It was a radio! With it, I could hear strange channels where people talked in sharp accents. I could hear normal music and music that made my eyes pop out. I was used to AM and FM, but this radio had settings for acronyms that I had never seen, and don’t even remember today.
It was amazing.
And so, of course, I took it apart. A set of screwdrivers and needle-nosed pliers were all I needed to turn that wondrous machine into a collection of exotic metal bits and colored wires. And it never made a sound again.
When we dissect things, we destroy them. Sure, we might learn some things. Of course, we might gain spare parts. But we ruin them. They aren’t the same, and never will be.
I feel the same way about love. I mean real love… not mamby-pamby Hallmark channel romance. I don’t mean warm puppies and chocolate ice cream. When I write here of love, I mean the unconditional kind that has its sole origins in God’s character, actions, and relationships.
Love is really astounding. When we find it (giving or getting) it shocks us. It changes us. It lifts us. It gives us reason. It gives us hope. It gives us faith. It gives us… well, everything. I don’t think I can overstate how fireworky and blissful love is.
Until we dissect it.
I don’t like talking about those supposed ‘three forms of love:’ eros, filos, and agape. Because love is always, in any form, the same: it is unconditional support, acceptance, and affection. It is a willingness, nay an eagerness to sacrifice for the beloved. It is an unquestioning placement of the beloved’s needs, wellness, and even wishes above one’s own.
If eros is a kind of love, than it is simply love. If filos is a kind of love, than just call it love. If agape is the best love, it does not supplant other loves. Love is love.
And love is grand.