Love is patient, love is kind...

Usually, I like to keep my blogs funny and pleasant to read… but lately I've been thinking a lot about love and what exactly it is… and what it isn't...

When I first started thinking about this I was immediately reminded of 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. Now most of you know I'm not here to preach the gospel, but no matter how you slice it – this is what love is kiddies. No matter what your faith (or lack thereof) this is what it is.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves."-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

As I read this… I thought about all the people and "friends" I have shared my life with that don't fit this "definition"… all the people in my life and a part of my past who haven't been kind to me, who have lied to me, who are easily angered and rude, and ABSOLUTELY keep record of the wrong things I've done. No one is perfect, but when a relationship can be defined as being the opposite of almost everything described above… what makes it so desirable?

We are limited to a certain number of days in this life. Those days are made up of a certain number of hours. What is it that makes me waste that valuable time on people who show me that they can't possibly really and truly love and care for my well-being? What is it about me that is incapable of cutting someone out of my life?

What Goes Around Comes Around

There once was a poor Scottish farmer named Fleming. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."

"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.
"Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

"I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved his life this time?
Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's name?
Sir Winston Churchill.