Dear friends, I am not writing a new commandment for you; rather it is an old one you have had from the very beginning. This old commandment—to love one another—is the same message you heard before. Yet it is also new. For the darkness is disappearing, and the true light is already shining.
Ever notice how life feels so new when love is in the air? Blue sky. Fresh oxygen. Green grass. Rustling breeze. I can see that concept working in our marriage: Gina is just as new and beautiful as the day I met her.
Love always was. Yet love is new. Love is now. Anything less than love causes fixation and tunnel vision. As the dark night of lovelessness and loneliness dissolves into the dawn of love, I can see for miles and miles. Feeling found and loved awakens and intoxicates all my senses. Even the illusion of thinking I’m loved can make me high.
Being loved by someone else is like a spring meadow of fresh new grass and flowers. But under the hot summer sun, it soon withers and fades.
But being the one who loves well is a fountain that springs from within and waters those around me, returning its life back to me.
What’s the lesson? It’s lovely to be loved. But ultimate life happens when I’m the one who loves.