This poem was sent to me last year in an E-Mail and I saved it, but I do not know the author. In this time of year, these words ring true.
If I decorate my house perfectly with starfish, strands of twinkling lights and mercury glass balls, but do not show love to my family,
I am just another decorator.
If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies,
...preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another cook.
If I diligently create blog posts, visit and comment on all other blogs, and give all that I earn from blog giveaways to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.
If I trim the tree with baubles and burlap, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir’s cantata...
...but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.
Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn’t envy another’s home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.
Love doesn’t yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.
Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust...
...but giving the gift of love will endure.