Quiet Love

It creeps up so silently…catching me off guard every time.

I am overtaken.

I stop surrendered in mid-stride.

I turn around slowly to confront my conqueror.

I find only the sun as it ascends over the treetops, or a tiny flower posing near my feet, or my niece smiling up at me, or the twinkling of the first star, or the tune of my sister´s whistle, or the wind touching my brow, or the echo of a Psalm written centuries ago.

It is then I remember that the truest Love is the quietest kind that does not demand attention or require noisy evidences. It is, in fact, easily passed by…often ignored and misunderstood.

It surrounds us. Yet we walk on without a nod towards the invisible.

For some reason (pure grace most likely), I am occasionally awoken by a subtle tap on my heart. The Love of my God steals over me; I cannot resist it. I fall captive to His quiet Love. 

I don´t believe you

It was a sinking and momentarily devastating feeling. No one had ever told me that they seriously doubted my sincerity. Two things made the admission worse—the fact that it came from a friend and the fact that their disbelief concerned an experience that was extremely beautiful to my heart.

I listened...too crushed to say much. I did my best to understand. Tears surfaced. (To think, I had evoked mistrust and doubt in a friend´s mind by how I had lived or spoken or acted.) I immediately wanted to identify where I had gone wrong. Was I truly as insincere as I had been perceived? Were my words perhaps not trustworthy at all? I thanked my friend for their honesty. Our friendship grew after that conversation, but I cannot completely forget the feeling it gave me—to not be trusted, to not be believed. 

Over the months a growing realization is that it is me who, after years of “belief in God,” has never TRULY believed half of what God has spoken and done in Love towards me. Unlike me, God´s heart is infinitely sincere. I prance around His miracles and enjoy the light of His pursuing Love while holding on to partial, superficial belief in Him. With a lifetime of outward belief on my résumé (church goer, scripture memorizer, hymn singer, etc.), where is the absolute belief that would seep into my every day and tinge my every conscious thought? Where is the radical faith that would make my eyes glow with peace and Love beyond measure? Having whispered the words “I love You” to God, can I make decisions that shout “But I only half-believe most of what You say?” Can I doubt the sincerity of One who wordlessly died to give me life?

We have believed in enough counterfeits, have we not? We try to prove ourselves or our ideas worthy of belief. We have believed in things…the power of prayer, the necessity of belief itself, our denominational doctrines, the Christian virtues. Our belief must become deeper and simpler. God seeks one who will simply believe in His Name. His Name is Love. Love cannot lie. Love keeps its promises. With our wavering hearts, we fall short of absolute belief in this life-changing Love. We doubt syllables, phrases, and entire sentences of His truth. Oh God, help thou our unbelief.

Waking Up

Sleepy eyes. Time to get up. Unmotivated.

I don´t want to think about the school and work assignments that await me.

The horizon is just beginning to turn light. My window frames a piece of the changing sky. In my drowsiness a wave of nostalgia hits me—I guess if I´m honest I actually must say a wave of sadness.

I miss Him. The clouds have still not rolled back as a scroll. His glory has not yet broken through the atmosphere, making everything right again. Another morning without seeing His face. It´s almost too much to bear at 5:50 a.m.    

I imagine the framed piece of the sky being a door to heaven. Maybe if I stare at it long enough. Maybe if I relentlessly look up it will swing open and I will see the joyous and tearful face of my God rushing to let me feel His arms for the first time.

But I am still on this side of the door…and He on the other. Could it be He is more anxious than I, with His scarred hand expectantly hovering near the door handle? Heart beating fast? Longing to end His millennia of loneliness…waiting to fling aside the separation and take away earth´s pain forever.

 

A lonely yet lovely tune reaches my ears. I´m not imagining it. The bird sings on and I know it is God´s chosen musician. Dawning realization is that, despite everything, this morning has been anointed by Love—my feeble love for Him and His aching Love for me.  All becomes bearable…because I have heard the Love song.