“I Say This With Love” — But Do You?

Here’s a phrase I’ve grown weary of hearing:

“I say this with love…”

It usually preludes a wound, a sermon disguised as judgemental concern, a dagger dipped in sugar. But love is not an alibi for cruelty. Love is not a permission slip to preach at the wounded while they bleed. Real love is action. It moves quietly, without needing applause or disclaimers.

Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:4–8: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Paul’s words cut deeper than any modern slogan. He doesn’t say, “Love tells it like it is.” He says, “Love endures.” He doesn’t say, “Love calls them out.” He says, “Love is kind.” He doesn’t say, “Love has boundaries for the undeserving.” He says, “Love never fails.” If we must announce our love before speaking, perhaps it’s not love speaking at all, but pride dressed in holy robes.

Christ did not say, “I love you, but…” He didn’t begin His passion with a lecture or a warning. He began it with silence, sweat, and blood. He loved not with words, but with wounds. He washed the feet of traitors. He forgave from the cross. He carried the weight of sin with no applause, no crowd chanting His name, only thorns, nails, and mockery. That is love: unpretentious, unannounced, unrelenting.

To love someone is to surrender them over to Christ. I’ve had to do this with some of the closest souls to me. No one ever wants to stop speaking to a parent, or let distance grow with a friend of eighteen years. But I had to. And in that surrender, I learned what love really is. It’s not control. It’s not convincing. It’s handing them to the mercy of God, and trusting that His hands are gentler than mine.

Though it felt like a dagger through my heart, Our Lady of Sorrows comforted me, for she too loved, let go and trusted God. She watched her Son suffer, unable to save Him, yet she believed still. One night, while praying for my loved one, the words came softly, almost trembling through tears: “Okay, Jesus… I surrender. May he find his way to You. May Your love shine brightly upon him.” In that moment, I realized I was helpless. No matter how much truth I spoke, he would not hear me until the Lord opened his heart Himself.

So my prayer became my surrender: that Christ’s light would find him and lead him to the Sacred Heart, not through my striving, but through grace. That is love: to let go, not in bitterness, but in hope. To trust that the One who loves them most will do what I cannot.

Love doesn’t need to announce itself.

It’s recognized by the fruit it bears: patience, mercy, humility, perseverance.

So let’s stop saying, “I say this with love.” Let’s be love, in silence, in prayers, in suffering, in truth, and in the relentless grind of daily grace.

Because love never preaches from a pedestal.

Love kneels.

Love listens.

Love bleeds.

Love hung on the cross for you.

Love took the nails without defense.

Love bore the mockery without retaliation.

Love forgave in the midst of agony.

Love gave everything and asked for nothing in return but your heart.

And sometimes, love means letting go, placing another soul at the foot of the Cross and quietly saying, "Jesus, You love them more than I ever could." No human love, no matter how sincere or strong, can surpass the love God has for us.

What I cannot fix, Jesus can redeem. What I cannot carry, He already bore. So I entrust you to the One who created you, who knows every corner of your heart, and who gave His life to bring you peace. There is no safer place than in the hands of the Savior.

Who better to care for your soul than Love Himself?

Justine Wisdom | Made For Battle

Our Lady of Sorrows Surrender Prayer

"O Mother of Sorrows, I kneel before you today, burdened with the weight of my own cross. You who stood at the foot of the Cross with unwavering faith, teach me to accept the sufferings of my life with trust and love. I surrender to you all my pain, my doubts, my fears, and my struggles. I place them into your Immaculate Heart, united with the wounds of your Son, Jesus. Intercede for me, O Sorrowful Mother,that I may have the courage to say “yes” to God's will, even when I do not understand. Help me to surrender completely, knowing that in your sorrows, you became our hope. May your example teach me to trust the Sacred Heart of Jesus in all things and at all times. Amen."