I am used to people walking away. I am used to people hurting me. I’ve built this wall around myself to pretend I’m tough. God comes along and loves me like I’m perfect and lovely. I can’t accept this love. I see how broken and messed up I am so I push away His love because I feel like I deserve punishment. He doesn’t punish me or yell at me. He simply loves me. For some reason, this is unacceptable to me. I need to be punished. Well if God won’t punish me, then I’ll have to do it myself. I keep Him at arms length because I’m afraid I’ll be hurt again. I can’t give away my whole heart because if it’s hurt, I won’t be able to pick myself back up. I have to keep at least one piece of it to myself safe so that nobody can hurt me. I need a foundation on which to bounce back into motion. I can’t do that if I have given everything away, yet God calls me to give Him everything. Whoa. Whoa.
I yell at God and say, “How could You love someone like me?”
I hear Him say, “What do you mean someone like you? I made you.”
I ask Him, “Why would You make me?”
I hear Him sigh, “Oh, beloved. I wish you could see yourself from My eyes.”
I tell Him, “Your eye sight is messed up. I’m not beautiful or perfect.”
He asks, “Then why did I die for you?”
I shake my head and tell Him, “It was a mistake. You wasted it on me. I hear that You would die for me even if I was the only one standing. But it’s not worth it. I’m too messed up, too broken, too far gone. You wasted Your death on me. You wasted your death. On me.”
He takes my hand and looks stern, “Don’t you ever say that about yourself. I don’t care how you feel about it. I saved you. I love you. You’re beautiful to me. I would die everyday for you.”
I shake my head again, “You’re making a mistake.”
He laughs, “I don’t make mistakes.”
I look incredulously at Him, “How could You say that? Everybody makes mistakes.”
“Well it’s a good thing I’m not everybody.”
I often forget how big God is because I lump Him with everybody. I feel my sadness in my head. I feel stress in my shoulders. I feel anger in my stomach. I feel completely broken and shattered in my heart. That’s also where I feel God the closest. He sits right next to my heartbreak and brings me healing.
I don’t understand. I see the stains on me yet God doesn’t. Why? I don’t understand this love. I can’t fathom this forgiveness. It makes no sense to my brain. I often tell God He’s doing it wrong, He made a mistake, I’m not worthy, You can’t love someone like me, You can’t –
Jesus doesn’t give a fuck how you feel. You’re saved anyway. You’re loved anyway. He would die for you anyway.
I think my world stopped when I heard my counselor say that phrase to me: Jesus doesn’t give a fuck how you feel about it. How silly I am for thinking the way I feel about my salvation is the way God feels about it. It doesn’t matter if I don’t understand it because I’ll never understand it. It’s too big for me to fathom. If I could understand everything God told me then I don’t think He’s a God worth following. He would be my size and that’s much too small for me to put my faith into.
My emotions can be a roller coaster. They can be up then down within a blink of an eye. God, however, is constant in His love for me. His forgiveness is never up and down. They are always constant. In this silly life of chaos, He is my calm and I’m so thankful He isn’t afraid of my stubbornness. He is my rock and I’m so thankful He isn’t afraid of my roller coaster. He is my love and I’m so thankful He isn’t afraid of my shaking fist.
He knows I would change, but some say I’m too stubborn to.