Love suffers long. I heard a preacher on the radio last week, who shouted to a crowd about morality. With fear and anger in the words he chose to speak, and hate for those in homosexuality. His voice was anything but patient kind and meek, perhaps he feels that's not his personality. Love, Love, is never unkind, it's gentle and meek, and love does not seek it's own way, Love, will never remind or keep an account of the wrong.
Love suffers long.
I ride the subway with a man who lost a limb but wears a wooden leg as if he doesn't care. One day he told me how someone did this to him, but he's long since forgiven him in prayer. I said that I feel I've been amputated too. Somebody ripped my heart apart not long ago. Love suffers long.