Over the past few months the Lord has been leading me through a sweet, sweet place of growth, self awareness and discovery, maturity, even recovery to a certain extent (or perhaps "overcome-ery" would be a better phraseology). He has blasted my concept of love and is teaching me an entirely new model of how I should love others and what my relationships should look like and how they should function.
I think inside every grown woman is a little girl yearning for her "Wesley" (thank you Princess Bride) to swoop in on a white horse and whisk her away into the sunset; so devout in his love and adoration of her that years of separation and a plethora of monsters, scheming pirates, cliffs and other sizable obstacles could not deter him from pursuing the hear of the woman he loves until he had claimed it as his own. The mere idea of someone desiring me to that great extent of risking death just to get to me makes my heart skip a beat, I'll admit. To be admired, cherished, important, adored, thrills my heart; to be loved.
A few weeks ago a lyric of a worship tune spoke to the very core of that little girl in me and succeeded in both breaking my hear and comforting it all at once. He is jealous for me? for Me? Really? The God of the Universe loves ME to the point of desiring my returned adoration in such a manner as to be jealous of anything else I apply my adoration to? I was overwhelmed with a flood of joy that my God, Savior and Redeemer is courting my heart in spite of my imperfections and insecurities. And then I was broken over the realization that the jealous part of His love meant that He desires me, in my entirety...my love, my time, my worship, my joy, my attentions and affection. What then is sin really than witholding that which He desires me to give Him? Each time I substitute something of this world for my Christ, I sin...which conjures a mind picture of an "angry" God. Suddenly, this picture was replaced by one of a heart-broken God. Of a husband whose wife has been unfaithful. Of a father whose only beloved daughter has shamed and disappointed her family by being promiscuous or dabbling in drugs or running away and turning her back on those who loved and raised her. Of God weeping because He wanted me and I wanted something else. He desires to romance my heart, to affirm me, to spend time with me, to hear my triumphs and my fears, to be my comfort, my all.
So no matter if a platoon of Wesleys climbed a thousand cliffs, outsmarted a troop of weasley little men with thinning hair, and dueled an army of six-fingered men, they could never compare to the one who has already sought my hear and sealed it as His forever. One man has already taken up that pursuit of my heart to the point of death on a cross, and I am literally reduced to tears. He loves me...oh how He loves me.
Posts
