Sometimes, I have an abundance of thoughts. Sometimes, I am shutdown. Sometimes, I have an abundance of words. Sometimes, I am at a loss. Sometimes, I am at peace. Sometimes, I am anxious. Sometimes…sometimes…
Regardless of my current state of being, one of my consistent themes is trying to understand the reality that I exist in. Truth matters to me, and it is a difficult journey, filled with detours, dead ends, and moments of wanting to just give up the fight. Yet, it takes just seeing a little breadcrumb laying on the ground wondering if there is another just a bit further along the path to keep me crawling, or walking, or running in the right direction. Maybe I should rephrase that to say “in the perceived right direction”?
Recently, I wrote a poem (at least I think that is what you call it) that I named Interchangeable. The first two lines were bouncing in my head and the remaining lines spilled out in 12 minutes and it was complete. More frequently the process of getting my thoughts out takes days, months, and even potentially years. Still, those breadcrumbs of thought linger and have to marinate for a while to make sense of them.
In the images above, these questions were part of my Journey experience in October. These questions have sat on the same two note cards for over four months now. These questions start with a root question. “Do you really love me?” Mere mortals cannot answer this to the degree that I need. While I believe God has made it clear that “For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son…” it is a case of “Lord, I believe…help my unbelief.” I believe I am part of world that He loves, so at a bare minimum I am “loved.” However, I often view this love as a matter of ONLY cancelling out the negative. Jesus didn’t die because we are all righteous. He died because we are not. So, his death brings “love” to those have sinned.
Yes, this is truly good news. However, when I cannot believe that His love for me is more than a very generic/general love for the world, I can tend to see only a love that covers up a very disappointed and disapproving face with a phrase. How does an infinite being love me, specifically me in a unique way, and find delight in me? Is that even a possibility?
The question of “do you love me?” has shown up in the mortal realm frequently. It can ignore 100 evidences of being loved deeply, and fixate on the one thing that tells me, “see, you might not.” In terms of evidence, it is obviously a losing battle. In terms of functioning as a person who believe they are deeply and uniquely loved, it is torture…because that question can never be answered at the depth that is needed. A disapproving look or disappointed face screams louder than an “I love you.”
Does God, the eternal, immortal, invisibile, omnipotent, omniscient Creator uniquely love and delight in me? I always (almost always) feel my body cringe when the word delight is mentioned. Does God delight in me?
I have had moments and seasons where I think he does, or at minimum might (read any writing about how I saw the birth of my first-born’s impact on my view of God’s love).
If I look at my questions above, the breadcrumbs would tell me that maybe, just maybe, that the desires of my heart would be to:
- Know/feel/experience the depth of God’s love for me
- Know that He has tears for my tears and not an aloof, detached response
- Feel the freedom to ask Him to allow me to feel His delight in me
- Guide me to consistently and continuously care for “BabyCabs”
The breadcrumbs tell me there is a path to continue to tread forward on, and these same breadcrumbs remind me that it is foolish to forget these desires/hopes exist. It also reminds me that I don’t want to settle for mere breadcrumbs from God. These crumbs can lead to Him, but they shouldn’t be the end of the pursuit of a far deeper satisfaction that crumbs provide. There is a banquet table of a feast that lies ahead.
