The Worth Of Knowing

I stand by the kitchen sink – stomach tight, jaw clenched. My hands are covered in soap as I shove a dirty fork into the dishwasher.

Why is it here doing a daily mundane job that I feel the weight of my messed up past and the weight of the ways I could mess up the future?They feel like two heavy chains around my wrists. As my hands move vigorously to scrub the dried food off a dish, I feel stuck.

All of a sudden, the picture of You embracing me and saying the unexpected words “I love you” crashes into my thoughts.

I’m unsteady. As if trying to catch my breath from being drenched in ice cold water, I rest my forearms on the edge of the sink, head bowed.

“God so loved the world” somehow seems more fathomable to me than “I love you.”

But by some grace of God I let myself feel loved.

And I begin to sob.

God, You wrapped Your arms around me and said “I love you” before my wrongs had been righted, before I allowed Your love in, before I was able to love You in return, and when I was still trying to stab You in the back.

This must be what it means when You tell me that You showed Your love for me while I was still weak, a sinner, and Your enemy by having Your perfectly lovely Son die in my place. (Romans 5:6-10)

A few moments later, when the tears stop I nervously think back to my previous heavy thoughts. The weight I now feel from them is negligible.

Or rather the weight of God’s love is far greater.

I don’t need to fear Your motives or question Your ability to love well.

When Your love comes in and gives me a new heart, I am safe. I am Your child not just in pretense, but in an eternally legal and deeply personal way. I am Your bride and You nourish and cherish me as You do Yourself.

My past and my future can’t weigh down Your love for me.

You will redeem it all. You will use it all to show Your love for me and in so doing glorify Yourself. You are not going to hold back on me. You are going to bring more wholeness, peace, and joy than I can imagine.

I dip my hands back into the soapy water and hold a bubble in my hand.

I want to grasp this memory so the feeling of security and safety won’t leave.

The bubble pops.

I trust that the image of Your love for me is more than a feeling that will fade. It’s evidenced in history and in Your Word. There’s real substance to it. I choose to believe this image is a glimpse of what will be my reality for eternity.