I Wonder If I Argue Too Much…

Sometimes I take a minute to sit back and reflect over what I do, whether it’s the direction my life is going in, or the way I handled a situation.

Recently, I’ve started thinking about my part in online discussions or arguments. In the past, I was the child who never spoke out. It was so bad, I would even have my younger sister go to the counter of a restaurant to get something they forgot to give me (even something as small as ketchup!).

When I first became (seriously) Christian, it was the same way. I was too scared that I didn’t know enough to speak out, or that I would be ridiculed because of information I didn’t have the answer to.

When I became vegan, it was the same thing. I didn’t feel I knew enough to speak out because I wasn’t the most “educated” or didn’t know “all the right answers”.

But as I continued to watch everyone else, I realized that you will never know everything. And besides, the best argument you have is your personal testimony, no matter whether it’s veganism, Christianity, or anything else. Nobody can argue what you’ve experienced. They can only argue facts and somehow even opinions (though I think everyone should be allowed an opinion).

The very first argument I ever felt brave enough to enter was between an atheist and a Christian. I couldn’t stand the picture of Christianity that the Christians were displaying that I felt compelled to go in and clear up the awful view. No, I was not trying to convert the atheist, I simply was explaining things she clearly had questions about and had been given a bad taste and picture of previously. By the end of the hour+ long conversation, she actually thanked me, and though she said she would not be considering becoming Christian at the time, she thanked me for being so understanding and being patient with my answers while explaining things in a different light than she had previously been shown.

To me, that should be the point of an argument or discussion. It shouldn’t be to fight or to prove one side better than the other. Of course I believe Christianity is the way, but I’m not going to force it down other peoples’ throats. God gave me my freedom of choice, so who am I to take it away from others? I can only present information and leave it up to them.

The next argument I ever went in on was not the same way. In fact, I got told to go take a nap along with being called many names. My whole point in that argument was that you can love people without supporting their actions. For example, you can love your child without supporting their drug use. You can support them for the good things, show them outwardly love, and even include them in normal things. But when an action they are doing goes against your beliefs or causes harm to either them or others, you don’t have to support that action. In no way does that mean you stop loving that person. But the group, or at least some people in that group, couldn’t accept that. I don’t know if I didn’t explain myself well enough, but I was in that conversation for several hours. It came to the point that I understood Christians were not going to be supported in that vegan group, and I respectfully excused myself from the group.

I don’t intervene in everything I see on the internet that I disagree with, but when it comes to things that harm others, when it comes to peoples’ health, or when it comes to slandering Christians, I try to go in and paint a different picture. Some people are accepting, some people will never be kind no matter what you say. I’ve been called a heap of names and been criticized against sometimes it seems like anything I say. Even when I’m remaining as polite as I can and stating again and again that nobody has to believe the same as I do, and that I will respect what they believe just as I would expect them to respect what I believe. It is possible to live in harmony without believing the same things (just look at the conversation with the atheist and I). But for some reason, I’m finding more and more people who cannot leave it that way.

I had a fellow Christian follow one of these conversations and eventually tell me that I should just end my conversation because the others (the main of which was apparently Hindu) was just going to keep coming up with every slandering thing and continue saying the worst possible portraits of Christianity they could. I just found it so sad. Sad that first of all, someone had views like that of what can be the most amazing faith. I know a lot of Christians call themselves Christian while living a very different life. Sad that also, someone who was a self-proclaimed “vegan” that is supposed to be filled with so much love could be so hateful towards Christians who honestly had done nothing wrong in this conversation but speak of the original diet in the Garden of Eden (vegan diet!). But as the other Christian woman suggested, I quit responding, despite the fact I continued to get blamed for things and called names in further comments.

I think about that conversation, and I continue to think of how I could have done it differently, what I might have done wrong. But the thing is, in every comment, I approached it in a very much “my experience was…” manner. I didn’t say that her beliefs were wrong, and I never discriminated against her, even telling her that I would continue to respect her and her choices. I don’t really want to continue the conversation, and I won’t, even though it’s hard to know that my name has been continued on in the conversation very negatively. I just don’t get it.

It makes me think… is there a point to me joining in these conversations? Is there a point when I’m just going to be downgraded and slandered by so many people? But then I also think of the vegan community who promotes standing up for those who are voiceless. I do think if you’re passionate about something, you shouldn’t just remain quiet about it, whether through actions or words. So do I just hold back my passion now that I finally feel brave to stand up for people? I mean, Christians in some of these groups literally get POUNDED into the ground by others, called every name in the book, their faith literally ridiculed up and down. I guess I feel like just by saying something (though again, not in a forceful way, often in a soft, from experience type of way) that they at least know someone is in their corner with them. I’m not afraid of being Christian. I’m not afraid of being vegan. I’m not ashamed of the things I believe. So if I get called names, it really doesn’t bother me. I don’t get as “heated” about these things as clearly others do. Temper control is not an issue for me in these conversations and part of me wonders if that’s what makes some people so mad. I don’t swear, I don’t believe in calling people names, I’m not that kind of person.

I don’t know… is it worth it or is it not? I guess I have just come to a place in my life where I’m content… maybe even more than content. For non-Christians, I know they won’t understand this, but for Christians who have experienced God saving their lives, they will know what I’m talking about. I can honestly say I’m filled with the joy of the LORD which makes everything surmountable. Months when we have less income, I don’t freak out anymore, because when I had no idea how we were going to survive before, God provided the money. I’ve totalled 2 cars, one that I in no way should have walked away from, but God protected me. I used to be so scared to face my mistakes and of punishments I may receive, but through God I know I have the strength to face whatever comes my way. I use to be so OCD about making sure everything was a certain way, but now I’m ok if things change. Even at work, when a wrench gets thrown in my plans, I don’t care. I’ve learned that nothing can be set in stone, but whatever may happen, God always provides. There is honestly little that upsets me. And why wouldn’t I want others to know that same feeling? Can you imagine a world where there was no stress, no worry, no panic? Can you imagine how much happier everyone would be? Can you imagine the amount of stress-induced illnesses that could be prevented? How can people not want a life like that?

Again, I’m not trying to force my lifestyle and faith down peoples’ throats. I always approach it in a way that I can share my experience and they can make their own choices past that. If that’s so wrong, then I don’t know how any conversation can take place. So I don’t know… what do you guys think? Is it worth the interjection in hopes that two fighting groups can maybe be a little more understanding and live in harmony? Or is it just a waste of energy? Maybe I try to play the “peacemaker” a little too much… I don’t know. Tell me what you think in the comments below.

Ben Carson Under Fire?

I have heard from many different places that Ben Carson is under fire for the way he treated the press in a recent press conference. I don’t think Ben Carson is completely flawless – no human is! But this got my interests peaked because as many of you may or may not know, he’s quite the guy with quite the story! I really encourage that if you don’t know his background, look it up! This guy is pretty amazing, and the best part is, he’s kept God in the forefront of his life.

Anyways, the first thing I did was to look at different articles to see the opinions voiced. This is when I learned about what the press was upset about.

Years ago, when Carson was looking at going to universities, he was offered to attend a reputable military school. Whatever the wording was, he was told it would be free. Carson took this to mean a full scholarship. He told the military officer that he would decline as that was not the route in life he intended to go. Thus, he applied and went to medical school and the rest is history.

The press says that Carson claimed he had the full scholarship to a place that apparently doesn’t even offer scholarships. Now, that’s fine. The military officer may not have used the word “scholarship” so yes, maybe Carson did not quite understand the meaning at the time. He worked very hard to pay for everything he had in life, so going to school for free because of good grades would quite obviously appear to be a free scholarship to him. I can see that. But call it a lie if you’d like. I guess it depends on how you see the situation. But then there was an argument that he never even applied to this military school. Well of course he didn’t. He never once said he did. In fact, he said he had $10 in his pocket. Applying to schools at that time required a $10 fee meaning he could only apply to one – his medical school.

So of course, this completely disqualifies the arguments I’ve seen in the articles. But I didn’t stop there – I went on to see Carson’s behaviour at said “press conference”.

At this press conference, the press kept asking him about these same questions, the same ridiculous, disqualified questions. As anyone would, he got frustrated that they were going over the same things again and again. He then threw the ball back in their court and asked why they didn’t dig into deeper issues with the current president and other candidates, one being Obama’s sealed school records that nobody can look at. Carson questioned why the press didn’t want to know what was on those school records and why they were being hidden. Honestly, that’s a good point. Carson’s story is out there, his memoir is there, and the questions they’re asking are already answered if they look at the whole picture. Why don’t they want to know things that are completely hidden for some reason? Doesn’t that make you question things?

Anyways, I find this whole situation completely blown way out of proportion. What do you guys think? Did I miss something? Is it as ridiculous as it appears to me? I honestly think they’re just digging for anything against Carson, even the most trivial of things, because if this was the worst thing he’s done, are we even looking at other politicians? It blows my mind. Leave your thoughts in the comments below!

Farmers Do Not Love Their Cows

I apologize that the title of this blog sounds hateful. I can assure you I don’t have farmers. For 2 years of my life, my family had our own farm. My best friend in university’s family had a beef farm, and for two years, my hairdresser and her husband had a beef farm. I don’t hate farmers in the least. But here is an argument I was part of this week.

Now, normally, I’m not such a vocal person. I’m not the kind of person who just looks for a fight or who believes everyone should think the same way I do. In fact, because of my Christian beliefs, I believe that God has given everyone the gift of free choice, and so I am not someone to take that away. Of course this gets bordered when it inflicts pain on others, but that’s a whole other topic. The fact is, in Exodus, God gave permission to eat certain animals, one of them being cows. So if you want to eat beef, I may not agree with it, but you have total right to do that. So that’s not where this argument is coming from.

What I saw this week was a picture of an almost frozen calf in a farmer’s truck. This is a typical appearance. In my two years of farming, we were up in the middle of the night to help our animals sometimes. I get the work it takes. I see the dedication farmers have. But the caption of the farmer is how much they cared/loved their cows. That’s where I had a problem.

Now, this world has problems enough with understanding what love really is. All too often we see people throwing around the “love” word without really meaning it. People date people and still keep their own needs above their partners. People get married, and stop caring for each other. This is an awful view of love. There are so many terrible views of love. One of the pure views of love that are left in the world is when I look at mothers who truly love their children. They will do anything to protect them and give them the best lives possible. That’s what love should be. Fighting for the one you love, willing to die for that person, that’s love.

Now, I know we are talking about animals and not humans, and many people do not consider them on the same level, so that’s fine. Let’s go with that. But love, in no sense of any manner, means killing the thing you love. Think of a child’s favourite toy, or an adult’s favourite car. You love that toy/car. If that object were to “die”, you would be incredibly upset and angry. These objects aren’t even alive. Yet the cows are. (This also goes for pigs/sheep/chickens, etc…)

So these ALIVE things that farmers are claiming they “love” are raised to be killed. Does that still seem like love to you? Is it caring to kill them?

I had someone tell me that ranchers and farmers are different. That’s cool. I can see they are different. That’s not a big deal to me. The ranchers say they are animal rights activists and they do what they can to give the cows the best lives they can. Well, although it does seem like a very nice gesture to give an animal the best life possible for their short lives, do you think they would call it a “good life” to live for a couple years then be killed? Would you call it a “good life” if you were raised to the age of 2 or 18 (2 year old cow = 18 years as a human) to know you would be placed with a bullet between your eyes and then cut apart for others to eat? Would you call that loving? Is that caring? Knowing you were only born to be food? I don’t think so.

I think there is such a disconnect in this world! It’s crazy! If you are willing to put all that care into an animal, taking a cow into your home to warm them up, saying that you “love” them, well, I will agree you are acting that way. But why do you stop loving them? Why does it change from this seemingly “love” feeling to a feeling of “get on my plate! Die!” Is that how you feel about your dog? Is that how you feel about your cat? Is that how you feel about your children? They’re only worth loving for so long before you get rid of them and don’t care what happens to them?

Some of you may be wondering why I have such a big deal over a simple word. But here’s the reason, people are not owning what actually happens. Sure, the cow may have a “good life” before its death date. But here’s what happens to this “beloved animal” on it’s death date. It gets taken on a usually overloaded cow trailer where they are not given water or anything of substance on the way to slaughter. Once they get to the slaughterhouse, they become terribly frightened. They hear other cows expressing their fright and just as a dog has amazing senses in the personality of humans, cows are no different. They can sense fear and know something is wrong. The “beloved” creatures are as scared as a child in the dark except darkness is easy to fix, death is not. So not only are they unloaded to this terrible place, many people abuse these animals while they are still alive, fighting with creatures who are only scared and reacting as such. Do you go in and punish your child for having a nightmare? These cows are LIVING their nightmare and being punished for it.

When the time comes to be killed, a bullet is put between their eyes. Now, according to government regulations, it’s ok if they’re not killed by that bullet as long as they are stunned and unable to move. Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s almost like a totally functioning person in a coma. These people, when out of the coma, are able to tell you things that people said because they were totally there, just not in control of their body. That’s how these cows are except they can’t tell you what people are saying, but they can tell you about the hooks that were painfully shoved through their legs. Would you like to be alive with hooks piercing your body? I’m going to guess not. Of course, the hook is not enough to kill the cow. So the next step is being sliced open down the middle of their bodies and through their neck. Mmm. What an awesome feeling while you’re still alive. So humane. Such a “loved” and “cared about” animal, right?

So here’s the thing. If you can accept what you do, and you have no problem saying cows are just money to you, that you don’t actually love them and don’t care about the violence you put them through, then by all means that’s at least not hypocritical. Again, I don’t agree with it and think it speaks volumes about the kind of person you are, but I at least appreciate the honesty. But if you advertise to the world that you are such a caring and loving person to these animals, you are so hypocritical and maybe even lying to yourself! I’m asking farmers and ranchers to take responsibility for their actions. You’re not really an animal rights activist when you’re still sending them to a bitter death. So that’s the part I have a problem with. Accept the realities of your job. Don’t just pretend that you’re doing something good for them because for all the good you did before, I guarantee the cows would choose a little less cozy life in exchange for keeping their lives. Nobody wants to die, not even animals. They are alive, they have thoughts, they are just unable to communicate to us the way we need to understand. So start thinking and accept what the truth is. That’s it. If you choose to continue to eat meat, like I said, that’s your choice. But know where that meat is coming from and what that animal is going through to get to your stomach when the world over knows a vegetarian/vegan diet is a way to thrive. You don’t need meat, you don’t need dairy products. But make your choice while being educated and not hiding the truth.

Know the truth, own your choice.

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

The Difficulties of Unconditional Love

My all-time favourite Bible verses are 1 Corinthians 13 (taken from Biblegateway.com).

13 If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge,and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸ Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part,¹⁰ but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. ¹¹ When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhoodbehind me. ¹² For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

¹³ And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

It’s such a descriptive example of what love is. There is no denying how we are supposed to love others. There is no ability to say, “I didn’t know what love meant.” This chapter says it all. This verse has all the details you need to know.

Now imagine if we took every child in the world and taught them that this is what love is. Imagine if we were to somehow impart this knowledge to the sons and daughters of the world before they embrace the dating scene. Imagine if they knew what we were saying when we looked someone in the eye and said I love you and actually meant it. Not just saying it, but actually acting that love out. This knowledge, if successfully translated in a way that children could understand, could potentially save them from experiences that could affect the rest of their lives. Mistakes that we’ve made, and hope for them to avoid.

Diving a little deeper into the “Love Chapter”: What does it really mean to love people in this way? No, it doesn’t just mean loving our spouses or family, but also the people around us. You see, Jesus did not simply pick the people He wanted to love. He loves us all. Unconditionally. And we are to become closer to His character. Which means…. we are to love all of His creations as well. The pesky neighbour, the vandalizing gang in the neighbourhood, the murderer in jail. All of them are loved by Jesus, and we are called to love and forgive them too.

Sometimes this love is so hard for me. When I have a defiant child in the class that will outright lie, ignore and challenge you. When I have an argument with someone when I know I’m right. The times that it seems others are being selfish and not thinking about the effects it could have on me. All of these things make it hard to love someone the way God calls us to.

But those verses remain. They don’t change. Sometimes it’s the patience that I need. Sometimes it’s giving up the grudges that I hold. Sometimes I need to let go of that pride, that selfishness, that anger. Sometimes I need to think of the other person before myself. And sometimes, I need to just put myself in their shoes.

Sometimes this means that I need to take a moment to myself. I need to take a few deep breaths and close my eyes. I need to remember the stupid things that I do sometimes, and the way Jesus would sit there with open arms and tell me He loves me and forgives me. Then I need to look at that child or that person through God’s lenses. That doesn’t mean discipline may not be required. But it does mean I need to love that child/person the same way God instructs me.

Unconditional love is not easy, but it is called for. I may never be perfect at it, but I must try. Our human nature is so quick to go the wrong way, yet Jesus calls us back. He calls us back into His arms to first make us feel loved so that we can share that with others. 

I encourage you to take the verses in 1 Corinthians 13 and start working on them for yourself. Not necessarily all at once, but take one part at a time. Apply it to your everyday. Apply it to the people you interact with and notice the difference it makes. 

If the world was ruled by love, there would be far less war. If the world was ruled by love, we would live in the most amazing place. You may not be able to change the whole world, but you can change a part of it. Be that change God calls you to be, and the change that people need to see. Go out and share God’s love today.