Defining love.

I had a spaghetti day today. No, not a spaghetti eating day - just a spaghetti like day. Think: events flowing together, getting twisted, tangled and just kind of all-over-the-place. Like a big plate of spaghetti noodles...

By the late afternoon I just needed some time out. So, I stopped by Panera, grabbed a journal and a lovely little book that makes its home in the backseat pocket of my Box.

Upon settling in a booth, I decided to open to a random page of the book and read until I felt content. Surprisingly, this didn't even take a full cinco minutos. Because a few pages in, I stumbled upon this:

A French priest, conducting a retreat, said,

To love anyone is to hope is him always. From the moment at which we begin to judge anyone, to limit our confidence in him, from the moment at which we identify him, and so reduce him to that, we cease to love him, and he ceases to be able to become better. We must dare to love in a world that does not know how to love.

And slowly, the hideous-monster-of-a-Biology-test and family drama seemed to fade away...