Love, so the saying goes, is a many splendored thing.
It’s brilliant. I know of nothing else that can simultaneously make you feel like you’re being repeatedly kicked in the stomach, steal your sleep and your appetite, and make you trip over, gaze out the window and generally behave like someone who needs professional help.
It’s a ridiculous emotion, mainly because all the time we’re reduced to a mass of quivering jelly, we’re busy thinking just how jolly lucky we are to feel this way.
Thankfully for the emergency services, employers and our friends, that state doesn’t last forever. Eventually it all settles down into something much, much deeper that doesn’t block rational thought.
Now before you start to get worried that I’m going to go all Love Actually, or start quoting vast swathes of Shakespeare, I should point out a fact here.
I’m divorced. So really I should have a band of steel around my heart that stops any over-sentimental claptrap from creeping in.
But somehow it doesn’t.
Because I still think love is a beautiful thing, when it’s done right.
It might last a fortnight, it might last a lifetime. Either way, it’s fantastic.
So when I read about the church and the government squabbling over whether gay people should be allowed to wed, my heart sinks.
Opponents says it will ruin the church, and shouldn’t be allowed.
Presumably they feel that way because they point out that the Bible says being gay is wrong.
Well, the Bible also said wearing two different fabrics together was wrong and I for one haven’t been smote yet.
It think it’s about time the church caught up with the modern world and realised something. Because love is love is love.
Love doesn’t care if you’re black, white, rich, poor, tall, short, thin or fat. It really doesn’t.
So let gay couples marry, celebrate their love and praise it to the heavens.
For love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.