Love is a Doing Word

I was listening to an album before, and the words I heard were “let love be the compass.”
I do like that and had never thought of it that way before.  The love I am into is the love that gives with thoughts for the needs of the recipient.  Self-love matters, and I must have it to exhibit love for others.  I am big on if I do not have something to give myself, I cannot give to others.
But loving is not just about me, but about another.  My walk may be about me being answerable for my decisions, but that includes the decisions I make concerning my dealings with others.
It is easy to do nothing.  Doing something involves effort and considering more than me.  I have a friend who I really felt to visit to see how he and his wife were doing.  I resisted and then finally did it.  It turned out his wife was in hospital.  She went in around the time I first thought to visit.
She is back home now, and I have visited them both.  He said to me the last time I visited I was the visitor in 9 of 10 cases.
So often all is not as it seems.  It looks like he would have a lot of friends.  He is personable ad when I have seen him in public places there are many that acknowledge him.  But as is so often the case, there are many acquaintances but few friends, 
To me friends are there in good times and bad.  It is not only about what they get, but what they can give.  That criteria seems to weed out many and few remain.  I know I do not always get it right, but as my motto suggests I want to do for others what I would like them to do for me. 
I am not so naive that I think it happens all the time.  Or to even think that it happens a lot.  But it does happen.  When my faith in humanity is at its lowest, so often it is restored.
There are times I do not feel like giving.  Times I would rather be alone.  At times that is right for me, but sometimes it is just an excuse for inaction.
What I really like is to make people feel important.  People that may be passed by or not considered.  But everyone has a story.  I do love that Merril cares about others as well.  She was a nurse, and in my experience, there are nurses and nurses.  Some do not seem to care.  Nursing is just a job and foreign to their nature.  Merril is not like that.  She cares.   
I will never forget her telling me about a lady she looked after that no one would give the time of day.  It turned out this lady had been a journalist and interviewed Gandhi.  That was only something that caring would reveal.
Love to me is, and always will be, a doing word.  I know I have a way to go, but life is a learning curve.