The church I normally attend is teaching on love and what "Love Does." Today's church was teaching on love and "What Love Is." So, it doesn't really matter what town you are in, or what church you attend, if the Lord wants you to hear something it will just follow you into the building....
Love.
So, I checked everything out. The music was loud-really loud. First row, next to the speaker, rock concert loud. I thought to myself that I must be middle aged. Not young enough to appreciate this radically loud music, yet not quite old enough to suffer from hearing loss to be oblivious to the ringing in my ears.
The pastor talked about Agape Love. The kind of love the Lord shows to us. Unconditional love. He gave the example of a drug addict shooting heroine into his veins but the Lord loving him in that very moment and the woman living in sin, and the Lord loving her through it.
He compared it to the way we might put conditions on love. I asked myself how I might do this. I thought about the man I saw the other day with tattoos on his face. My first reaction was:
"What an idiot..who would do something like that to themselves"
Because I'm godly like that...and love big like that.....
So, at lunch after church today, I was seated across from a man with tattoos down the sides of his face and all over his body, from what I could see. I silently told the Lord that I love his sense of humor. And, I do.
I don't know this man, but, he was awfully sweet to his wife and his two children. He demonstrates love to me from across the room.
" For those who are ready to hear the truth: Agape your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you. Love those that mistreat you. Take a slap on the cheek, and turn the other. If someone takes something that belongs to you, look for something else to give to them along with it. Tie a pretty bow on it. Ask yourself what you want people to do for you; then do it for them instead! Love generously" ~ Luke 6:30 (very loosely translated:)
Durning the service, I sat next to a man who was probably in his eighties. I think he may have suffered from a stroke sometime in his life. One side of his face was a little droopy and one arm didn't lift as high as he praised his Lord.
He would repeatedly say:
"Yes, Lord" Yes, Lord" Yes Lord"
At one point I looked over and he was on his hand and knees between the pews. That was a man who was not ashamed to worship.
When the service was over, he gave me a hug and told me to have a blessed day. Then as I turned, he grabbed my arm and said "Have a blessed life. Every single day of your life."
Yes, Lord.
