You’re not evil, Ted. You’re human.
Ted, you know of course that love isn’t primarily about feelings, but it’s nice if it does involve feelings.
Genuine love is about choices.
Jesus give the best indication of love choices in Matthew 25 verses 31-46.
He assures us that He judges us by our practical acts of kindness, (which can be as small as a reassuring smile, or a kind word when we feel tired or irritated.)
I know what you men though, and once put it into words that you might find recognizable in yourself
Curtains of imperfection
Our God, it seems that all within me is a maze of curtains against the pure light of Your love. Those curtains, drawn aside, reveal drapes of faults in the dimness. These drapes too, when parted, allow illumination of other veils that were obscured in the darkness…And thus again, until wisps of curtained uncharity and unbelief are glimpsed everywhere within, only brushed aside temporarily in moments of grace to allow Your light to penetrate the deepest recesses of my being.
I discover that nowhere in my life is uncurtained to the light of Your pure love and truth. Even where I hope to find goodness is found veils of subtle sinfulness.
Finally, rejecting the despair of Judas I turn to You with repentant Peter, in sadness mingled with trust. I humbly ask that You will bless my continuing struggle and prayer in the white fire of divine love that blazes sin to nothing and purifies the soul.
I ask pardon of You whom I do not yet truly love, and forgiveness of anyone I love poorly. Merciful Lord please give recompense to others and Yourself for my sins and faults, and grant all that Your perfect love can give.
The Cross of my life
Jesus, my cross is sorrow for others in their anxieties and afflictions, and in the limited help and comfort that I can give them. The nails are my mistakes and inadequacies that distress or fail others. No sooner do I inhale the breath of Your grace for others than it fouls with my failings. I must again drag up on my nailed wrists and push up upon my transfixed feet, in order to exhale the vapor of lukewarmness and sinfulness—so once again to draw in Your grace.
The faults that characterize much of my life, scourge my soul until it is bruised and faint, sapping my hope and faith. Acts devoid of generous love lash into the wholeness of Your image in me. I am sick with hunger, for I accept too little food of loving, sharing and serving in each moment of Your offering. My hunger is the more intense because others may suffer deprivation for my omissions and sinfulness.
A crown of idle thoughts, and words, of prayer neglected, of reparation postponed, of temptation undefeated, binds up my head with wounds. My inconstancy and unlove are my nakedness. The taunts are my lack of witness of Christ. My every nerve is pain, and it pours from my body in stinging sweat of regret. My lack of love makes my soul a living wound—at times benumbed, or raw with returning consciousness.
Repeatedly I seek to escape this crucifixion, but I remain nailed to my weakness, fighting for hope and trust.
“Why do You abandon me, Lord?” Yet not You! Why do You allow me repeatedly to abandon You, in this lingering death of my faults and negligence! Yet, Jesus, because of Your mercy I affirm faith in Your love that brings marvelous blessing out of wretchedness, failure and sin. I cannot transform or resurrect myself, Jesus, but I offer You all that constitutes me, humbly asking that You will do what I cannot.
I give my self, crucified in its egoism and materialism, its pride and disobedience, its unbelief, unlove and ingratitude. Offer it to the Father with Your own crucifixion, so that in You I die to all these imperfections and rise again with You forever in the love and life of the Holy Spirit. Your mercy thereby draws many souls after me.
Thank You, Jesus for this resurrection that You share with us.