Unrequitedly and unconditionally. Incredibly and incomprehensibly. His love is beyond compare. He is worthy of love, but does not receive it. Instead of loving Him, I’ve mocked Him, I’ve scorned Him, I’ve sometimes hated Him. But that does not deter Him from loving me. I was in danger of death, and He stepped in the way of the sword meant for my neck. His bruises came from my fists, his pain from my angry words. Yet He gave His life to save mine. That’s love.
He loves me.
That fluttery feeling in my stomach isn’t love. The sense of closeness I feel with a friend isn’t love. Saying, “I love you,” isn’t even love. Dying to save the very ones who murder you… that’s love. God is love. His love is indescribable. And I am so undeserving.
He loves me.
I don’t have to wish on shooting stars or pick petals off flowers or wait around for 11:11 to be loved by Him. Before time, when only He was, He already loved me. The least I can do is give my life to Him. He’s already given his for me…
He loved, loves, and forever will love me. His love is divine. Beautiful. Perfect. No human love compares.
I am loved by the Creator, the Comforter, the Savior.
The least I can do is love Him back.
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