Our Dwelling Place

When love becomes our dwelling place, there are moments when we realize that love is not simply something we give or receive. It is something we learn to live in.

As I reflected on the meditation I recently submitted to The Upper Room, I found myself looking beyond the words I had written and examining my own life. I began asking myself a simple but searching question: What happens when love becomes the place from which I live?

Over the years, I have learned that genuine love is not always dramatic. Sometimes it is found in quiet acts of patience, forgiveness, listening, encouragement, and choosing to remain kind when it would be easier to withdraw. Sometimes love is simply making room for another person to be human—to make mistakes, to struggle, to grow, and to begin again.

As a writer and follower of Christ, I have often written about grace, mercy, forgiveness, and the transforming love of God. Yet writing about love has also challenged me to practice what I write. It is possible to write beautiful words about love while still needing God to teach us how to love in the ordinary circumstances of life.

One lesson that continues to speak to me is the difference between responding to people from hurt and responding to them from love. When we are hurt, our first instinct may be to defend ourselves, explain ourselves, withdraw, or build walls around our hearts. But God has been teaching me that love does not deny the hurt; it simply refuses to allow the hurt to become our dwelling place.

That realization has changed the way I approach relationships and even the way I write. I am discovering that when love becomes our dwelling place, we begin to see people differently. We become slower to judge and quicker to listen. We become more willing to give others room to grow. We begin to remember that everyone is carrying a story we may not fully understand.

Love does not make every relationship easy. Sometimes love requires boundaries; sometimes it means waiting; sometimes it means letting go; sometimes it means praying for someone even when we cannot walk closely with them. Yet in every situation, we can choose to allow Christ to shape our response.

The words of 1 John 4:19 continue to speak deeply to me: “We love because he first loved us” (NIV). I cannot manufacture the kind of love God calls me to give. I must first remain in the love God has already given me. When I remember how patiently God has dealt with me, I find it easier to extend patience to others. When I remember God’s mercy toward me, I become more willing to offer mercy.

Perhaps this is what I am still learning: love is not merely a subject to write about. It is a place to live. And when love becomes our dwelling place, something beautiful begins to happen. God changes us from within. Our words become gentler, our hearts become more open, and our lives become opportunities for others to encounter the grace we have received.

I am still learning. I am still growing. But each day gives me another opportunity to choose love—to forgive, encourage, listen, serve, and reflect the heart of Christ.

When love becomes our dwelling place, we do not simply change the way we see others. We allow God to change the person we are becoming.

Perhaps that is one of the most beautiful journeys of faith: learning, day by day, to make our home in the love of God and allowing that love to flow through us into the lives of others.