Contemplations of a Young Mom, First Part

If I build my parenting around ways I can make Ellie like me more, I'm doing it wrong.

Maybe that seems obvious, but this very problem did not come about loudly, but subtly and quietly. Oftentimes, especially when Ellie was between 3 and 6 months and began to show personality and preference, I found myself feeling jealous of Ellie's affection and attention. "She seems to like this person more than me," I would think, or, "Why does it seems like she's happier with (insert name) than with me?"

While I, at first, battled these thoughts with the self-provided assurance that "no one can replace Mom," I began to realize that I was merely dealing with the symptoms and not the disease by doing so. I asked myself, what will it look like when Ellie is, say, 13, and has a favorite female mentor she tends to confide in more than me? Will I feel resentful towards my own daughter? Towards the mentor? Will I make desperate attempts to be more fun, or funnier, or more interesting, in order to draw my child's attention back to me?

I didn't want to be that woman. I wanted to love Ellie, love her well. And though I began to tell myself, "I only feel this way because I love Ellie so much," it brought me to the question: What do I consider love? Vying for Ellie's attention isn't acting out of love - it's acting out of insecurity. That's not how I want to parent.

So, what do I consider "love?" Well, what does Christ's love look like? Sacrifice, patience, care, and compassion, despite whether the person receiving those things would end up following him beyond the grave or deserting him at their first glance of the horror of Calvary. Christ's love didn't look to what he'd receive from the sacrifice. It looked to how to obey the Father. So should my love for my daughter, and any future children should God grant them to me, look - never expecting or exacting a reward for my faithfulness as a mother, but simply growing more in Christlikeness, for that is what God calls me to.

As Rachel Jankovic -  a Christian writer and mother I much admire - comments, writing about this lesson does not mean I have checked or could justify checking it off my sanctification list. These things I write about - these are the daily battles I fight. Chances are that if I feel like I have it down one day, I'll be struggling like crazy the next. Let us pray for one another, that we fight these battles better each time they come around by throwing ourselves upon God's grace. Amen.

A Swirl as of Feathers

I rediscovered a curious poem that I wrote a year ago. It's a love poem, but it's sad, and I was and am happily married. I think someone or something else inspired it - maybe it was actually just a swirl of feathers, who knows -  but I can't remember:

A swirl as of feathers
A swoop and a bend as if to kiss
A tenderness and breathless passion
Like a lily field aflame
But softly rises smoke and fire
And naught left of lilies but lies
A swoop of a ghost and a gentle kiss
And all that's left of remembered bliss
A swirl as of feathers

Words Trapped Behind a Fearful Smile

As the night settles over the mountains of Colorado Springs, my Thanksgiving break draws to a close. I've had a wonderful week with my parents- and sisters-in-law, and Chris' and my friend Stephen.

I have a feeling of letdown. Vaguely, I dread returning to Norman, knowing that life wil resume, and with it, all the everyday insecurities I long to escape. When I'm here, I rest in the knowledge that I'm loved. Granted, it took until almost six months ago for me to feel entirely myself with my in-laws, comfortable enough to let loose while knowing they accept me just the way I am.

I must admit that it takes me a looong time to trust anyone fully. When I do, it's so freeing! It's like stepping from a greyish world into an entirely new reality, where I experience hope and confidence and joy to overflowing. It's like suddenly realizing the heart of God, realizing the holy pride he feels in his unique creation -- me.

In "normal life," though, I don't know who I can trust, no matter how many times they've "proved" themselves to me. My warped perspective on life is that everyone has a button that drives them away for good, and it's only a matter of stumbling over and pushing that button. The longer I spend with a person, the more likely I am to find that button and lose their love forever. That's why it's difficult for me to grow attached. The deeper and longer I love, the greater the risk of heartbreak -- a keener kind than I experienced in middle school break-ups. This is what I hold to every day I'm in Norman, going about my business at OU and elsewhere.

Now that I realize this, I long to give it over to God. I cannot live in bondage depending on who I'm with or where I'm located. It is not the responsibility of every person outside my family to show me exactly what I want to see as proof of their sincerity. They can't show me perfect love -- I have to realize this.

Not only that -- I have to realize that there is a greater love that fills my need, because it truly is a need. When we sinned against God, we were cut off from him and his glory, and brought a death sentence on ourselves. Our debt was too great to pay. God knew that. He sent down his son, the very image of himself, to live a human life, bearing our human temptations and pains, and at the end of it endure false accusations, betrayal and brutal murder at the hands of those who he loved perfectly. In that way, he paid the blood price that was too much for us to pay, and he paid it in full. Not only that, he rose again, thereby proving himself conquerer of sin and death -- the very things that kept us away from his great heart. He ascended into heaven. He has prepared a place for us with him. One day, he will come again, and reign in all beauty, goodness and majesty that we have barely tasted.

Hallelujah. May his grace rain down on me in this struggle.

Letter to a Lovelorn Friend

Dear friend,

I wish that my telling you that God has a plan in this, and that you're worth more than you could possibly know, could soothe your hurting heart. However, after all the rejection you've been through, I know you doubt yourself, wondering what's wrong with you. Is it your personality? Your appearance? Your past? I want to scream, "It's none of those things! There is nothing wrong with you!" What basis do you have for believing me, though? I don't blame you for wanting proof that many will consider the one you marry someday a truly lucky person.

I know. You can't hear it from me, since I'm already married -- for me, the game is over. That doesn't offend me in the least, it only makes me pray harder. My relationship status doesn't de-legitimize the pain I feel for you. I've watched you cringe from the wounds that romantic interests have dealt you continuously. I've watched them try to hang on to the things they like about you while letting go of everything else -- a cruel half-commitment, a friendship that tortures you, built on the most fragile foundation. It's a keen form of injustice.

Unfortunately, it's also normal. It's the nature of our strange dating culture, of skewed expectations and of miscommunication between men and women. Anyone who's been broken up with has felt it. For some reason, though, you seem to get a dose of it more often than anyone else I know.

How can that be? You are a treasure.

I know God is not cruel, and he is not a trickster. He would not toy with you. He is so good and faithful. Keep holding on to that! I admire you for already doing so. I only wish I could make you believe it with all your heart.

In any case, I will continue to lift you up in prayer. I can't wait for that day that your future spouse sees your face and knows they have found someone worth holding on to with every scrap of love in them. On that day, we can rejoice together.

Keeping hoping until then,
Jaimie

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Thirteenth Part

Thirteenth part?! Did you know that most elevators (and therefore, buildings), do not have a thirteenth floor due to the superstition that the number is unlucky? Do not worry, dear reader. This post is not unlucky, because "in my experience, there's no such thing as luck" (name that quote and win the prize of perpetual awesomeness!).

Ahem. Sorry about the random introductory paragraph. Streams of consciousness should cease to surprise you by now, though, coming from me.

I love my husband with all of my heart. He takes such good care of me. I have learned, however, that no matter how well Chris does at "husbanding," marriage can't fix the hurts in my heart.

I have always harbored insecurities about my self-worth. Specifically, I have trouble believing I am beautiful, and that love is truly unconditional.

Before I even started dating, I expected that having a man utterly committed to me would take care of my issues. All I needed were those dear compliments and that flattering pursuit to let me know that I was worth fighting for -- then everything would be okay.

Here's the catch: for a short time, it was true. I felt okay. The thrill of being chased provided me with an emotional high that made me forget my self-doubts. After the dating "honeymoon period" ended -- a sixth- month period, some say -- I discovered that I was floundering in my insecurities alone...again!

Friends have asked if marriage alleviated my insecurities -- indeed, they have subtly asked if it eradicated them altogether. Marriage gives me a living picture of Christ's love for me, but it only clarifies an understanding I've had nearly all my life. Marriage isn't the cure. Christ is the only cure -- that is a fact that doesn't change, no matter what relationship stage you're in. Don't trust anything else to "fix" things in your heart, even if you're sure that "if you only had ____, you wouldn't deal with ____."

It isn't easy to trust that what Christ promises about his power, healing and goodness is true. However, believe me when I say don't wait for earthly circumstances to change before bringing heart issues to the Lord. He is completely dependable, and he will not turn you away. In fact, he will rejoice to see his child trusting him with the most fragile parts of life.

Intriguing Little Poison

While jamming out to various songs in my head today as I am wont to do, my mental radio tuned to that old song by the Pussycat Dolls, "Don't Cha." Now, it's really bugging me.

"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?...don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me? Don't cha?" the lyrics taunt. The song paints a picture of the singer blatantly flaunting her charms in front of a guy who's "taken," filling him with doubt and discontent about the woman he's with.

The thing that disturbs me is how true to life such an attitude is. Why was the song so popular awhile back? It resonates with people, because most women (and men) have probably had a "don't cha" moment where they wanted to strut their stuff and say, "Look at me! I'm sooo much better!"

There's something fun about sinning -- otherwise, we wouldn't do it. That's true here. The element of competition makes the theme of the song titillating, which makes it all the more perfidious.

Dating people, engaged people, married people, comparison is poison. Once you allow yourself to start looking at others in order to find areas where your significant other falls short, trust me, you will find areas where they do -- endless areas, in fact. The seemingly innocent little "if only he/she..." game will become a perilously slippery slope, creating unrealistic expectations for the person that he/she will not be able to live up to! As they begin to fail you in those expectations, bitterness and discontent will grow, as surely as a seed will sprout when planted and watered under the right conditions.

Do your significant other a favor, and evaluate them by the Word and wise counsel on their own merit. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has annoying attributes. Any ideal you have you've made up in a fantasy world, trust me. Slap someone on a chart of those ideals and they are doomed to fail the test.

When the "don't cha" thoughts arise, stop. Reject the thought, taking it captive in the power and for the sake of Christ. Replace the thought with meditations on what is good and admirable.

Nobody -- that is, nobody I know -- likes poison! It may smell good, but do yourself a favor -- after you waft the scent over to your nose with your hand like your good chemistry teacher taught you to do, take note of what the smell indicates, put down the vial, and walk away.

Ripped in Two

No matter how sanctified I grow to be in this lifetime, my love will not be sufficient for anyone.

No, no. No matter how much I give of my own power, it will never be enough to heal a hurting person. I will never be able to stopper the source of human tears. My words will never have the power to heal the dull ache of a broken heart.

I talk myself into believing that during the times when all's going well, I am more equipped to love like Christ than I am at any other time. I think that if I've memorized enough verses that week or spouted enough spiritual quips, I don't need Christ with quite the desperation I needed him yesterday. I can stand on my own a little more.

Right?

Sometimes it's in the most quiet moments that I realize how deep my pride runs. I wait around for God to give me the power to do a certain thing that I want to do, conceivably "for him." When I get the power, as it were, I do that thing, then say, "Okay, God, thanks for the help!" and walk on, subconsciously believing that next time I face a similar situation, he will have already trained me in how to handle it, and I won't need him. I tell myself that I won't bother him as he helps all the other people on earth. I'll only call on him to help me with something "new."

This can't be. I am saved, yes, but the principle behind salvation runs deeper than I realized that morning in fourth grade Sunday school when I declared Christ king of my heart. Christ now lives in me by his Holy Spirit. Any time I try to live apart from the Spirit, whether in good times or in bad, I am ripping my very self away. I am utterly incapable of living an identity-less life, and that's what I attempt to do when I put Christ aside until I "need him."

I don't ever not need him -- that's the bottom line. My efforts will never, ever be godly enough to portray God accurately to those who do not know him (and those who do). Only in letting God himself, in the form of his Spirit, live through me will I be a true picture of his character and love.

The Krychocosm - Episode V: Mr. Darcy

The Krychocosm - Episode III: Disney

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Eleventh Part

I miss the people I love very easily, so you can imagine how much I miss Chris when he's gone. Some scoff or laugh at me for declaring I can't wait to see him after one day of being apart, but I don't care.

Aneissa and Kevin married yesterday. Sitting back at the reception table, surveying the crowded tables and dance floor, I basked in joy for the new couple. When God draws two people together, I glimpse divine beauty and experience divine happiness. A partnership has come to completion in a covenant made before our King. Two people are irrevocably connected. There is a sense of finality and of rightness.

Chris has been gone since Friday morning. I knew I would miss him, but I, of course, didn't know how God would whisper in my heart through that longing.

I realized that I was glad that I missed Chris like I did. God used that to renew my deeply burning joy in and appreciation for oneness. Without Chris, I feel bare and incomplete--like I'm wearing tennis shoes without socks, or like I forgot my wedding ring for a day.

How great a miracle, when God makes two parts into a unit, like a puzzle that only the Father, Son and Holy Spirit in their oneness can both create and complete.

A Coming Soon and Deserved Praise

I was going to blog about my experience at a Catholic mass/Easter vigil last night, but I'd rather spend some quality time with my hubby! That being said, I will tell you what was beautiful, what I disagreed with and how I embarassed myself soon.

The most important thing I have to say, though:

Christ has not only set us free from sin AND death, he has conquered them.

We are raised from death because He is risen.


What a way to glorify God. In a dying world, the life in God's children testifies to his redemptive power, his overwhelming and flawless love, his perfect purpose and his utter holiness.


HALLELUJAH!

Comment on the Book and its Cover

It's so easy to hide pain behind one's eyes, isn't it?

Things are always brewing in my head as I stroll down the South Oval.

The day's frustrations descend on me like "laughing fates" (Timothy Zahn phrase), adding to the weight of the unnecessary what-ifs and I-wish-thats already there.
In my head, I'm going on a tirade, and it's not cathartic. I "say" things I wouldn't say out loud when I'm ranting inside my brain. That just exacerbates the hurt.

I don't know why some things hurt me the way they do--I'm so aware that people are imperfect, and nothing distinguishes me morally from them except the grace of God.

I'm just thinking out loud, I suppose, letting my voice out of the confines of my brain. The point of this post was going to be that you can never know what people are feeling by looking at them. Even the most cool and collected person on campus has some wound that only God can heal. This is important--not easy!--to be aware of at all times, because we will inevitably face someone who hurts, annoys or even hates us. And, if we are obedient, we'll still love them.

Love is difficult, sometimes!

P.S. I hate enrollment.

My song to anyone once shafted by love.

I pulled out my 6th grade journal yesterday--a detailed chronicle of my life from 2001 to 2005. It laughed hysterically at my melodramatic accounts of the rambunctious boys who called me "cutie" and put crickets in my locker to the girls I code-named because they were my tacit enemies or who drew comic strips with me and loved me like a faithful sister.

I'm an emotional person, so the stories resurrected vivid memories. It won't surprise you to know that the memories about disappointed love were most clear.

I revel in the love of my husband now. It's a more beautiful love than I had a concept of at age 12, that's for sure! Finding him wasn't the ending of a fairy tale like I thought it would be. Instead, it was the opening of an adventure more grand and awesome than any story my writer's mind ever contrived.

I have a background of heartbreak, but look where God has taken me.
This song is an example of where I used to be.
Hopefully, it will encourage anyone who is disillusioned and ready to give up on a God-sent love story.

This was penned in my journal after the final sentence of the entry: "Perhaps, one goodbye isn't good enough..."

What Went Wrong
written June 16, 2004

I thought that for sure all the wounds had healed up/and nothing would disturb me anymore
But I opened up my journal yesterday/finding that your name was written on the cover
I turn the page, and a picture that I drew/traces lines of adoration in your smile
I turn the radio on and music floods my mind/and it just happens to be our song!

Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/What have I ever done to you?
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
where we went wrong!
Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/Your eyes are more than I can bear
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
if you miss me!/Oh, where did we go wrong?
Where did we go wrong?

Viewing running commentaries everywhere that I alight/of lovers who are on the path we took
A passage strangely familiar to me as I read at night/is turning up in every single book
I close my eyes, maybe sleep will kill the pain/but I only get a vision of our stars
And when I open them, I daydream for an hour/of running into warm and open arms!

Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/What have I ever done to you?
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
where we went wrong!
Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/Your eyes are more than I can bear
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
if you miss me!/Oh, where did we go wrong?
Where did we go wrong?

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Ninth Part

In some ways, I don't think marriage differs that much from dating. Before you married people say, "That's not true!," see what I mean:

When I first began dating, I--like many other dreamy-eyed middle school girls--had a problem with idolizing the guys I was into. My thoughts were consumed with fantasies: what would we talk about the next day, would he ask me out, where would we go if he did, would he be my first kiss?

My first "long-term relationship" was plagued by an ongoing battle between devotion to God and devotion to my boyfriend. Though I definitely loved and served God, I pushed him to the wayside, knowing deep down that my boyfriend was the one thing I would hesitate--or maybe refuse--to give up if God asked.

So, as the story goes, I learned the hard way, and the boy fell out of my life, and I fell into God's arms. That was the first step toward a new understanding of his lordship over me (not to mention everything else).

My freshman year of college, my world was rocked when I met Chris, little knowing I would marry him not very long afterward. We went through many spiritual ups and downs together during our dating and engagement, and by the time things had settled down a bit, I concluded that I had man-idolatry out of my system, and that's why God was allowed me meet Chris and have the love story I always dreamed of.

Well, I found out, it doesn't actually work that way.

Dating, engagement, marriage - these things aren't the rewards for completely arriving at the place where we never depend on our significant other to fulfill needs and give peace where only God can.

Even now, there are days I feel a strong wave of emotion: I talk to Chris, I try to get his help. Sometimes we get frustrated with each other. Sometimes we sympathize and cry together. And many times, those things were what was appropriate and needed. However, I still find myself playing the middle school game: I'm running to him, asking him to do the impossible, while Father God--our "jealous" God--desires to be my all in all and to take perfect care of me.

Women: your future/now husband cannot give you the kind of love that will emotionally fulfill you at all times and in the all the right ways. Only God loves perfectly.

Men: you cannot fix all the problems in and for your future/now wife, even if she brings them to you with that expectation. Only God "fixes" perfectly. :)

How good is our God.

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Sixth Part

Marriage is a beautiful mess, most of the time, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Today, my eyes are more open to its beauty than it's messiness!

I was away for two and a half days visiting my family in Fort Worth, and only upon returning to my husband in Norman did I realize that "home" is where he is. Because of this, I can be me when I'm with him...and that is a risk both terrifying and great.

The downfall of my introversion is my proclivity to run away from people. I find myself getting frustrated and angry at my husband, sometimes, when he tries to get to know me even more. I refuse to let him near me emotionally, fearing he'll discover a blackness in me that he can't reconcile, and I will be abandoned. It's what I deserve, right?

God is breaking that in me through Chris. Like Chris's love, God's love is not predicated on my "goodness." And, no matter the blackness unearthed by time and sanctification, I cannot be separated from Him. Like my marriage to Chris is sealed and unbroken, so is my position as a child of Father God.

Now, if only to let this kind of love extend beyond husband and wife! I've recently been accused of refusing grace to someone who has tumbled down the spiritual mountain, so to speak. As you can imagine, the comment stung, and left me listening for the Spirit's conviction or reassurance over my flesh's condemnation.

I don't want the deeper kind of love that Chris and I strive to show one another to remain in the microcosm of marriage. I don't mean to make the maintenance of this mindset sound like an easy project. As Paul repeats in Philippians 3:12-14, I don't consider myself to have taken hold of this. That's why it's good for me to articulate it here, as best I can. There's tacit accountability in openly recognizing an issue.

Well, dear reader, I don't know if you'll hear from me again before Christmas, so I say: Merry Christmas, and joy in the manifestation of perfect love that we're celebrating! I want to go play HALO Live with Chris and eat the fudge that P.J. and Katie brought over at 7:30 this morning!

Jaimie, out!

Trying to be Funny FAIL

I want to announce with confidence, as a way of encouragement for you, that God was 100% faithful to encourage me when I cried out to Him this week. He is ready to respond even when our responses are fraught with frustration, blue-ness (2 Cor. 7:6), or discouragement to the point of hopelessness. I wish none of us would ever have to get there before coming upon our hope in Him; the good news is that we do have hope in Him!

---

I'm sure you're dying to hear an update on my food allergy adventures, right?
Week 1: The Week of Lactoselessness. Dun dun dun.
It's as scary as it sounds, since I can't have any ice cream.

The lessons I've learned from this food foray so far have been that the Homeland on Lindsey Street does not carry soy milk (lame).

That, however, is not the point of today's post. This is:
Being a "nice person" is not the same as being a loving person.

I was sitting in the history of journalism class with my friend, Yolanda*, on Wednesday. She complained about "stupid sorority girls" popping their gum, and I launched off into a recycled speech about how I could never last in the sorority environment. My joking, I thought, was harmless, as I bantered about how I would be incited to criminal activity by my short temper plus the overabundance of estrogen.
*Name change...lol.

Suddenly, the Spirit dropped conviction on me like a baby grand piano. I literally felt as if every person within a ten-foot radius of me was listening and weighing each word I was saying. I could imagine the impressions they might be receiving from my words: "Does she think that she's better than sorority girls, somehow?" "Her speech, her jokes, are the same as everyone else's. Everyone's the same."

I felt ashamed, almost startled. This is not how I want to portray the character of Christ! I realized. As Christians, you and I are called to a standard of holiness in our speech that may seem ridiculous to the world. Guarding our words--representing Christ as His ambassadors--means more than simply avoiding cuss words and not making dirty jokes. Our speech should show love, the same as our other actions. I didn't speak love that day; I'm glad that piano fell on me.

That's my story! Let's commit ourselves to becoming more and more like Christ while we're on this earth, in the "little" ways as much as the obvious ones! He is faithful to teach us, guide us and give us chance after chance to live what we're learning from Him.

A bit more good news before I sign off. La Bamba is not totaled! Hooray! The poor thing deserves some sort of badge of honor for surviving so many kerfuffles. Haha. Kerfuffle. Use that in a sentence today.

Ever yours, dear reader (not dropping the appellation. You know who you are)...

Now This is the Refining Process

This is a strange season in my life: one of deep and painful transformation. Sorry to use the exhausted butterfly metaphor, but right now, I am that vulnerable little bug trying to wriggle its way out of uncomfortable confines. Foundational, false beliefs. Old hurts. I was warned that it's no fun; now, you who warned me can say, "I told you so!" :)

I don't purport that this stage--which I believe all Christians undergo--always corresponds to marriage. For me, though, marriage has brought about several changes that have dredged up issues, ones I had put on the shelf to collect dust and forget.

Oddly enough, Chris's love for me has made me realize how unworthy of love and incapable of being loved I feel--not only by him, but by God. I feel despicable most of the time, and I do mean to use that strong of a word. You and I could pick apart my psyche all day, analyzing why I carry such a deep-rooted lie, but the bottom line is I need to know anew the implications of the gospel. Almost in anger, I'm going to throw off the words "should," "have to," "required to," and just say I need to know who God is and how He has loved and is loving me.

I am repelled by those words because I've been trying so hard for so long to earn love by doing things. I fail miserably and, consequently, feel miserable. I'm at the end of myself. I'm so sick and tired of feeling enslaved to the purported "obligations" of the Christian life, while God simply calls me to walk in the freedom of knowing Him and Christ and the power of His resurrection. Yes, I can't just stop working, since faith without works is dead. Trust me, I know, as I've used this as an excuse to be works-oriented for the last year and a half. I've spent that time viewing God as a reckoner, just waiting for me to make a mistake so He could shake His head at and punish me.

No more! God is love. I want to know it, taste it, live it! I may sound like a bad inspirational speaker right now, but truly, I want to know God in every fiber of my being. He's the only thing I can hope in. That's a pretty big deal.

If you think of Chris and me, please pray for us, as God files off some of my rough edges hopefully once and for all.

The Impossible Command

I'm currently reading C.S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters," a very salient glimpse into (and mockery of) the world of darkness, juxtaposed with the world of light.

I've been pondering love lately, and found a thought-provoking passage in the book which I thought I'd share with you. In letter 19, Screwtape, the self-sufficient undersecretary of the devil, writes to his nephew Wormwood about the impossible existence of Love:

The truth is I slipped by mere carelessness into saying that the Enemy [God] really loves the humans. That, of course, is a impossibility. He is one being, they are distinct from Him. Their good cannot be His. All His talk about Love must be a disguise for something else...Members of His faction have frequently admitted that if ever we came to understand what He means by love, the war would be over and we should re-enter Heaven. An there lies the great task. We know that He cannot really love: nobody can: it doesn't make sense. If we could only find out what He is really up to (Lewis, 100-101)!

Matthew 22:34-40 clearly commands us to love--first God, then others (as love for others will flow out of love for God; see 1 John 4:19-21). Screwtape is right insofar as love is impossible to fully understand as humans. 1 Corinthians 13:12 compares our knowledge of love to seeing "a poor reflection as in a mirror;" when we see God face to face, we shall know the extent of love. What a marvelous thought!

Until then, how do we follow a commandment to love when love is completely beyond us?

Seek God more. Know God more. God is love (see 1 John again!), and He is the only means of knowing what that lofty concept looks like!