I got out of the idealism of college and into the reality of 'grown-up life' I'd realize that love is just a superficial thing that mature Christians have moved beyond.

The entire law is summed up in a single command: "Love your neighbor as yourself." (Galatians 5:14)

Jesus replied: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." (Matthew 22:37-40)

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 13:34-35)

. . . for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law. (Romans 13:8)

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19)

God is love. (1 John 4:8,16)

We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19)

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)

The rant continued, and I thought, He might be joking, but if he isn't—and I treat him like he is—I'm in trouble. Better take him seriously. I was starting to get nervous. But, he was right. I am a one-trick-pony. I really do think that everything—everything—ties back to love. That even judgment and wrath and truth and justice are all expressions of the love of God—of the God who is love. I really do think that God lives in perfect relationship as Father, Son, and Spirit. And I believe that perfect relationship is why He is love. Not just loving. Not just a lover. He is love. And, I really do think that everything comes back to love. I mean, isn't that what Jesus says? "All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." So yes. I am a one-trick-pony. I do tie everything back to love. And so does Jesus. That puts me in good company . . .

I started to explain myself yet again when the flickering smirk won out over the accusatory tone. Turns out he was joking—and that he agreed. Love is the answer—always. He even titled a book after it—One Trick Pony (by Phillip E. Long). You should pick it up—it's a good read.

But the real question is—what's your 'one-trick-pony?' What driving force in your life motivates what you do? Has the love of God won your heart? He is love.

@#$%&! patience

My one-year-old son, Caleb, is not a very patient person. If I'm making him food to eat, he'll often cry, because he isn't already eating the food. If we're riding in our truck and just 5 minutes from home, he'll whine, because he wants out of his car seat now. If he's ready to go somewhere and I'm not quite ready, he'll fuss, because my timing doesn't match his timing. He has no sense of perspective. It's almost like he can't see a big enough picture to wait for just a minute. It's almost like his sense of time and perspective is so limited that he doesn't recognize the absurdity of his impatience. It's almost like waiting any amount of time is waiting too long. And yes, I'll say it before you can: he comes by it naturally.

Who's got time for patience anyway? I don't. I mean, let's be honest—patience isn't exactly a 'hot topic' around most people's dinner tables. Some of us confuse patient people with boring people (they're just 'patient' because they have nothing to live for), or we just think patient people lack motivation (sure, you're patient—that's why you never get anything done—and why I have to do it all). Patience isn't exactly breaking news (pardon the pun). We celebrate lightning fast computers, bigger faster cell networks, faster internet providers, faster news feeds . . . the list goes on and on. When was the last time you saw an ad that was marketing patience? Do you value patience?

I don't. Or at least I didn't. You know how you interview for jobs, and people ask, "What's your greatest strength, and what are your greatest weaknesses?" and then, you try to find a weakness that is really a strength? ("I admit, I really struggle with perfectionism. I just can't stop until a job is done right . . .") When I was interviewing for youth pastor positions 6 years ago, I got a Christian version of that: "Which of the fruits of the Spirit are you strongest in, and which do you struggle most with?" Of course, you remember the options: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Immediately, my mind raced, asking, What are the 'safe' answers to that question? I replied, with honesty, that I struggle with patience. I'm often too eager to see progress happen now. In both cases, they offered me the job. Can you imagine how the interview would have gone if I had picked some of the other 'fruits' of the Spirit? I really struggle with gentleness. When I get angry, I just like to hit people. Or, Self-control just isn't my thing. If something tempts me, I just do it. Or, I'm really just not a very kind person. I sort of think kindness is overrated. I'd probably still be job searching! But patience—that's kind of a safe answer. It's ok to be impatient. People think, "He's just driven." And so, patience gets swept to the side as another personality-driven virtue that only certain temperaments can be expected to have.

That's how I thought of it—at least deep down. Of course, no one is dumb enough to actually say that patience is worthless—we just live that way. We just don't pay any attention to nurturing patience or wishing for patience. It's a forgotten virtue. But that blew up in my face a month or so back. I was outlining 2 Timothy, and noticed that Paul describes himself as patient. Paul? Patient? Mr. Driven-Personality? Mr. Urgency? Mr. Accomplishment? Patient? If Paul is patient, then patience surely isn't slowness. It's not passivity. It isn't shirking responsibility in the name of 'trusting God.' It isn't absence of stress or an unwillingness to push hard. None of those things describe Paul.

So, what is patience? I asked some friends for help. If you'd like to join me on my journey, here's what I'm thinking so far:

• There is 'big-picture' patience and 'in-the-moment' patience. 'Big-picture' patience has to do with major life circumstances. For me, right now, it's my desire to be in Croatia. 'In-the-moment' patience has to do with immediate circumstances. For me, those are times when I'm running late, when others are late, or when someone's behavior is difficult to deal with (like a baby crying . . .).
• Patience is about trusting the God who truly loves you. Like everything (!), patience is an element of loving God and loving others (Mt. 22). My confidence in God's love for me frees me to wait for His movement. I can rest, knowing He loves me even more than I love myself. Many friends talked about having 'faith to be at peace with God's timing' or 'trust.' ('Big picture' patience)
• Patience is about caring for the person you're waiting for. My friend says, "I think of John 21... Jesus appearing to his disciples on the lake...waiting for them by a fire...guiding Peter...wanting his "kids" to get it. This was the third time he appeared to them." My love for others causes me to be patient, even when it disrupts my plan or timeline. Another friend said, "I think patience is, one of many, acts of selflessness. So it would be a result of "love God, love people" for the purpose of putting someone else's needs (time, your attention, kind words, encouragement...) above our own, because Jesus did it first." ('In-the-moment' patience)

I'm really not very patient. Liz and Caleb can attest to that. But here are some ways that patience is working into my life:

• We are so excited to get to Croatia, and are so emotionally 'done' with support-raising! Yet, we need to be at 100% support before we leave for summer ministry. We know it's God's will for us to go. But, we don't see the timing from His perspective. My confidence in God's love for me frees me to wait for His movement—even if it doesn't match my timing.
• I'm terrible at waiting for late people. (And, of course, sometimes habitually late people need to be challenged to grow for their own good.) But remembering that 'caring for others is more valuable than my happiness or timeframe' helps me focus on the person that needs love, not my schedule.

I'm starting to think that this is the key: Patience isn't just a belief or a state of being. It's a relational force, based on who/what you most love at the time. Patience is 'loving enough to wait' for God's timing. Patience is 'loving enough to wait' for people. Patience is loving enough to wait.

How about you? How is patience working into your life? What values and beliefs can you share with the rest of us as we seek to join God's heart in this area?

(Thanks to all of you who joined the 3/2/11 conversation on Facebook—super helpful!)

Ambushed

I was ambushed. My day felt ruined. A dark cloud hung over everything, and for all my efforts, I couldn't see daylight. Down seemed up and up seemed down. My heart hurt like a loser of the 'running of the bulls', yet nothing was really wrong. I was simply dropping Bailey (our 3 year old dog) off for 'minor' surgery—a spay and a teeth cleaning. What had happened?

It was pretty simple, really, and sort of complicated all at the same time. You see, 13 months earlier I had really been ambushed. The time had come to put Josh, my dog since 8^th grade, to sleep. I knew it would be hard. I knew it wouldn't be fun. But I had no idea how much it would turn me inside out—after all, "he's just a dog, right?" Choosing when to let go ambushed me in a way that I won't soon forget. It was super hard. I felt low for days afterwards. And it was over a year ago.

So why, upon entering the same vet clinic 13 months later, did I suddenly feel like it was just yesterday I had lost a faithful friend? Why did the smells, surroundings, bandages, and wrappings all evoke an emotion in me that I haven't felt for months? Why did this outward environment affect me so much? Why? Because our hearts remember things. Our hearts store things. Our hearts are lastingly shaped by the experiences we force upon them. This world imprints our hearts.

I think we often treat our hearts as if they are made of stone—as if we can do or experience anything, and our hearts will stay the same. Of course, a heart of stone isn't anyone's goal! We want to have hearts of "flesh" (Ezekiel 36:26). But the problem with a heart of flesh is that it is imprintable. Our hearts react to the world around us. Events stick to us like dried oatmeal on a hot day. Images etch themselves into our memory and then resurface at the most inopportune times. Experiences shape us in ways that feel so natural that we don't even notice. The people we're around—they shape us. The activities we choose—they form us. The music we enjoy—it steers us. Because it imprints our hearts.

"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." (Proverbs 4:23) Above all else, guard your heart. "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." (Philippians 4:8) Quite a filter!

Our hearts are fragile—and absolutely priceless! The point isn't rule-following or law-keeping. The point is freeing our hearts to love truly the One who loves us first! How do you choose to guard your heart? And, what things are shaping your heart that shouldn't be? How are you being imprinted?

My Life Without (gasp!) . . . Television

The story of how our family lost its TV was quite ominous and mysterious to my little mind. It had happened before I was born, and we'd never had a TV since. Evidently, the amount of time spent in front of the 'tube' was concerning to my mom, and she began to pray that it might be, uh, removed from our household. Soon thereafter, our TV began to smoke. Literally. In my little mind, I could picture black smoke rising up out of the TV. (Since then, I've always tried to stay on my mom's good side . . . !) They took it to the repair shop, but never got it back. To my young mind, the evidence was clear: God had acted, and TV was bad.

I still remember the day when we finally got a TV. We had gone the first 16 years of my life without one, and I was firmly embedded in the belief that I was better for it. I did all sorts of other things. As a young guy, afternoons found me with a few buddies, out in the back pasture, pretending to be Daniel Boone and Davy Crocket, complete with fake long guns. As I got older, real hunting replaced fake hunting. Sports were a big part of life. I also learned how to lose myself in a good book—a habit I still have to this day. Most of all, I used my imagination, and that provided plenty of entertainment. But one day, we got a TV and a VCR. I think I remember it so clearly because it seemed so . . . strange.

I adjusted quickly, however. Soon, I was finishing each day with Sports Center, or whatever else was on ESPN. We started renting movies and watching shows and everything that 'normal' families do. We were pretty tame in our choices, but I do remember that a family division started to arise. Maybe your family has it also. As kids, there were movies that we all watched, and movies that "Mom and Dad probably wouldn't like." Funny thing was, we weren't really watching anything too risqué. But with Mom and Dad being part of the older generation and everything, they were just a bit more sensitive in their consciences than we were. We didn't want to watch anything with them that might, you know, offend them or something. Sometimes the realities of life can be a little shocking to those who aren't young and relevant, and we wouldn't have wanted to spoil their naiveté . . .

You know those moments in life when you realize up is down and down is up? I sure was surprised when I found out that Mom and Dad avoided certain movies to protect us, not themselves! What a novel idea! Here I was, sure that they would have been shocked by all of the 'mature' issues these films were dealing with, and they were avoiding them to protect me! Hmm . . .

Soon I left for college, and encountered a strange phenomenon: Guys would stay up all night to shoot aliens and zombies on a TV screen, when there was a real world right outside the men's dorm. Some of these same guys (who I deeply love to this day) struggled intensely with internet pornography, but insisted on the need to watch most of the latest movies so that they could stay 'relevant.' Might there be a connection? Many of them finally lived out Jesus' words to 'cut it off' and decided to be more careful with what filled their minds. I wonder if sometimes our ability to distinguish between reality and fantasy starts to become handicapped . . .

I remember sitting around with a group of guys one night and quoting nearly every line from a popular movie . . . and afterwards wondering how our world would be different if Christians knew their Bibles that well . . .

I've been out of college for a few years now, and my love/hate relationship with media continues. Although I've never gotten in the habit of watching anything really rotten, I have watched some of the mainstream shows. I've started to question the imprint that media makes on my heart. And I've started to be much more careful about what I watch and listen to, because I wonder if our hearts aren't nearly as tough as we think they are. I wonder if we are far more susceptible to the imprinting of the world than we think. I suspect that we are far more influenced by the world of make believe than we admit. I think our hearts are sensitive—and we should guard them. I wonder—what things 'imprint' our hearts, and where do they come from?

Is lust really just a lost battle for every man—or do the seemingly safe movies we watch stir us more than we think? Is greed something that all Americans struggle with—or do the advertisements we sit through impact us more than we admit? Do all people struggle with comparing themselves to others—or is this a result of watching abnormal people live out unrealistic lives on television? Gossip? Swearing? Ungodly ambition? The list goes on . . .

I haven't gotten rid of my TV just yet, (nor have I canceled my subscription to Netflix), but I'm choosing to be much more careful about what I watch and listen to these days. Jesus often links the eyes and the heart (Mt 6:22). Paul tells us to guard what we think about (Phil. 4:8). And in Ephesians 5:3, Paul says, "But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people." The old standby question still works—would I feel comfortable watching that show with Jesus as my viewing partner? I don't think Jesus is 'out-of-touch' or 'extra-sensitive'—but He is HOLY . . . and I'm called to be also. Not so that I can impress anyone. Not so I can miss out on the rest of life. Not even to 'follow the rules.' No, it's to guard my heart. Because my heart isn't as tough as I used to think it is. Maybe the older generation isn't so naive after all! Does your TV need to start smoking?!!

Try Hate for a Change . . .

There it is again. It just won’t go away. Every time you turn around, it’s there. Lurking. Leering. Inviting. As soon as you get rid of it, it just reincarnates. The more you try not to think about it, the stronger it pulls you. It’s timing is always terrible, and it ambushes you when you least expect it. You know what I’m talking about . . .


War is hard enough when the enemy is another country. It’s hard enough when you’re fighting against another person. It’s more difficult still when it’s against an invisible enemy (Ephesians 6:12). But war against yourself? That’s something different altogether.

“For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members.” (Romans 7:22-23)

You know the war Paul’s talking about. When we come to Jesus, our ‘inner being’ is changed to ‘delight in God’s law’, but our body—our flesh—is still ‘programmed’ to sin. We’ve practiced sin for so long that it is simply part of our natural response. Maybe it’s deep seeded arrogance. Maybe it’s out-of-control insecurity. It could be gossip, lust, anger, bitterness, dishonesty . . . . We all know the list. And we all know our list. And according to Paul, it’s a war.

Notice that Paul didn’t say two things. He didn’t say that we’re all just ‘forgiven sinners’ who will never achieve any form of godliness this side of heaven. That’s just giving up on the war, and Paul isn’t recommending that. He also didn’t say that the war is already won—that we’re already perfect if we just have enough faith. Yes, ours sins are completely forgiven. Yes, “we have all we need for life and godliness.” But, he said that we’re at war . . . against ourselves.

In sports, we’re told that ‘the best offense is a good defense.’ I don’t know if it is really true, or if coaches just struggle to get kids excited about defense. But in the war against sin and Satan, it’s false. Sure, we’ve got to guard the home front, but when it comes to sin, a good defense doesn’t get us too far. We’ve all failed at the “don’t think about a pink elephant” trick, and yet we try to engage the same strategy with sin. Don’t think about how much you hate that person . . . Don’t think about that girl . . . Quit being so #@!& angry! . . . It’s a losing battle, isn’t it? The more I try not to sin, the more I think about it.

In Luke 6, Jesus says “But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” The command itself is worth noting, but did you catch the strategy? He says, “Give up on trying to ‘not hate’ your enemies. Turn it over. Love them.” I wonder if that same strategy applies to other areas of sin. Give up on trying to ‘not gossip’—spend your energy finding something uplifting to say. Give up on trying to ‘not be angry’—find a way to express genuine kindness. Give up on trying to ‘not be proud’—find a way to serve someone. Give up on trying to ‘not be greedy’—give your money away. Give up on trying not to sin—love! The war within us is a war of competing loves. Merely subduing our bad loves doesn’t work (love of self, love of power, love of wisdom, love of riches). We must replace those loves with proper love—play offense!

Jesus makes it very clear that love and hate work together (Matthew 6:24). In our pluralistic culture, we don’t like such talk as “You must love the one and hate the other.” But that’s how the war goes. We can’t ‘dislike’ sin and love God. It doesn’t work to ‘want to get rid of’ sin and love God. Our affections for God demand a hatred of sin. For the past couple of years, I’ve slowly gotten in the habit of asking God to help me hate my habitual sin. It’s an amazingly effective prayer! And, I’ve been intrigued by how God causes me to hate my sin. He always draws me to see the relational consequences of my sin—in other words, how my sin is hurting those I love. Am I struggling with pride? He’ll show me where my arrogance crippled vital friendships. Am I struggling with anger? He’ll show me episodes in recent weeks where my hard-hearted silence shredded close friends. Am I struggling with my words? He’ll show me how my simmering irritation is wounding those whom I count dear. Don't you hate it when you realize that you have caused a major reaction by some stupid thing you've said or done? You want to turn back the clock, vow you'll remember not to do that again—especially in marriage when you used to having the sweetness of oneness and you've wrecked it for a day or two. Aaahhh, so painful! It’s amazing how quickly I hate sin when I see the immediate relational consequences!

The war goes on. Relief won’t come until heaven. In the meantime, we must remember that sin is a relational problem, and a love problem, which demands relational and love solutions. Guard your heart (Prov 4:23). Wash it in the Bible (Eph 5:26). Let it be made holy by the Word (John 17:17). Hate sin. And love!

Did you succeed today?

What do you think about at the end of the day? When your head hits the pillow, do you ponder successes made? Do you contemplate opportunities lost? Did I think well today? Were my strategies good? Did I properly discern the problems of the day? Or, Did I accomplish my goals for the day? Did I make good progress on my to-do list? The more ‘spiritual’ among us might ask, Did I speak about Jesus today? Did I live with great faith? Or, Did I serve with passion? Did I sacrifice for others? Do you see how the questions we ask ourselves today direct our actions tomorrow? How do you evaluate yourself?


What measurements do you use to decide whether you have succeeded or failed? When you look back on a moment, week, season, or year, what determines your sense of victory or defeat? When you find yourself sighing in discouragement, or celebrating a job well done, what makes the difference? How do you evaluate yourself?

I wonder if this is what Paul is driving at in 1 Corinthians 13. You know how it goes:
“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.”

Before you gloss over this passage because of its familiarity, take a second look. Can you imagine what it would be like to “speak in the tongues of men and angels”? Wouldn’t it be fantastic to “fathom ALL mysteries and ALL knowledge”? We’d all like to have “faith that can move mountains”. And surely no one can criticize the person who gives all they have to the poor and then gives their life for the gospel!

Paul does. He criticizes it—if it’s done without love. In fact, he says that it is all going to go away (v.8). He says that our knowledge and wisdom can’t be trusted (v.9). He says only love will last (v.13). And it’s interesting to note that Paul believes that these great things can be done without love. In other words, great actions are not always good indicators of a loving heart. Scary.

To be clear, I’m a huge fan of right talking, good thinking, sacrificial serving, etc. I’m not ready to give up on any of those things. Don’t worry—I’m not jumping off the post-modern cliff of total relativism! It’s just that these things are all fallen. Just as my heart and body were damaged with sin in Genesis 3, so was my mind. So are my actions. But if “God is love” (1 John 4:8), and God’s Spirit lives in us (Rom. 5:5), then the truest expression of God in our lives is love. Love defined His way.

Love gets a bad rap in our Christian circles. Perhaps we’ve been too inundated by Hollywood versions of love. Perhaps we’re rightly suspicious of the consistent Disney message to ‘just follow your heart’. Perhaps love feels to ‘soft and cuddly’ to be trusted. So we’ve swung the pendulum and gotten rid of love altogether. (For an excellent blog post on this, see Peter Mead’s Valentine’s Day blog at http://www.cordeo.org.uk/fluffy-love). We’ve decided that we can’t trust the fluffy feelings of love, and we’ve emphasized the more measurable aspects of our faith, like right thinking and good actions. The problem is, in 1 Corinthians 13 Paul declares those to be of secondary importance. He declares love to be on top.

To be clear, we’re not free to define love in whatever terms we desire. The Bible doesn’t describe Hollywood love as the answer. Equally important, it doesn’t simplistically reduce love to a ‘decision’ of the mind and will. If you doubt that, read Hosea! Rather, love is truly an affection of the heart. We respond to God’s love with our love—a whole body, compelling, life-changing love. It means we really get to love God and love people, in a way that captures all of us—heart, soul, mind, and strength (to quote Jesus). All of Scripture displays what that love looks like.

So, when my head hits the pillow, I want to ask, Did I love today? I know my life will move in the direction of the questions I ask myself. Did I love today? Did I love my wife with my attitudes and internal conversations? Did I love my son and make time to spend with him? Did I love my co-workers, my classmates? Did I spend my money lovingly? Was my day orientated around the things that matter? Why did I do what I did? Did I love today?

How about you? How do you know if you loved today? How do you evaluate yourself?