Don’t Feel Bad...
“Love one another, as I have loved you.”
That’s what He said—clearly, tenderly, without footnotes.
But somewhere along the way, we added our own clauses:
Love one another… if they treat you right.
Love one another… if they never disappoint you.
Love one another… if they can afford to return the favor.
We turned divine love into a barter system.
When did love become a transaction?
We were taught that love is patient, kind, not self-seeking. That it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. But look around—or look within—and you’ll find something has shifted.
Love today comes with disclaimers, with emotional fine print.
And maybe I wouldn’t have noticed it so sharply—until it happened to me. A small gesture, a heartfelt gift, given without expectation. But the response? “I’ll pay you for this.” Just like that, something sacred felt reduced to a receipt. The moment lost its warmth. Not because they meant harm, but because somewhere along the way, even love became something we feel the need to settle.
Is this how we love now?
When did trust take a backseat to terms and conditions?
When did relationships begin measuring worth in currency instead of care?
Jesus loved with no safety net. He broke bread with the betrayer. He healed those who wouldn’t say thank you. He laid down His life for the ones still unsure of His name. That’s the kind of love He asked us to mirror—not the curated, cautious, cost-counting kind we’ve become so comfortable with.
We’ve made love conditional. Measurable. Marketable.
But divine love doesn’t come with a price tag. It comes with a cross.
And here’s the uncomfortable truth:
If the love I give depends on what I get, maybe it’s not love—it’s a transaction.
Let’s be bold enough to love in a way that makes no sense to the world.
Let’s be brave enough to love without expecting repayment.
Because love was never meant to be a contract.
It was always a covenant.