Learning to love without understanding.

As you read through my blog, you’re going to notice a phrase that shows up often: “I love you, but God loves you more.” If that phrase catches your attention, I understand. The word love gets used so easily these days, sometimes casually, sometimes without much weight behind it. Over time, I’ve come to hold that word more carefully, not as something to toss around lightly, but as something that carries depth, responsibility, and intention.

During my quiet moments as a stay-at-home dad, I’ve had time to dig deeper into the meaning of love beyond the grade-school definitions we were taught. Because understanding what something truly means gives you a better sense of how to use it.

I won’t list all the different types of love, but I do want to highlight one that might be familiar to some and brand new to others: agape.

There are many ways to translate it, but the meaning I’ve carried is this:

I don’t have to fully grasp you before I choose love.

Lately, I’ve found myself coming back to this simple practice:

Loving people where they are.

I’ve found deeper connection with people when I stop trying to figure them out. When I quit analyzing their choices, their lifestyles, or their “why,” and I simply love them where they are. Because the truth is…we don’t know as much as we think we do about anyone. We all have wounds. We are all guarded in some way.

The more I’ve practiced this, the more I’ve noticed that my inside and outside are beginning to match, both softening in the same direction. We all have this deep desire to be understood, and yet we often try to understand others through a filter shaped by assumptions. A filter with limited visibility, clouded by conclusions that aren’t always accurate. That’s why agape is so transformative, because it bypasses that filter entirely.

Mark 12:31 says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

What are you doing to love on yourself? I have often found myself seeking love from others without first loving on me. I’ve spent a lot of time practicing loving myself, and it has made loving others easier. Notice I said easier, because it’s still hard. There’s a deep longing in all of us to be seen, heard, and understood…to be loved without feeling like we have to explain ourselves into belonging.

There is a song by CAIN that says,

Later in the song it says,

Hey, I know that sounded a little floral, and love isn’t always soft or simple. I know the world has teeth, but I’ve chosen not to show mine. I’ve chosen to lead with love. No matter how I’m treated, what is said about me, or how misunderstood I may be, I’m loving because I recognize how He loves me even in the parts of me still being worked on. (1 John 4:19).

Another question I’ve been sitting with is this:

Why can loving others feel hard at times?

So why is it so hard to give something that is so innately woven into us?

I think it’s because we’re all on completely different journeys.

Some healing.

Some hurting.

Some joyful.

Some discouraged.

Some hopeful.

Some hopeless.

Some free.

Some imprisoned.

When we’re in the middle of our own journey, our own pain can feel like the most important thing in the world. But here’s what I keep coming back to:

We all hold the cure: love. (1 Peter 4:8)

I’m not here to hand you answers. I’m simply offering a pause, a moment to look inward, to consider how you’re loving, how you’re growing, and how encouragement might take shape in the everyday spaces of your life.

Look around…we’re all in this together.

It’s not always pretty.

It’s not always easy.

But it can always, always be redeemed with love.

So if anything, let this be a gentle step forward, rooted in the things God planted in us all: love, compassion, and courage, lived out together in the moments and relationships that shape who we’re becoming.

I love you, but God loves you more.

In courage,

Carnell