The Many Words for Love

Someone once wrote: Love is another word for pain.

That is true, but only partially.
Consider the many faces of Love:

Love suffers long

Love is another word for Pain

and is kind;

Love is another word for Kindness

love does not envy;

Love is another word for Contentment

love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;

Love is another word for Humility

does not behave rudely,

Love is another word for Courtesy

does not seek its own,

Love is another word for Selflessness

is not provoked,

Love is another word for Serenity

thinks no evil;

Love is another word for Forgiveness

does not rejoice in iniquity, rejoices in the truth;

Love is another word for Righteousness

Bears all things,

Love is another word for Strength

Believes all things, hopes all things,

Love is another word for Faith

Endures all things.

Love is another word for Perseverance

(1 Corinthians 13: 4-7)

Love can indeed be painful. Nevertheless, somewhere down the road (most) people learn to be less self-centered and (begin to) see that in loving and giving, there is joy, peace, and fulfillment. People then learn to be less reactive and more responsive towards Love.

Consider:
Mothers who sacrifice their rest, even their lives, for their babies.
Parents who endure the troubles caused by their children.
Husbands who bear demanding professions to provide for their families.
Wives who forgo their careers to raise families.
Married couples withstanding each other’s weaknesses and annoying habits.
Engaged couples who sacrifice a more comfortable lifestyle to save up for marriages.

Even God Himself. Because of Love Christ “made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a servant… humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death on the cross.” (Philippians 2:7-8)

YET

“Therefore God also has highly exalted Him…” (Philippians 2:9)

Consider:
The peace in watching your loved ones sleeping.
The joy of parents when seeing their children utter their first words, and walk their first steps.
The excitement of becoming grandparents.
The intimacy of couples who have together endured years of hardships.
And more.

Yes, Love is rewarding.

All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, and a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.

– Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven

The happiness of a man consists not in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.

- Anonymous
Quoted from a radio ad ;)

Altered State

By Rick Eid


She had me at “You look different than I remembered.” It wasn't the opening line of my dreams, I admit, but it didn't matter. I was transfixed by N's earnest eyes, wavy yellow hair, and throaty Debra Winger voice. Twenty minutes later, I ordered a $42 filet mignon — and couldn't take a bite. I was so enraptured, I was nauseated. No woman has ever caused me to lose my appetite — though a few have made me want to throw up. Before date number three, I tried on 11 different shirts — beating my previous predate shirt-trying-on record by 10. A few weeks later, I walked out of a Hollywood soiree overflowing with uninhibited wannabe starlets so I could spend the night with N eating turkey meat loaf and watching Finding Nemo. The following Saturday I canceled golf plans in order to go dog-collar shopping for her chihuahua, Tito. The next day, we went on a frenzied search for the perfect espresso machine — even though neither one of us really likes espresso. It just seemed like the right thing to do. But I suppose the moment I really knew she was The One was when an internist was probing my prostate during an annual checkup. For those two invasive seconds, all I could think about was how much I loved N and how unfair it would be to get sick now, after all those years of being healthy and not madly in love. When Dr. Gorlitz removed his finger from my you-know-where (and nodded approvingly), I'd never been happier. Not because the exam was over, but because I knew my life was about to begin.

p-r-o-m

Prom is seemingly a culmination of high school social life, where social aptitudes are put through the tests of fire and water in one night. Senior students face it with a mix of excitement and fear, as if it would be the time of their lives.

In many cases, prom is really a silent competition.
It is a time to flaunt the most stylish and expensive suits and dresses, the best and most dazzling looks, and the hottest dates. The popular exercise their freedom to appoint the perfect dates while the rest – the majority ‘losers’ – have their (secret) romantic wishes dashed and hearts broken.

I remember my prom – I remember very well the pain I felt.

I remember anxiously searching – in an ordinary department store – for an affordable something that would not make me look too bad. I was flabby and unattractive; and being a scholarship student, I could not afford a designer label or a tailored dress, or a fancy hair-do. Then the boy I secretly pined for, chose one of the most popular girls as his date instead of me (doh, obviously). It was expected to go with a partner of opposite sex, so I resolved to ask a boy whom nobody wanted as well.

Looking back now I feel rather sorry for him, having used him as a prop. Not that I am ungrateful. He could not and would not dance, but he wore an outfit that would suit what he thought I would wear. When the social pressure inside the ballroom became too much to bear, he faithfully walked with me around the lobby, along the hallways, up and down the hotel stairs – without voicing a word of complaint. (Dear Friend, if you are reading this, many, many thanks.)

Later that night, having paid much money for the ballroom, the students were given a fifty percent discount to rent a suite. Those who opted to stay, among others, were me, my crush, and his date. Ouch. My date chose to go home.

It became a night of stabbing pain and fake smiles.

However, something much worse was the fact that I was foolish enough to overlook what I should have cherished.


Had I understood better, I would have focused on those who offered me the warmth and happiness of friendship. I should have better appreciated the gift a close friend gave later that night. I could have focused on the joy of sharing a blanket with good friends while watching The Truman Show in the hotel suite. I could have cherished the last few moments our little circle of friends had, before each of us went our separate ways. That circle of friends was one of nerds, geeks and dorks, but we love(d) each other.

Had I known better, I would not have worried so much about my looks. I would not have felt that heart-broken about my crush (whom I thought I loved very much – I was dead wrong) and that jealous of his date, who had all the looks and wore an exquisite princess dress specially tailored for the occasion. I should not have used my date as a prop and gone with a good friend instead – someone whose company I could genuinely enjoy and vice versa.


It is foolish to stack adolescent romantic dreams on a prom night. After all, it is only a prom. Most couples who exchanged romantic promises that night did break up a while later. I remember what some people wore and how stunning some people looked then. I remember who the prom king and queen were. Yet those things no longer matter now.

Prom should be a celebration of friendship and young adulthood; with good food, good company, and a good amount of sensibility. Apart from this, prom is not that important – really.