Love is patient
That is a metaphor.
Meaning the author is conveying an idea about “love” by showing us
something different. A metaphor is an
equation that presents the thing that we don’t know as the same as a thing that
we do know, i.e. A = B.
A Love = B patience.
The problem for me is that while I think I have loved, I am
not certain about the patience.
Certainly, one does not stay married for 25 years without having been at
least somewhat patient. The question for
me is what’s the measure of patience?
Does it have a limit? If so, then
have I hit it, gone beyond it, or fallen short of the mark?
Patient means to be at peace while one waits.
I must admit, that is not the first thing that comes to mind
when I think about love. It ain’t the
second or third or fourth thing either.
But it is the first thing that our pastor said to us about love when she
officiated over our wedding ceremony.
That day was hot. And
so was I, at least just before the wedding got started. Our ceremony was held up and I
was sitting in a car with my father waiting—impatiently—for the ceremony to
begin. There were other challenges that
day too. My train was put on inside out
and I had to correct it on the way into the chapel. My photographer took terrible
photographs. Some big things. Some small things. But a simple, union was consecrated on that
date. And so it was beautiful.
Weddings require a measure of patience. Marriages require more.
Love is at peace while one waits. Waits?
For what?
For whatever. But
chances are if one is waiting then it is likely for something that one wants
IMMEDIATELY. So if the waiting proves
too difficult. Too hard. One imagines that the love has been injured. That it’s been marred.
But no: Love is
patient.
So the difficulty in waiting, the perception of injury
happens elsewhere. Not to love—because love
waits patiently. And it doesn’t say for
how long. Sometimes the waiting seems to
be too long. But too long for whom?
Love waits peacefully.
So the perception of waiting “too long” happens
elsewhere.
Time. The perception
of a limit. An expiration date. That is not love.
After a quarter century of marriage, this simple revelation is clear evidence that God is giving me another opportunity to get
things right.
Now THAT is loving.
