
There’s a kind of love that feels nice…
and there’s a kind of love that saves lives.
They are not always the same thing.
Nice smiles and nods. Tolerance. Not wanting to rock the boat.
or
Love that risks the hard conversation—uncomfortable but knowing the peace might need to break so a person can be saved.
Daniel 4 shows us the difference.
It’s the story of a king at the top of the world—Nebuchadnezzar II—a man who had everything a human heart could crave. Power. Glory. Architecture. He was literally on top of the world.
He built the most magnificent capital the world had ever seen. Babylon wasn’t just a city; it was a flex.(a new word for me 🙂 Walls wide enough for chariots. Hanging gardens. Gold everywhere.
If “peace” could be bought, he had it. But it was the peace the world offers. And that kind of peace is fragile.
One little thing can rob you of it.
anesthesia
Scripture says he was “at ease… prospering.”
Then God disturbed him.
Not with comfort.
Not with applause.
But with a dream.
A tree.
Massive. Beautiful. Life-giving. Shelter for everyone.
Then a command from heaven:
Cut it down.
Leave only a stump.
Bind it with iron and bronze.
And let the man live like an animal for seven years.
Imagine waking up with that image stuck in your mind.
Then seeing it again while you’re awake.
A vision you can’t shake.
God was speaking.
Not gently.
But clearly.
Sometimes the most loving thing God can do is remove peace created by our pride.
Because peace built on pride isn’t peace—it’s anesthesia.
And God loves us too much to let us sleep through our own destruction.
Loving Courage
And then comes the part that wrecks me.
Daniel has to deliver the message.
Imagine telling the most powerful man on earth:
“You’re the tree.
You’re about to lose everything.
You’re going to lose your mind.
You’re going to live like an animal.”
That’s not an easy task.
What stands out isn’t just that Daniel speaks.
It’s how he speaks.
Scripture says he was troubled.
He hesitates.
He cares.
He basically says,
“I wish this were about your enemies instead of you.”
Daniel didn’t enjoy being right.
He wasn’t smug.
He wasn’t harsh.
He wasn’t “truth-bombing” the king.
He loved him.
And because he loved him…
He told him the truth anyway.
Truth Without Love Is Cruel
Love Without Truth Is Cowardly
Daniel shows us how to speak truth when the message isn’t easy.
Care deeply.
Speak clearly.
Do both at the same time.
Because real love doesn’t stay silent.
If your friend is walking toward a cliff, you don’t say,
“Hey, do what feels right.”
You shout.
You grab.
You interrupt.
Not because you’re mean.
Because you care.
A Gentle Challenge
Who in your life needs truth right now?
Not a lecture.
Not a hammer.
But truth wrapped in compassion.
Are you willing to love someone enough to risk the awkward, the heavy, the uncomfortable… so that they might find God on the other side?
Because caring isn’t always soft.
Sometimes caring sounds like:
“I love you too much not to tell you this.”
And sometimes…
that’s the very thing God uses to bring someone back to life.