I am not the same man since you've left.
I'm short with others.
I grumble into the phone.
I arrive to work disheveled, and depart looking sharp. I "peel out" when I leave in the evenings. I take my coffee cold with a ton of sugars. I scowl at anyone who stands next to my desk, but I don't look directly at them while I'm doing it.
I throw small objects across the room - erasers, styrofoam puffs, chewable lozenges - without looking to see who gets hit.
I don't sing anymore.
You wouldn't even recognize me, kid. I've changed.
2 comments:
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If I could speak in any
language in heaven or
on earth but didn't love
others, I would only be
making meaningless noise
like a loud gong or a
clanging cymbal. If I
had the gift of prophecy,
and if I knew all the
mysteries of the future
and knew everything
about everything, but
didn't love others, what
good would I be? And
if I had the gift of faith
so that I could speak
to a mountain and make
it move, without love
I would be no good to
anybody. If I gave
everything I have to
the poor and even
sacrificed my body,
I could boast about it;
but if I didn't love others,
I would be of no value
whatsoever. Love is
patient and kind. Love
is not jealous or boastful
or proud or rude. Love
does not demand its
own way. Love is not
irritable, and it keeps
no record of when it
has been wronged.
It is never glad about
injustice but rejoices
whenever the truth
wins out. Love never
gives up, never loses
faith, is always hopeful,
and endures through
every circumstance.
May You Always
Experience This
Kind Of Love,
Dr. Howdy
If I put my comments out into the world without so much as reading the posts to which they apply but have not love, then I am like a resounding belch that hath no nutritiousness, or like a tinkling trickle of pee. If I post the same gay-ass form-letter comment on a hundred blogs at once as they update but have not love, then I am as a fifty pound bag into which someone has attempted to stuff one hundred pounds of stinky.
Oh wait. That's not me, that's you.
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