My Blog

Whenever I see a chain-link fence, I am reminded of my mother’s love and how it would somehow reach out — without fail — and sustain me, wherever I may be.

During my clerkship year in medicine, we had to serve at a private hospital, which happened to be near where my mother works. Now this hospital had earned a reputation then of being toxic, due to a certain ill-tempered senior resident, and most clerks dread the month of service there.

I had the ill luck of serving just when my girlfriend and I broke up. I was a terrible mess. What had been a bad situation had just turned horrible. To this day, I associate that hospital with hell.

Except the fence. You see, whenever I needed provisions or a change of clothes, my mother would come to the rescue, without fail. You might think that an adult son would have gotten used to this, but the hardship and tears at the hospital put my mother’s care in stark contrast. Because I was in such a hurry all the time, I had to stay by the fence separating our hospital from her office and wait for her. She doesn’t take long. She would give me the package and words of encouragement. “Sige lang, konting tiis na lang!” Such simple words, such a simple thing, but it sustained me. Even to this time.

I would say my thanks, and walk back to the hospital, always turning back to look at her. She would still be standing there, looking at me (perhaps she was making sure that I wouldn’t escape from duty).

Even to this time,  whenever I look through chain-link fences, I see my mother’s love, and how it gets through any barriers without fail.

     She was among the one who loved me unconditionally the first time she saw me. That was when I burped often, was incontinent, and cried a lot. What do you expect, I was less than a week old!

     Aunty Stella. She was a second mother to me. She doted on me and spoiled me like any good aunt should. But then, we left Davao for Cagayan de Oro. My first memories of Samal Island would always have her there, smiling at me.  

     She never married. She was smart and beautiful (my mother’s side had more than their fair share of beauties), but I could not figure out why she never started a family.

     So, when she got news that she was struck with cervical cancer, a disease that is more prevalent among those who never had children, she was hit with regret. It was my nephew’s birthday party, and there were a lot of kids running around having the time of their lives, yelling and laughing and eating cake and ice cream and throwing balloons at each other.  It was a happy occasion, but one thought entered her mind: “sayang…”

     It broke my heart when she told me that she cried afterwards.

     I feared for her health, but she reassured me that she had already come to terms with her disease. God wouldn’t give her a burden that she cannot carry, and when things get too tough for her, there’s always God. She told me those things with a smile, and with eyes that were full of peace.

     I hugged her and held her hand then.  I saw what faith had done to her. No other form of therapy could’ve done what faith did for her.

     Sailors of old used stars to find their way in the dark sea. She had been given the right name: in this darkness now, before the stark truth of mortality, she had shown me the way. She is my star.

It’s 3 AM. I’ve been paged to the ER. I try to stay awake and head there, wondering what ails the poor soul who’s come to the hospital. I’m tired, cranky, hungry, and wondering for the nth time why I chose to become a doctor.

And I am afraid. I might not know what to do. What if it’s an emergency case, and I only have a little time to figure things out? I feel like an impostor, me with the white coat and the stethoscope, head crammed with medical jargon and a million worries. What if I made a mistake? What if I miss something and I send the patient home and he gets worse there and comes back tomorrow feeling even more ill than before? What if I did the wrong thing?

We had one patient who didn’t want to get a tetanus injection. I stressed to the mother that her child will die should she get tetanus, as there’s no cure for it. BEEEEP! The ER resident called me aside and castigated me for what I’ve just said. She then told me to read up. It was humiliating! I was wrong about what I’ve said, of course. I went back to my books, the facts branded into my brain, etched deep by the sheer heat of my shame.

It made me think about the heavy burden of responsibility, and made me question whether I am ready for it. Whenever I hear the PA system call for Dr Baula, I cringe a little. There are times when I feel that I am not worthy of the title. But I guess most of us feel that way.

I arrive at the ER. It’s a 4 year old child with a cough, a fever, and a very worried mother. After doing an exam I call my resident and tell her what I think. I felt gratified when she agrees with my diagnosis and my plan. We go back to the patient, prescribe the medications, and reassure the mother that her daughter is going to be ok.

And, as they take their leave, the daughter looks at me, smiles a wan little smile through her tears (she was so afraid that we were going to give her an injection earlier), and waves goodbye. The mother lets out a laugh of relief. We are all smiles once again.

And, on times such as these, I remember why I want to be a doctor.

     I didn’t expect this.

     I was contented. I was beginning to flourish in a new place, a new job was keeping me occupied, and I was making new friends. I had a sweet girlfriend waiting back at home, and was reunited with long-lost cousins and favorite aunts.

     I did not lack for anything. Or so I thought.

     I remember the morning that she came. She strode into the E.R., swaggered in so unfemininely, caring not how she appeared. It was the day after my first duty, and I was very tired and very apprehensive about the upcoming endorsement, so I just gave a cursory glance at her.

     It was at that very moment that she smiled.

     She was not even smiling at me, and yet I was thunderstruck! It was such a sweet, sweet smile, an image of beauty that leaves an indelible memory, to be savored over and over and over. I knew that I was smitten, and smitten bad.

     I cringe over the thought that, yes, I had fallen again as if for the first time. This is my second first love. I had done crazy things in the past, but what I had done for this is unbelievable, even to me.

     But this is not about what I did for her. This post is about what she did to me.

     Once, I had my heart broken by a person whom I trusted with my all. I truly believed that I could never be in love with anyone else the same way, as I had become wary of love. I thought that I could not stand the risk, the vulnerability of being so open to another person. I was scarred to the point of numbness, so that I could no longer feel the pain. I would never love another the same way again, I thought.

     What do you know? Just when you think that you’ve got life all figured out, it throws a curve ball at you. Of course I was wrong about loving, and I am glad I was!

          She had proven me wrong. And she did it by just being herself. She did not give me anything, but she gave me back everything.  I have known her so much more since our first meeting, and I find myself falling in love more and more each day. And, before I knew it, the scars in my heart were gone. It was whole again, ready to be given again, renewed by a miracle that is she.

     I do not know what the future holds. There are naysayers (and they are a lot) who told me I’m in for another hurt. A few (and they are my true friends) said I was crazy. Only one said that, as long as I’m sure of what my heart has told me, then go ahead. He gave one caveat, though: proceed with extreme caution.

     I fell in love before, and I gave my all. When it ended, I thought that I wasn’t capable of giving what I was able to give before. That was before I met her and was renewed by her. I fell in love as if for the first time. She is my second first love. She is my only love.

The things I’ve learned this year:

1. Today is always better than yesterday

2. Sometimes, kicking someone to the midsection is good therapy (to the kicker)

3. Love is worth the pain (as long as you are not paying for it)

4. It is sometimes good NOT to react (thanks for this one, Wawa)

5. Moving on requires a first step and a destination

6. Life goes on

7. It takes darkness for one to see stars (you might also try a hammer on your head)

8. The darker the night, the brighter the stars, the blacker the hole in the ground

9.  A good mood is great medicine

10. The poison is in the dosage

11. Hugs from family and friends can cure a lot of sorrows

     I’m standing on the rubber mat again. My opponent glares at me from across the floor. He is not intimidated by this scraggly guy with thinning hair who had come into the match late. The crowd screams. They yell encouragement at him. It is his crowd. My friends are back at the hospital, working, while I am here, in pursuit of a dream. How I wished that they were here with me. I take one last look at my sensei, who was shocked to see me compete, and he raises his fist in encouragement. Drawing one deep breath, I clear my mind, bow to my opponent, and step forward to fight.

     We are fighting for the gold medal. I hadn’t realized it at the time. I wasn’t keeping track of things. This is how I was lately. My soul, weary and stale from the daily, endless grind of mindless tasks at the hospital, seemed only to exist and not to live. But here, I felt it stir, quicken, and sharpen. It was focused on one thing only: give my all.

     I attack. My opponent is much younger and faster, and he counters with a strike of his own. Then, things blurred. Nothing seemed to exist, except for me, my opponent, and the reality of fists and feet. I just remembered giving blows and receiving strikes. Wham! I got one on my jaw, and another one on the head. It would hurt later, but, at that moment, it registered merely as a failure to block, and as one point for my opponent.

     Two minutes pass. Two minutes of fury and yells and blood. bloodied his mouth, but he gains three more points over me. I knew I had nothing more in me. I was panting and coughing. I was kicking air. I was blocking with my nose instead of my arms. I remember a line from the movie "Kung Pao", when Wimpy Lo said: "Face to foot style, how do you like it?". It really seemed hilarious, but, that moment, it was anything but, especially when it was turning out Wimpy Lo was me.

     But it didn’t matter. Winning didn’t even matter. At that moment, battered and hurt, I was transformed. All I wanted to do at that moment was to give my all, and I did. I kept coming back for more. Yes, I was clobbered, time and again, but I didn’t fall. I lost, but I lost still fighting, and I made him bleed for his gold. Hurting my opponent didn’t even matter later. I was doing what I had wanted to do for the longest time, living a childhood dream.

     I realized that one, when he fights, always fights alone. There may be a crowd of supporters behind you. There may be shouts of encouragement for you. But, there, in that square rubber mat, where the philosophy of martial arts give way to the realities of fists and hurts, you fight for yourself. Even more so, you fight yourself. The opponent is not the other guy, it is that quaking, shivering, tiny existence inside of you saying "You Can’t Do It!!!". It may be that he is the most powerful enemy of all, the one who can defeat you even before the fight has started.

     That day, I was fighting alone. My opponent may have won the gold, but I have won a victory over myself.

     It was like a punch to the midsection, thrown by the one whom you trust the most, and delivered full strength. It left me on the ground, so much in pain that it even hurts to cry in pain. Once, as a kid, I fell from a tree and had the wind knocked out of me. I writhed and rolled in the dust, trying to just breathe, unable to even call for help. My friends and siblings didn’t know what to do (they did know how to laugh at my face). I felt like a kid again, only in the worst possible way.

     She told me she wanted to break up at the worst time possible, at the time when I needed her the most. This near-perfect relationship coming to an end? It was the last thing that I thought would happen.

     It hurt like a tooth extraction without any anesthetic, and with the dentist stepping on your foot, the one with an infected ingrown toenail. Oh, and did I mention the dentist was  400 pounds and was wearing clogs?

      To her credit, she did try to soften the blow somewhat. Bless her heart, she gave me the truth in the gentlest way that she could. No rancor, no malice, no intent to hurt. Just the bitterest truth, but given by gentle hands.

     It was still bitter, nevertheless. Pweh! It really hurt because (and my father warned me about this) I really gave my all for her. And when she was gone, I had nothing left. Or so I thought, had it not been for the wisdom of a caring family and of friends.

     So, how do I even start to heal? I’ve learned a lot about this.

     I guess it’s really important to cry and rage. Grief suppressed would only fester, as would anger or hate.  These I had in full measure, to overflowing. It had to go out. I rarely cry, thinking it to be a sign of weakness. I really held back (ok, so I did manage NOT to cry for 4 hours) for as long as I could, but who was I kidding? It hurt! So, I cried like a baby. Had I seen myself, I’d double up in laughter, what with my face all crumpled up like a sheet of scratch paper. Unfortunately, the only person to have the pleasure of seeing me like that was the guard on night duty, roving the grounds behind Maria Reyna Hospital. There I was, leaking like a broken fountain, watering the grass with my tears, going "Why!?? Why?!!" with all the drama I could muster, not noticing Manong Tsip with his flashlight focused on my face. Ugh! Best actor in an amards-comedy role. I didn’t need any encouragement to vacate the premises.

     But this grief, this rage, this sense of being wronged, it was slowly poisoning me. Which led me to another thing that I learned was important.

     I had to let go and forgive. I had to forgive her for hurting me and leaving me. It took me a month. It had to take for my pain to become really a literal pain in my sternum. It burned like acid and made me bitter. It took away any pleasure that could have made my soul thrive, and made me shrivel away. Forgiving her, the one who hurt me to the deepest of depths, the only one who could do so, was important: it allowed me to see beyond myself and to cease focusing on my hurts. It killed the pain. It didn’t happen in an instant, but it was a start. I started to live again.

     Then, I started to pray. Maybe this break-up had to happen because I wasn’t as close to God as I used to be, and this is His way of drawing me nearer. Or maybe perhaps  I’d never know in this lifetime. What I do know now is that knowing there’s Someone always in control of my life gave me a measure of peace unattainable by any other way. Oh, I did rage and cry and wept and blamed Him at times for this mess, but, eventually, I accepted that He knows best and is always in control.

     Then, I began to see that I wasn’t the only one hurting. She was hurting, too, especially since the class gave her the blame. She precious few friends to support her, too little to hug her, almost no one to comfort her. She, too, turned to God for strength, but it was really more difficult for her than it was for me. Realizing this helped me see that the roles we have isn’t as clear cut as having a victim and victimizer. I saw that she didn’t intend to hurt me. She had to go because she was no longer happy, and going on with this relationship would have been unfair to me. Seeing that helped me feel again, and made my heart, hardened out of necessity, able to care again.

     It sure hurt like hell, and I wouldn’t want to go through this again. How I wish that a large part of my pain could be put in a box and left at another man’s doorstep. I still have times when I feel like punching somebody’s face in, or collapse and cry, or just plain sleep and sleep and wake up late. But, why be afraid to live? I want to suck life to the very marrow, to live, because, who knows whether I’d still be here tomorrow? I’d rather feel and be alive, than feel nothing and be dead. So, what I did was make the decision to be happy again, to focus on what I still have (like, for example, hair), to live. And to write this.

     Because I want to be healed.

     Running is tiring. And I feel as if I’ve run so far that I don’t even remember from where I started running. I still am running. I have to: the end is not yet in sight.

     It is a tiring litany to the unlucky audience of medical students: I’m so tired; kanus-a pa man ni mahuman; it’s so difficult. Even I am tired of saying that I’m tired. I’m so tired of being tired.

     Basta

     Who would have thought that a Blue Magic frog would have to learn Tagalog? Who would have thought that he would travel by airplane, ride the MRT, go to Rizal province, roam the underbelly of Quiapo? But this frog did! Booh Kaeru, the bakasyonista frog!

     Well, first things first: about me. You already know that I’m a stuffed toy, a proud Blue Magic creation. A very beautiful girl saw me doing my cute big eye thing when she passed by the shop window and brought me home.

     My master and I had already been through a lot (and I even had a close encounter with Timoy, her dog, which is something that I don’t care to recount right now), when she decided that I needed an alter ego. Apparently, this guy, whom my master calls "Uling", and I share the same hand structure (both of us disagreed vehemently), the same hop (that, we kinda think is true…), the same cute factor (that one we still argue over). Whatever the reason, I got to go with this guy with the shiny head and goofy grin. I think it was for his own protection: I’ve got a white belt in karate. Poor guy couldn’t seem to stand up to my master. She scratches and punches him most of the time. Poor guy, but maybe he deserves it. Wonder why he gets this tough-sounding nickname, "Bullets", when he looks like a wimp to me. Maybe, Uling is quite tough, but it’s just that my master is really powerful and tougher. Go, master!

     Now, this guy apparently have something going for him, for the school sent him to this week-long seminar in Morong, Rizal, all expenses paid. Of course, I got to come along. This guy needed protection from all those Tagalog bullies, I thought.

     It was my first airplane ride, and was I excited! My alter ego, Uling, however, did not seem too excited. It wasn’t his first, and he wasn’t looking forward to the airline food (it was a disapointment: they didn’t serve flies). It was my first time to see land from 5,000 feet up (I couldn’t hop that high). I saw Taal lake and Taal volcano. It was so nice.

     We went to UP Manila, via PGH, got lost for a while (we just came from Cavite, straight from the airport, to visit Uling’s relatives), then managed to find our group. PGH is a very big place! Saw a lot of sick people. Uling, too, looked like he could use some tender loving care that time. He was so lovelorn, it was sickening to see! He needed the love doctor! Heheheh, I like to tease him all the time.

     The bus ride to Rizal was exhausting. Uling hadn’t made any friends yet, so he just slept during the entire trip.

     Then, we got to the venue. Silungan. Even its name sounded so comforting and beautiful. It was great! We got there around 7 P.M., but it only showcased Silungan’s beautiful features. They have garden lights! The place had a Balinese charm about it, full of open spaces and trees and airy structures.

     For Uling, it was work. What made it really nice was that he brought me along wherever he went. Literally! I got to see the entire place! And he took a lot of pictures! Eventually, people went to ask about me. Apparently, they were charmed by Uling’s explanantion that I was from his beloved princess, and that my master sent me with him to protect him. Yeah, I’m for his protection! See the belt around my waist? It’s a karate belt. Yaaaaah!

     But there were no bullies around. The people were so nice! They were so cool. I even met some friends there, Sunshine Care Bear and Chok-Chok, who were also protecting their masters. I even got photographed by Uling’s new friend, who wanted my cute brown eyes to grace her cellphone’s wallpaper. My belt also sparked conversations from two guys who were also into karate. Met one who practices Okinawan style, and another who is also into Shotokan and judo.

     By the end of the 5 days, I had starred in no less than two production numbers (I acted as a baby in both presentations), innumerable photographs, encoded a bit (couldn’t type real fast with my 8 fingers), and made a lot of friends, both for myself and my ward. When we got off the bus, we got a busload of farewells. It was so touching! My friends all reached out to give me one last pat. It’s enough to make a Blue Magic frog want to cry.

     About my Quiapo escapade? Hey, I now know where to buy med textbooks, really cheap. Pirated! And a lot cheaper! They are all over C.M. Recto avenue. My friends from MSU-IIT took us along, and we had an eye-opening trip on the other side of Manila. All kinds of books! Well, almost all kinds. Uling had wanted to buy "Libertine’s Destiny" for my master, but they did not have it. Never heard of it.

     We slept at the Boy Scout of the Philippines building. We saw the painting of the troop of scouts that died in a plane crash a long time ago. It was sad, such young kids. We then tried to go to their museum, but it wasn’t open. Apparently, not everyone in the BSP is "laging handa".

     Uling and I met a new friend at SM-Ermita. He’s Bruce Bear, and he’s coming with me to Davao. He is master’s new protector, like me. I really like him, and it looks like we are going to be friends for life. I am hoping that my master would like him.

     On our last day in Manila, we slept at the airport. Apparently, Uling is saving like mad. For what? I dunno. I guess it was because he bought my master a book, something that he thinks she will like very much. Or maybe he’s just soooo kuripot when he has to. He’s usually so maluho with his money.

     Saw Cagayan de Oro from above. Uling took some pictures (I think it was a violation of regulations, but who cares?) and, as the plane touched down, he smiled. I know what he’s thinking, and I know why he was smiling: "I’m now nearer to my princess".

     I also had to smile. That was my thought, too.

SEVEN SCRIPTURES For SEVEN THINGS THAT SLAVES ABSOLUTELY NEED DURING HELL WEEK

(King James Version)

I. FRIENDSHIP

1. A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity (Proverbs 17.17; oy! Nay number 7!)

2. Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend (Proverbs 27:17; hey, ikaduha na pud!)

3. Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)

4. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you (John 15:13-14)

5. Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you (John 15:15)

6. I thank my God upon every remembrance of you (Philemon 1:3)

7. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin (1 John 1:7; and finally, another number 7)

II. TRUST

1. Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed (Psalm 37:3)

2. It is better to trust in the lord than to put confidence in man. It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes (Psalm 118:8-9)

3. But mine eyes are unto thee, O God the Lord: in thee is my trust; leave not my soul destitute (Psalm 141:8)

4. He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool: but whose walketh wisely, he shall be delivered (Proverbs 28:26)

5. Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation (Isaiah 12:2)

6. But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead (2 Corinthians 1:9)

7. For therefore we both labour and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Saviour of all men, specially of those that believe (Timothy 4:10)

III. PATIENCE

1. Better is the end of a a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit (Ecclesiastes 7:8)

2. In your patience possess ye your souls (Luke 21:19)

3. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing (James 1:4)

4. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass (Psalm 37:7)

5. I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry (Psalm 40:1; Psalm 130:6)

6. Be patient therefore, brethren unto the coming of the Lord. Behold,the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain (James 5:7, 2 Peter 1:6)

7. For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise (Hebrews 10:36)

IV. HUMILITY

1. Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud (Proverbs 16:19)

2. By humility and the fear of the Lord are riches and honour, and life. (Proverbs 22:4)

3. A man’s pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit (Proverbs 29:23)

4. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:4; Luke 18:14)

5. He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? (Micah 6:8)

6. But when thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest room; that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher: then shalth thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee (Luke 14:10)

7. Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, andbe clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud,and giveth grace to the humble (1 Peter 5:5)

V. SACRIFICES

1. And Samuel said,Hath the Lord as gret delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams (1 Samuel 15:22; Psalm 40:6)

2. For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise (Psalm 51:16-17)

3. For I desired mercy, and not sacrifice; and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings (Hosea 6:6)

4. But go ye and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance (Matthew 9:13)

5. And let them sacrifice the sacrifices f thanksgiving, and declare his works with rejoicing (Psalm 107:22)

6. And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness (Malachi 3:3)

7. Which was a figure for the time then present, in which were offered both gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did the service perfect, as pertaining to the conscience (Hebrews 9:9)

VI. PERSEVERANCE

1. Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer (Romans 12:12)

2. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass (Psalm 37:7)

3. How long wilth thou forget me, O Lord? For ever? How long wilth thou hide thy face from me? (Psalm 13:1)

4. The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9)

5. My brethren, count it alljoy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience (James 1:2)

6. And I willbring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they hear them: I will say, It is my people; and they shall say, the Lord is my God (Zechariah 13:9)

7. And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not (Galatians 6:9)

VII. LOVE

1. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might (Deuteronomy 6:5)

2. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself (Matthew 22:39)

3. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another (John 13:35)

4. This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you (John 15:12)

5. Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good (Romans 12:9; Romans 13:9)

6. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith (Galatians 5:22)

7. And above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfectness (Colossians 3:14; 1 Timothy 6:1)