Can I love you in progress? Can you love me even when I’m not in my final form? 

Love often begins with a singular, defining moment—a baseline from which every future expression of love is measured. It answers the call of the gap, the wound, the misstep. It shows up as an action that reassures heals, or redeems. But here’s the catch: we anchor every future moment to that first defining one, expecting to replicate its magic. 

I remember love. It’s like the first time I tasted the hush puppies at Peche in New Orleans—perfection so profound that it felt like they were made with Jesus’ tears. Every bite since carries the weight of that first moment, the expectation that it will deliver the same depth and awe. I return again and again, chasing that unforgettable taste because it gave me something I didn’t know I needed. 

But with Christ, it’s different. That first moment of His love? It’s unmatchable. The mercy, the grace—it wasn’t just a taste but a life-altering flood. And yet, we’re human. We crave repetition, longing to recreate what only He can make new. That’s why His mercies are renewed every morning. 

He captured us in a moment so divine that no imitation will ever suffice. While we may use the word “love,” most of us barely scratch its surface. True love is far beyond words—it’s an experience, an action, a relentless pursuit of the broken, the unfinished, and the in-progress.