Jesus loves me, this I know...
I'm contemplating love this morning.
I'm contemplating love this morning because my six-year-old decided to give me a gift as a thank you for helping him build his Legos.
He loves to give me gifts.
Sometimes he goes outside and picks flowers for me from our garden or finds a cool-looking rock or feather. Sometimes he draws me a picture or writes a sweet note.
And sometimes, when he has nothing else to give me, he goes foraging in his room and gets creative. I never know what he's going to come up with when he's on that type of a mission.
It might be an old craft from school that he had saved. Or a photograph that I had pinned to his bulletin board.
This morning, it was a Kleenex box.
I held it and looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
"What?" he asked. "You're always blowing your nose, you know."
He's not wrong. It's allergy season, after all.
It made me smile.
And it made me think about love.
The Bible says rather clearly that God loves us. That God is loving. And it goes even further to say that God is LOVE (1 Jn 4:16).
What does that mean?
Some interpret God's love to mean He will give us everything we want. Only good things and showers of blessings.
I don't think that's true. I know that's not true. My life has had plenty of not good things.
As a parent, I don't give my children everything they want, even though I love them. Why do we expect God to??
So, then, what is God's love like?
Is God's love like a Father to a child? The Bible does use this language.
Or is God's love like a lover to a beloved? The Bible uses this language, too.
Or is God's love like a six-year-old boy, giving gifts to his mother?
How does God love us?
Many of us have experienced love that hurts. Love that harms. Love that is abusive and manipulative and selfish. It may be even harder for us to imagine God's love. To accept it. To receive it. To return it.
Because we don't know what real love feels like.
The Old Testament uses the Hebrew word "chesed" to describe God's love for us. It's used over 190 times. Though there is no direct translation in English, it basically means "loving-kindness". It's an enduring, active love. A love that chases, that is merciful, that is unfailing. This is God's chesed for us.
In Micah 6:8, where God tells us to seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly, the "love mercy" includes the word, "chesed". God calls us to love others the same way He loves us.
Just like Jesus said (in Matthew 22:34-36). Love God and love others. Simple.
Except, it's not so simple, is it?
1 Corinthians 13 is the so-called "love chapter" of the Bible. It reads:
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
Therefore, if God is love, then:
God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, does not boast, is not proud. God does not dishonor others, He is not self-seeking, He is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. God always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. God never fails.
Have we ever known a love such as this?
I have not. I have repeatedly been let down by people who "love" me. I've been hurt, betrayed, left behind. I've been unseen and unheard.
I often feel unlovable. Unworthy of love. Not good enough.
Sometimes when I hear that God loves me, even in a simple children's song, it's hard to swallow. It's hard to take in.
When the Church turned her back on me, I think a part of me projected that rejection onto God. I was angry. Hurt and angry. Here I was, doing everything I thought I was supposed to be doing as a dutiful Christian, following God's lead, and the Church turned me out. I think a part of me felt as though God Himself had turned me out.
I felt abandoned.
Orphaned.
Alone.
It took me a couple of years to realize that God hadn't abandoned me. He hasn't abandoned me. He is always here. Always present, always loving, always faithful.
How else would I know in my gut that the love I have received from others is wrong? That real love doesn't bring you harm, but lifts you up? That real love isn't abusive or manipulative or selfish? How else would I know that, unless there was some standard I could hold this failed love up to? A standard that tells me the way love is supposed to be?
Only if God is love, only if God loves me, do I have anything to compare worldly love to and find it lacking.
If God is here, Emmanuel, God with me, then it is I who walked away from Him. If I want to know more of His love, I must only ask for it. Pray for it. Seek it. Seek Him.
For only when I truly know God's chesed, will I be able to share that level of chesed with others.
And will I be able to chesed Him.
My six-year-old has the most awesome prayers. He often will prayer, "God, I love you so so so so so much. I even love you more than I love Mama."
One day, he asked me, "Mama, how much do you love God?"
I was speechless. I wanted to give the good Christian answer of my dutiful devotion, but the words stuck in my throat.
Do I love God?
Do I love God with my whole heart and soul and strength? (Deuteronomy 6:5)
Do I?
My little boy is easy to love, because he loves so largely.
God's love is even greater than a six-year-old's love for his mama.
God is easy to love, because He loves so largely.
His love is chesed: loving-kindness, merciful, bountiful, beautiful.
Maybe in accepting God's love, in leaning into it, we are filled with a love that overflows. That overflows until we love ourselves, until we love Him, until we love others.
My prayer today, for me and for you, dear reader, is that we grow in experiencing God's love. May His chesed fill our souls until it overflows...
Add comment
Comments