For the Love of Love

Today, on Christmas Eve, I sat in church and I felt the emotion of the Christmas story in a deeper way than I ever have before. Every song gave me chills, the scripture made me teary. I was overwhelmed.

For here is a true fact:

I love love. 

Maybe it is because I now know that true love is such a rare and amazing thing, but any time I see or experience real love I feel the greatest joy. I love seeing my friends happy in their marriages or engagements, I love seeing families having fun together, I love how my grandparents care for one another. I absolutely rejoice when I see acts of love. It gives me life to see other people's joy.

My therapist recently explained God's love in a way I hadn't imagined before, with an imagery that spoke to me:

The short version of the Genesis story is that once there was the garden and everything was perfect, but we chose sin and had to leave.

In that moment, God could have said, "Good luck out there, in the imperfect, difficult, sad, and sinful world. One day I will let you return to the garden, to perfection, to being with me."

But He didn't.

Instead, God left the garden and He came into the darkness with us. He left the perfect, sinless, place to enter into the darkness at our side.

This act of great love brought me to tears as I considered the Christmas story tonight. I love that God sent His son, fully God, to walk with us. And I love that He didn't send His son in a cushy, easy way. He sent Jesus as a child, in a manner that is equivalent of having a baby in a taxi and then having to sleep in a tent. He sent Him in a manner that made Him just like us. He had to enter the sadness and the pain and the suffering, just like us.

He decided to walk with us. 

 This whole past year God has walked through the mess with me. He has never abandoned me.

 And that truth, as I lit the candle for the candlelight service at church, made me cry. Because He loved us in the most overwhelming and beautiful way.

And that changes everything. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coming to Terms

 “How are you doing with that aspect of things?” my friends ask cautiously and kindly. I’m quiet for a minute as my mind flashes back to that small, tiny, windowless room where I sat on the paper stretched across a chair, perched above everyone else. “I heard that you were about to start trying for a second baby.” The doctor says matter-of-factly. “Yes.” I reply quietly. “We were supposed to start trying this week.” “That’s probably not a good idea now.” “Yes,” my voice breaks. “I know that. We’ve come to terms with that.” “It wouldn’t be wise to go off medication again, not with a recurrence this soon since your initial diagnosis.” I nod. Unable to form the words. They come out between tears. “Yes, I know we won’t be having any more children.” Sure, we have “come to terms with it” in a sense, yes, but how can one ever prepare for this reality? For the news of cancer but also the news that you will never again carry a baby in your womb? That just as you had prepared...
Read more

Cancer 2.0

Image
Today it rained. If you have been following my story for the past 6+ years, you know that this means something to me. Often, I feel the love and presence of God in the rain. I don’t know why. I think it started almost 6 years ago to the day when I wrote a post about the rain. Today, I am writing a similar post. 6 years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and on July 6 th , 2018, it was removed with a mastectomy, followed by chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and medication. Instead of celebrating my 6-year cancer free anniversary this week, I am scheduling appointments with a new team of doctors in Tennessee because, yet again, I have cancer. I know. We are all mad about it. Here are the practical details: It is on the same side, even though I had a mastectomy. It is teensy-tiny. It is just .4 cm, with my last tumor being 1.6 cm.  Here are the emotional details: We are sad. This puts a wrench in our plans to grow our family. This puts a wrench in our plans to go to l...
Read more

The Potency of Kindness

 Is kindness as potent as medicine? I'm starting to think so.  Last week I really wanted to give up. It all felt so hard and so disheartening. It was a perfect storm of a difficult chemo cycle (including Emma growing molars!) and I really didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other anymore.  And then my people showed up. On Instagram and Facebook you all told me to stay strong and keep going. In my texts and on written prayers dropped off at my house, you all told me that God was with me and that I could do this. You all believed in me. You believed that I was indeed mighty, and you prayed for me.  As I read each and every word of encouragement, I felt my body shore up a bit. My strength reserves started to feel a little more full, and resolve crept back into my bones.  Simple words were my medicine. (Along with a bunch of actual medicine, of course.) With these simple words, like being told I was prayed for by someone who doesn't even believe in praye...
Read more