Seven years ago, while travelling internationally, I sat in a cafe waiting for someone to turn up. Earlier, this woman had telephoned me, weeping, saying she needed to talk with me right now. So I cut short a meeting, caught a train to the cafe where we had arranged to meet.
I sat there for three hours, and when this person finally arrived, there were no tears. She laughed instead and told me it had been a ‘test’ to see how much I loved her.
You can imagine my anger and hurt, and maybe even that every bit of love I felt for this person disappeared. For human love is like that – if it is abused or used, it runs out.
I prayed for God to give me his love, because I didn’t know what it looked like in this situation. And since I heard no voice from heaven, I bought this person a cup of coffee and a cake. We chatted a bit. But then I stood up and walked out, leaving her to sit alone.
Whether I did right or wrong, I don’t know. But I learned that there are two kinds of love, mine and God’s. I learned that mine isn’t enough and only God could help me now.
Photo by Maria Orlova: https://www.pexels.com
