sometimes it tastes like a hot cup of coffee while the boys watch backyardigans in ninja turtle pajamas.

for my husband, love tastes like lime chips and homemade salsa, and for kasher, it tastes like breast-milk. but he is being weaned and so love will soon taste different for him, more like stewed carrots or strawberries.

it’s more than a taste, though, or the sound of someone’s voice, or the touch of a hand on one’s elbow.

it’s something that happens when we don’t look at it or focus on it, kind of like the pot that boils when we’re busy doing something else. love happens when we’re looking at God.

for years i’ve tried to be love. and love is a lot of things that i am not. it’s patient and kind and keeps no record of wrongs and always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres, always always always.

there is only one person that is always. Jesus.

and so last night i learned this. while reading first john, trent trying to sleep with the pillow over his eyes. and i woke him to tell him, “it’s not about us trying to love. we can’t love. but love can become us. he became flesh, in Jesus, and that’s what he wants to do, every day, in each of us.”

because love is a person. it’s not an attribute. it’s a person.


so when we say, “i love you,” we are saying, “i embody Christ. and i will be him, for you, today, whatever that needs to look like.”

extraordinary posts we’d like to highlight from this week’s imperfect link-up:

the word enfleshed


monday visits

fumbling toward destruction

ease up

reverie on duty (taps)

*linking today with lisa-jo, whose word is “community”: it takes being this kind of person, this kind of love, to form true community…*