If I decorate my house perfectly with bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny baubles, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another decorator.
If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas biscuits, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtimes, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another cook.
If I decorate the Christmas tree with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir’s cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.
Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband or wife.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn’t envy another’s home that has co-ordinated Christmas china and table cloths.
Love doesn’t yell at the children to get out of the way.
Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails. Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust.