Love does this, but I do that

Carvaggio, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, 1601-1602

Love is patient, love is kind, but I am loving and kind only part of the time.

Love does not envy, it does not boast, but I saw a post on Instagram of a family all smiles, and I wanted what they had–faces not hindered by sensory overload.

Love is not arrogant or rude, but I saw a group of people at Sam’s, not wearing masks, and I turned to my daughter and hollered “Watch out” so loud that they could hear. It was wrong. It was rude. It was passive aggressive.

Love keeps no record of wrongs, but I am still working to forgive my own father for things he doesn’t even remember.

Love does not delight in evil, but I read the news about a politician and thought, “Well, he had it coming to him.”

Love rejoices with the truth. But I’ve turned good things into idols. I’ve put my trust in what can’t be trusted: money, politics, prophets, preachers.

For now I see through a mirror darkly, but later I shall behold face to face, not through Facebook photos or Zoom calls, not through masks that protect me from COVID, or masks of self-protection that I have formed out of words, gestures and good works.

Face to face like Doubting Thomas facing Risen Jesus.

“Unless I see, unless I touch,” he said. And the Lord did not rebuke him. The Lord did not say, “Thomas, you’re a fool.” Instead, he said, “Put your finger here, put your hand right there. See my hands. Touch my side.”

Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.