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I’ve been the victim of some embarrassing autocorrects, that’s for sure. List has been changed to lust more than once, and How To lust is a lot different from a How To list.

The one that happens most, though, is the adjusting of love to live. And that change actually makes some sense.

Love is meant to be lived, you know. Love needs to breathe and to touch and to do things.

Lived out love is like exercise. Lived out love develops muscles and a good set of lungs, if you know what I mean. Coach potato love doesn’t do anyone any good.

Love is living when it stops and runs into a ditch by the railroad tracks to bring home the sweetest smelling flowers that grow on the prairie.

Love is living when it takes a whole day to bake cinnamon buns for the grandchildren, and a special batch with pecans for the son-in-law.

Love is living when it buys a set of tools for the one beginning his carpentry career.

Love is living when it takes the time to order euros from the bank for the grandson heading to Estonia in a few weeks.

Love is living when it sits and listens to the stories it’s already heard.

Love is living when it lets a kid do a job instead of stepping in and taking over.

Love is living when it insists on holding the crying baby so the mom can eat her lunch.

Love is living when it steps up, holds on, stays late, shares a load.

It’s nice to say I love you. It’s even nicer to live it.

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