Not a One

               Little Chad was a shy, quiet
young man. One day he came home and told his mother that he’d like to make a
valentine for everyone in his class. Her heart sank. She thought, “I wish
he wouldn’t do that!” because she had watched the children when they
walked home from school. Her Chad was always behind them. They laughed and hung
on to each other and talked to each other. But Chad was never included.
Nevertheless, she decided she would go along with her son. So she purchased the
paper and glue and crayons. For three weeks, night after night, Chad
painstakingly made 35 valentines. 

Valentine’s Day dawned, and Chad
was beside himself with excitement. He carefully stacked them up, put them in a
bag, and bolted out the door. His mother decided to bake him his favorite
cookies and serve them nice and warm with a cool glass of milk when he came
home from school. She just knew he would be disappointed and maybe that would
ease the pain a little. It hurt her to think that he wouldn’t get many
valentines – maybe none at all. 
That afternoon she had the
cookies and milk on the table. When she heard the children outside, she looked
out the window. Sure enough, there they came, laughing and having the best
time. And, as always, there was Chad in the rear. He walked a little faster
than usual. She fully expected him to burst into tears as soon as he got
inside. His arms were empty, she noticed, and when the door opened she choked
back the tears. 
“Mommy has some cookies and
milk for you,” she said. But he hardly heard her words. He
just marched right on by, his face aglow, and all he could say was: “Not a
one. Not a one.” 
Her heart sank. And then he
added, “I didn’t forget a one, not a single one!”
                                                           –Author unknown
Love. That word commonly used to
describe raging hormones, warm-fuzzy emotions, and attraction. It is often spoken
during moments of joy, adoration, and happiness; rarely used during moments of
bitter hurt, unmet expectations, and rejection. Love . . . the world makes it
seem so fickle; Harriet Smith falls in and out of it, characters in movies frequently
abuse it, and sadly real life Christians often withhold it. 
Certainly I hope to experience love
in all its romantic forms but there is so much more to love than my girlish
ideas often hold. Love is what Christ did for me when I despised Him and His
ways; it’s how He gave His life a ransom for me while forgiving me of my
rebellion. It is my mom’s gentle care when I’m sick, my siblings enduring
friendship when I’ve spoken harshly, my daddy’s patience with my indiscipline. It’s giving with no expectation of recieving . . . like sweet little Chad. Love
is dying to self so others may live. How glad I am to have been shown
the greatest examples of charity.
God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever
believeth on him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John
“Greater love hath no man than this,
that a man lay down his life for his friends.
Ye are my friends, if ye do
whatsoever I command you. Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant
knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things
that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you.

 Ye have not chosen
me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth
fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the
Father in my name, he may give it you.”

John 15:13-16

Endeavouring to love like Christ,

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