When you fall in love with Jesus, all you want is to keep falling. You don't want to slow down. You long for it, thirst for it, need it. His love is always present, never-failing, perfect, and pure. There are no butterflies in your stomach; just a light in your heart. When you're in love - really in love - nothing else matters. When you're in love, you can truly cry out, "My soul magnifies the Lord!" (Luke 1:46).
Except sometimes, you're not in love. You love Jesus, deep down, no matter what, but you're not in love with Him. You care, but you're not seeing stars. You thank Him and praise Him, but your words are motivated by guilt or obligation rather than love.
I bounce back between these two poles so often that it drives me crazy. All I want is to be so completely in love with Jesus that I could be perfectly joyful and content with doing nothing but running around and shouting his name to the heavens. I want to be so in love that every single action I take is motivated by His love for me and mine for Him. I want to be so overpowered by His love that I cannot speak, think, or act without doing so in love. Yet, I don't. I fall out of love, like a fickle teenager with a crush. As often as I find myself in this state and wish that I were crazy in love, I also have moments where I don't want that love. It's too much. It's too overwhelming, and I'm too imperfect. And I want the world. The very thing that I am told not to want is my greatest desire, and the Almighty God somehow just gets leftovers.
It happens all the time, but lately, both extremes have been amplified. Yesterday, I felt so in love with God. All I wanted to do was spend time with Him, sing to Him, speak to Him, be in complete awe of Him. But then my love for the world took over. I went to rehearsal and, as per usual these past few weeks, saw the guy I've developed feelings for, and all thoughts of God left my mind. I began wondering whether my makeup was alright, or thinking (with guilty paranoia) that said guy might actually be into my best friend, or berating myself for being unable to win his affection. Only hours later did I realize that I'd left Jesus at the door of the building when I went inside to rehearse.
I've been so wrapped up in the (recently learned) knowledge that the guy I like doesn't feel the same way about me that I've been forgetting about Jesus. Jesus, the Creator, Lover of My Soul, who loves me unconditionally in a way that I cannot begin to describe. Jesus, who loves every single person who was, is, and shall be, knowing full well that such people most likely will not love Him in return. Jesus, who is so in love with me that He let the Father pour out all of His wrath against humanity into His own weak human body. Jesus, who died for me. Jesus, who allowed himself to be abandoned by God for me. This is the Love that Will Not Let Me Go. The farther I run, the farther He follows, beckoning me back into His arms.
I know that I will continue to struggle with this every minute of every day for the rest of my life. He knows it, too, and accepts my repentance for my failings. His love is no less.
And that is why I am able to wake up and not simply face the day, but delight in it.
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