to the One I love the most


I love you. I love that you love me no matter what I’m going through or struggling with. I love that you were misunderstood and that your radical words and way of life and love were different than the religious interactions, rules, and experiences the people were accustomed to.

I love that you knew WHO you were even when you were despised and rejected and people talked amongst themselves about how you should be someone else entirely. I love the way you spoke to the woman at the well, the way you saw beyond the crook Zaccheus was and LOVED him deeply and let others know, publicly, that Zaccheus was loved, valued, and worth your time.

I love the way you communed with your Father.

I love the way you didn’t see people as issues but instead saw them as wounded souls in need of fountains of grace and torrents of healing love.

I love how you didn’t just give people a temporary fix to physical ailments but you actually reached far beyond their blindness, deafness, and sickness in order to mend the brokenness in their spirits – to resurrect the death of their souls. I love how you rescued people not only from physical disease, but also from the anguish of social alienation. I love how you came not just to feed the 5,000 but to demonstrate that you care for our every need – see our every ache, groaning, and longing – and notice our deep need for a Provider and Rescuer.

I love the simplicity of your conversations, the depth of your compassion, the boldness of your confrontations with religious Pharisees.

I love the miracle of your birth – how you trusted your created beings to care for you in your helpless, infantile state.

I love your humility – how you didn’t always try to defend yourself from attacks on your character and true self and I love your determination to protect those you love – how you didn’t shy away from confronting injustice – against the children, the adulteress, the leper, the Samaritan woman. I love how you revealed yourself to those who truly hungered for you. I love how you pursued those who were running from themselves and hiding behind authority, influence, and power but really just wanted to be sought.

I love how you questioned the commitment of the rich young ruler, stepped in between the adulteress woman and her violent accusers, and I love how you let the outcast woman anoint your feet with her tears and hair and kisses. Because it was pure worship from her heart. I love how you don’t see us as the same but instead, connect with us intimately because you know each of us deeply and are well-acquainted with our most crippling fears, our most daring dreams, and our darkest, most well-kept secrets.

I love how you retreated from the crowds to spend time with the men in your inner circle. And I love how you had an intimate and different relationship with each of them. I love your wild at heart approach to your vagabond life. I love that the people you recruited to be your ambassadors don’t fit the profile the world thinks they should. I love that you introduced a new definition of greatness to mankind. That in spite of your unassuming nature, you walked and talked with authority.

I love that you believed in those you created and called to follow you. I love that you don’t prevent our mistakes – that you let us mess up and let us realize the gravity of our mistakes and grieve them and then find freedom in your love and grace in your eyes. I love that you want us to be carefree and childlike – I love that you can be trusted to meet our needs and care for our souls.

I love that you can’t be explained, confined, or fully interpreted. I love that you are mysterious. I love that you are here and now. I love that you speak to all of us – each of us – in different ways – in ways that penetrate the walls we’ve built and flood into our empty places. I love that you are the God of seeing.

I love that you say I’m fearfully and wonderfully made and I love that you sacrificed much for me – and that I can’t repay the debt I owe – because grace is such a weighty gift to bestow. I love that when the Father looks at me, he sees you. And I love that you meet me in the mess and want to know me even when I don’t feel worthy of being known. I love that you bless me not because of what I do or don’t do but because of who you are.

I love that you have an awesome sense of humor and know how to make me laugh. 

I love that you are LOVE. Feed and nourish my soul, precious Jesus.

Because you are exactly who I need.