the living word

When I read from Ephesians 3 this morning, it reminded me of the way I write to my fiancée, Martina. When Paul speaks of Christ's love (starting in verse 14), superlatives link one on another, tumbling into a small avalanche of run-on sentences. What struck me before as the dense circumlocutions of erudition are now the hopeless but enduring efforts of a man who is completely in love.

It's a hard thing to describe, but lack for words or eloquence has never halted love's expression. I'm not sure how I'll communicate with Martina in Senegal, but I know I'll try every day this year. I'm even less sure how I'll ever tell her how much I love her, but I'll try every day for the rest of my life.

Paul lived that love for Jesus. I want to do that, too.

God's love, of course, came first. In the beginning was the Word . . . the Word became a human, and lived with us, full of grace and truth. Of all lovers, God is in the best position to write a love letter. He could simply create the perfect words to describe the fullness, the essence, and the intent of His love to his rebellious creation. Yet the Word chose to live among us -- to actively define His love by example. Yes, He left us a book full of the most beautiful love poetry in the world, but that wasn't all. He lived that love for us. I want to live my love to Martina, and I especially want to learn to live that love for Him who first loved me.