Where love runs out…

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

Where is my talent?

If we can do something well and with a flair, people call us talented. Yet I knew someone who could sing and a voice teacher suggested that he study professionally. But this person never did and only talked about his talent.

Some of us, however, might think, ‘I wish I had a talent. I’m not good at anything and I would love to boast about at least one thing in my life.’ But each one of us does have a talent – our natural aptitude to love.

Jesus said, “Love each other as I have loved you.” (John 15:12) He said it because all of us have the ability and flair to love well. And he doesn’t want us to just talk about it. He wants us to develop this most extraordinary talent with daring and unyielding courage.

Photo by Bart LaRue on Unsplash

The forgotten Valentine

Someone sent me a Valentine’s card. It said, “Your secret admirer.” But it was a prank and my teenage heart hurt. Then as those Valentine days ticked by and I received no more cards, I thought, “I must be totally unlovable.”

Years later, I met an elderly widow and she said, “Everyone one of us has a secret Valentine, someone who loves us so much.”

I knew who she meant, but to me Jesus didn’t count. Yet, this widow’s eyes sparkled. “He sends us Valentines all the time.” She showed me a heart cake she had made, with a Bible verse on top. 

I don’t remember the verse, but she was right. Jesus said, “I have loved you.” (John 13:34) And he always has. He always will.