I’m sitting in my backyard, it’s nothing pretty to look at, but it’s home. My mom calls it a postage-stamp. I call it a blessing. Because when I look around, I am reminded as the sun reaches through the sky, shines through the leaves of the trees, and reflects off of the white picket fence, of God’s amazing providence in my life.
This last week, I have been reminded in every way imaginable of Jesus’ great love for me. It started gently by Rob’s sermon– these words remain, “What more could He have done?!” And as I type those words, I hear the passion and pride that comes in that strong Spirit-speaking voice…and what has my response been? Where is my passion? Where is my pride? And most importantly, how is His Spirit speaking through me?
How do I love Jesus? Well, I serve Him. I trust Him. I yearn for Him. I am convicted by Him, but more importantly, I am forgiven by Him. Conviction, what does that even mean?! It was ironic, maybe not ironic, probably more prophetic that in my quiet time leading up to Rob’s sermon I was meditating on 1 John 4:10, “Real love isn’t our love for God, but his love for us. God sent his Son to be the sacrifice by which our sins are forgiven.” This is my conviction: when I examine my “love” for Him, what have I sacrificed for Him. So the question, “What more could He have done?!” No! “What more can I do?!”
I’ve been the closest bit in love before. I have, and I miss it. I miss my heart beating out of my chest. I miss feeling finally free and able and ready to share my life. I miss being able to say I love you with passion and pride because I “know” that you are mine. What is that, though? It’s nothing more than a love that was taught and modeled to me by my Savior. HE is the Lover of my soul. The Maker of every intimate moment I’ve ever experienced. The Creator that rejoices my life. The Glory that touches the ground. The Whisper that deafens me. He is the Peace in my darkness. The One who sees past what I try to. The only one who is faithful to me.
