Asking for Love.

A friend once asked me if God’s love was enough to truly satisfy my heart.  I’ve had to think about that a lot…is His love enough to satisfy me?


I finally came to this conclusion: I'm not sure if it is enough to satisfy me here on earth.  I fear that I will continue to fail to realize what His love truly means for my life, because I can’t seem to grasp how wide, how high, how long, how deep is the love of Christ.  Ah...but there are those moments where it clicks.  Those moments where I get it and it's all I know I need and I recognize how foolish I am to want anything more...but right now, they're only just moments...  

January 13, 2005  

today God told me that He loves me. And I finally get it. I finally get it.  It was what I was missing this whole time. A simple concept, but the biggest and hardest and most undeserving thing to attempt to grasp. I watched as my Savior got on His knees and took my foot in His hands.  I looked down into His eyes...and everything else fell into place as i wept and He began to wash my dirty feet. have you ever heard God tell you that He loves you...? Last night I told Him i was ready for what was next.  He provided...showing me His love in an entirely new, beautiful way that I've never before experienced. 

This was a few years ago…and this was part of an email I wrote to a dear       friend. These moments feel few and far between these days.  I imagine they   are few because of my lack of asking God to rain down His love on me.   

This particular moment in my life I will never forget.  It was one of the most    vivid and out of body experiences with Christ that I can recall…and it             happened in the most random of places—the bathtub. 

I have this ridiculous affinity for baths.  In college, sharing a bathroom with      three other girls wasn’t exactly conducive to fulfilling this desire…not to        mention the mildew and soapscum that was eternally glued around the base of the tub.  I took every chance I could to take baths when I went home for     the holidays.  This particular Christmas break proved to hold a more special purpose for bathing than just cleanliness and relaxation.  

For whatever reason, I began to imagine what my life would look like if one of my parents died suddenly.  The thought was excruciating…and I began          weeping.  These thoughts were no just longer thoughts, but the emotion was as though it had actually happened. I realized the tragedy of life without them;the fear of growing up, becoming independent, starting my own family,           getting my first job.  The thought of not having home to come back to; a       place of love, support, encouragement, wisdom…my parents--that thought    broke me.  

Soon these thoughts took a bit of a different twist.  I was now the victim of an untimely death and I was knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how my sudden death would wound my parents.  I imagined their life without me, and that broke me even more still.  Not because I’m special, not because I’m a good kid…simply because I knew how much they loved me, and how much it would kill them to lose me.  Even though they have other children, I knew it would devastate them to lose just one of us. 

It was at that moment that I felt like God was telling me that He loved me…that He loves me with a greater intensity, a greater tenderness and gentleness than my parents could possibly muster up.   He loves me, despite my faults, despite my past, despite my weaknesses, my insecurities, my shame, my sin, my selfishness.  I felt as though He was whispering 'Debbie, see how much they love you? It’s like this, only better…way better.'

He didn’t stop there.  I was suddenly watching myself seated before Jesus Christ—and as I plunged on my face at His feet, realizing my absolute unworthiness in His presence, He tenderly knelt beside me, and helped me to my feet.  He seated me in the chair, and as I became aware of His next actions, I began to weep uncontrollably at the thought of what this really meant.  My Savior knelt down at my feet and began to wash them.  He looked up into my eyes…and I looked down into His.  I looked down into Jesus’ eyes. 

In the bathtub I grew up taking baths in, my Savior told me of His love for me…and then He acted on it.  It was one of the most real and vivid things I can ever remember…and maybe the strangest.

But that was just a moment.  One moment…and while it made perfect sense  in that moment, and while that moment reminds me often of His love…I don’t feel His love for me like that most days.  I don’t feel this intense emotional    connection to the God of the universe.  

I think that's okay. I don't think that makes me a failure. I don't think that      means I'm doing something wrong. I kind of just think that's how it is. But, I    think the moments are important. I think they bring Scripture to life for us. 

Ask Him to give you a moment... a moment where, even if it's just a second, you undoubtedly believe His love for you. A moment where you just know      that that's all that matters. A moment where sins are forgiven, slates are       wiped clean and you can walk freely. Trust that it'll happen... in His timing and His way. Don't try to fabricate it. 

And in the time in between the moments? Keep walking faithfully with what He has told you, what He has given you, what He has called you to. Be faithful   even when He doesn't feel 'near' or when you don't feel satisfied. His             presence isn't dictated by our emotions... 

Thank God. 

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