Sometimes I remember that God shouted love when we were brought into existence when the egg connected with the sperm when the gestation period started when it continued, nutrients pumping in when he knew us, inside and out before we were born wrinkly and new before even one of our days, before a 24-hour-period came to be. Sometimes I remember this important thing. But sometimes I forget.
This brooding amnesia colors my outlook it destroys my confidence it causes me to seek escape through television or a perfectly made latte or an accomplishment or an accolade, a word of praise.
But at day's end my heart still smarts in the quiet before-sleep moments when I am still awake.
But then the sun comes up And I stare out the window from my living room And I grow pin-drop quiet, asking for a word from You. Oh, Father, the tears form in the corners of my eyes What do you think of when you think of me?
Silly how I approach you sheepishly hoping you will care enough to speak to lavish a bit of love on me. Within moments or minutes you impress on me a love that defies words; sometimes I begin to laugh your delight making me feel that I am held in your arms fastened winsomely under your gaze. Sometimes I cry when I realize how far you have gone to show me your love, to help me reimagine and realize my worth, to inhabit this place as the apple of your eye.
It all seems somewhat scandalous to receive this Belovedness to embrace that I am truly wanted beyond all failings, in spite of imperfections. But then I remember John the beloved disciple And Lazarus, the one whom you loved and wept over, and then I remember Jesus emerging from the water with your Belovedness, your pleasure spilling forth into desire and praise.
The real scandal would be living unloved when you are shouting Beloved when your love is right here waiting.
Sometimes I remember that God shouted love when we were brought into existence and sometimes I forget.
Then I remind myself that the ship of your love sailed before even one of my days came to be.
"How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you." -Psalm 139:17-18, NIV
What prevents you from living as God's Beloved? What reorients you to his love?
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