“I won’t run, when it looks like love,
I won’t hide behind the fear of how my past has come undone
I won’t run, when it looks like love,
I won’t spend another night alone, regretting what I’ve done.”
Looks Like Love-Needtobreathe
Right now, it’s nearly 2am here in Madison, I haven’t written a post in 3 months, and I’m raw and exhausted. We leave for a conference tomorrow at 7am, and we leave for outreach in exactly 10 (9!) days.
God is teaching me things here on this classroom floor at 2am.
This is the spot (not exactly, but pretty dang close) that has been my teaching grounds since January 10th. The girl that walked in this building didn’t have a clue what vulnerability looked like, inexperienced in risking myself on, well, anything.
Love involves risks. Lots of them. Sometimes its joyful. Sometimes it rebukes. Sometimes you don’t get all the answers you wanted.
It’s always Jesus.
I always took the verse about perfect love casting out fear as almost platitude, someone slapping a Band-Aid over bullet-wound, crippling anxiety.
Until I got a taste of that perfect love.
But God, what if I don’t know what next looks like?
But God, what if I never know why?
But God, I don’t see where you are in this…
I love you.
And right now, that’s enough. And it’s safe. My heart is safe in the questions. In the “I just don’t knows”. Does it still hurt sometimes? Oh my goodness, yes.
Still love you.
Now, if it’s a platitude, it’s straight from the mouth of Jesus. And that brings it to life (so it’s a no to that whole platitude thing). A current favorite around here is called Pieces, whether it’s in the shower or doing chores, I always seem to hear it 16 times a day. It’s alright. God knows I need it right now.
It’s never disengaged
It’s always present
It hangs on every word we say
Love keeps its promises
It keep its word
It honors what’s sacred
‘Cause its vows are good
That’s the perfect love that I can trust. When I am in deep pain. When I am so full of joy, I can’t keep it in. Even if none of the problems ever get solved, even if I never know why. Even in goodbye.
Still love you.
I engage. So I love full and big and wide. So I ask for God’s heart even when it feels like too much to carry. I am never alone, and I am never unsafe, and I am so, so weak, and so, so strong. It’s all an enigma I haven’t figured out how to carry yet.
But I’m learning. And He asks, are you hands still open?
Yeah, God. Yeah, they are.