If I tweet with the tongues of men or of angels
If I tweet with the skill of great men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
If I have tweet prophetically, with great nuggets of wisdom, or with faith that can move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing.
If my tweets raise tons of money, and I give all of it–and even myself over to hardship, that I may instagram it–but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Are my tweets patient, as love is?
Are my tweets kind, as love is?
Are my tweets full of envy for the followers, or RTs, or even possessions of others?
Are my tweets boastful?
Are my tweets proud?
Do my tweets dishonor others?
Are my tweets seeking more things, more followers, more money for myself?
Am I easily provoked to tweet angrily about others?
Are my tweets maintaining a history of wrongs, of scandals, of past responses?
Do my tweets delight in evil, or rejoice in the truth?
Do I protect others by my tweets (or refusal to tweet?)
Are my tweets always trusting, and asking/waiting for the other to clarify?
Are my tweets always hopeful that something better will happen?
Do my tweets endure and persevere?
Love never fails.
Facebook will cease, Twitter will be stilled, Google will pass away.
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part… but when completeness comes, the part disappears.
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
Now, these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.