Not Holding On to Hurt

"Thinketh no evil." This part of the famous love chapter is less celebrated, but it's one of the most practical. Holding on to hurt often walks arm in arm with thinking evil — with interpreting everything the other person does in the worst possible light.

When you're still hurt by someone, every one of their actions becomes proof of how bad they are. Silence becomes disregard. An innocent word becomes provocation. A way of acting becomes confirmation of what you already believed.

That's what hurt does to us: it warps the lens. And love, according to Paul, doesn't do that. Love doesn't lie in wait, watching for confirmation of what it's already decided to feel.

Holding on to hurt is exhausting. Constantly suspecting is exhausting. And deep down, you know this — because you've already felt the weight of carrying it inside you.

The love described here is rest: not keeping a file of evidence, not keeping judgment active, not feeding suspicion. It's entrusting what you can't control to God, and letting go.

That is freedom.