Only the things done in love matter.
Only the things done in love weigh enough to stamp eternity. Everything else just floats off the surface as vapor.
It’s not the act. It’s the intent.
Love might wear you out, but it doesn’t get tired that easily.
Love lets you be where you are right now, knowing you won’t always be here. It knows This too shall pass.
Love is lighter than gravity with a terrible memory for the bad stuff people do.
Love is more a grandmother and less a police officer.
Love doesn’t look down in vulnerable moments. It just looks you square in the eye. And it doesn’t flinch at all that you’re uncomfortable.
Love chuckles at the past, beams bright toward the future and sits perfectly content in this moment. Because its a pretty good one.
Love isn’t in a hurry, doesn’t wish it was somewhere else. Love can silence the phone and taste dinner.
Love likes itself, doesn’t wish it was someone else. Love takes good care of itself, but isn’t self-obsessed. Love doesn’t belittle itself because it doesn’t need your compliments. And it’s confident enough to care about you, to really listen, to squat down next to you in the dirt and feel all you feel.
Love looks past sour, crusty shells to warm, squishy insides. And knows just the words to safely let the guts out.
Love listens because the stories are the people, and the people always matter.
Love can tell you you’re wrong so kind you won’t feel the sting. You will just be grateful.
Indeed, only the things done in love matter.
Jesus is love. If you don’t know him yet, introduce yourself.