When I was sixteen, before I committed my life to Jesus, I used to drink a lot of alcohol. On one occasion after returning from a particularly massive session, where I had consumed fifteen pints of beer, I made a very strange decision.
Right, now here’s a tricky question for you. Could you love a murderer?
I have a philosophy: ‘To be known, is to be loved’. To know one is to love one and you can only love as much as you know. Recently I found myself musing as to whether there were exceptions to my rule. Could there be people who are unloveable, no matter how well you know them?
